Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

“I tried to resist, to peel away this ‘divinity’ imposed on me. But every struggle only made the gears mesh more tightly. I realized that only by understanding the rules of this world could I find a way out.”

She raised her hand, and the metal particles at her fingertips reassembled, this time forming a star map.

"You see, even the trajectory of the stars is different from my memory." Her tone carried the calmness unique to mechanical life, yet it revealed an undisguised sorrow.

"I once thought I had traveled through time, but later I discovered... this place is more like a world reconstructed by some force. The laws of physics still exist, but they are mixed with 'mysteries' that shouldn't exist in the first place. For example—"

With a gentle snap of the fingers, the teacups placed in front of the two suddenly levitated, and the tea condensed into a string of shimmering beads as it defied gravity.

“This is the power of ‘creation,’ which essentially violates the second law of thermodynamics.” Adeline loosened her fingers, and the tea beads fell back into the cup with a splash. “What’s even more paradoxical is that this ‘violation’ can actually be described by mathematical formulas, as if someone deliberately patched up the laws of nature.”

"Therefore, you established the Church of Steam Supremacy."

"Yes. It's just a return to the beginning of the quest, and I'm here to offer a helping hand."

It was a genuine smile, stiff, yet sincere enough.

"Since we can't escape it, we might as well guide it. If this world is destined to be shrouded in 'mystery' and 'extraordinary', then at least let them operate in a more rational way."

Her finger traced an arc in the air, and steam condensed into a miniature city model—towering chimneys spewing clouds of steam, electrically powered trains weaving between buildings, and workers operating sophisticated instruments rather than relying on potions or spells.

"Do you see? This is what civilization should look like—not relying on the blessings of the gods, but building the future with our own hands."

"A grand blueprint."

Charlotte closed her fingers and gave a well-deserved round of applause, not only for the former but also for herself.

This conversation, which flowed between her lips, was a priceless treasure. She glimpsed fragments of the truth from her previous ignorance—perhaps she was not a butterfly from another world, but a sleepy person who had been dormant for thousands of years and was only now blinking.

This extraordinary world is not a product of natural evolution, but a playground meticulously designed by some higher force from beyond the veil.

No longer keeping silent, she asked, "So, Ms. Adeline, you've shared this invaluable knowledge with me—"

"It's because you also carry an aura of 'contradiction' about you."

Adeline raised her arm, and steam seeped from the metal's slits, condensing in the air into a series of constantly fluctuating numbers.

“Your strain cultivation record shows that it took only seventy-two hours from the experiment to the completion of the output, while according to my calculations—” the numbers kept flashing, “with the current laboratory conditions in Florence, it would take at least two hundred and ten standard working days to complete this research.”

"Your resume over the past twenty years speaks volumes about your selfless dedication to the world and the fight against disease. This is truly remarkable, yet it is not contradictory. What is perplexing is your actions after arriving in Florence."

"If we consider the extraordinary and mysterious as the underlying logic, then your appearance and the birth of that strain are, on the contrary, a variable that extends into the material world. This is too obvious, too ostentatious, so please allow me to playfully call it—."

"Reverse."

Silence spread amidst the aroma of tea until the rhythmic venting of steam from the steam valves outside the church sounded like some kind of subtle timekeeping.

After a long while, Charlotte looked up at the dome, seemingly sharing the same helplessness.

"Reason tells me I shouldn't interfere. But some choices... have nothing to do with reason. I can't stand by and watch innocent people suffer, even if they have nothing to do with me."

Upon hearing this, Adeline also paused for a few seconds, then released the beauty's hand, letting out a steamy sound that resembled a sigh.

"You know what? In the ancient data archives, the human trait that puzzles me the most is this illogical ability to empathize."

A gentle curve appeared on her mechanical face.

"But I don't dislike this virtue. Whether biological or machine, human or extraordinary, most tangible things always aspire to a better life. This primal passion is what is called 'progress'."

"We share a common direction, and we can also be allies who work together."

The church gears began to turn again, and sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting dappled patterns of bronze and iron gray between the two, as if time had stood still at that moment.

When Charlotte opened her eyes again, she found herself standing at the church door, holding the copper bell she had just used to ring the door.

"...Ms. Isabella?" Old man Howard looked at her with some confusion.

"Why are you still here? The archbishop has been waiting for a long time."

Doubts lingered in her ears, but the brown-haired beauty clearly remembered the scene—she had witnessed the divine.

Chapter 177 Inconsistency and Subduing the Goddess

"Sorry, I seem to have... drifted off." Her thoughts momentarily cleared, she handed the item back to Howard, her voice as soft as a whisper.

The old man's wrinkled face was filled with confusion, but his good upbringing still made him choose to remain silent. When Charlotte crossed the threshold for the second time, she sensed a difference of a few seconds between the trajectory of the door hinges and her memory—like two similar pieces of film being roughly spliced ​​together.

The light spots cast by the stained glass gears drifted across the ground, never forming those intricate molecular models again. The suspended anatomical atlas remained silent as ever, and the gear at the third thoracic vertebra was perfectly aligned, showing no signs of disassembly.

"She is waiting for you in the prayer room."

Howard's voice faded into the distance. Charlotte watched as her shadow split into three projections at different angles on the brass floor, one of which was making a gesture of conversation towards the void.

She instinctively pressed her temples, and a dizzying sensation that transcended the physical realm swept over her.

As you walk through the corridor made of steam valves, the copper pipes in the walls suddenly emit a whistling sound, the tone exactly matching Adeline's description of a 'world-changing sound'.

Charlotte turned her head slightly, only to find that Howard did not react at all—as if the sound only existed in her perception.

The suspended platform still hovered high in the center of the gear set, but the figure sitting on it was different. Even though the face was similar and the temperament was gentle, the body under the scholar's white coat had no gear joints or metal particles; it was indeed a flesh-and-blood body.

“Ms. Isabella, you seem a little distracted.” The beautiful woman’s voice was calm, lacking the metallic resonance and the unique logic of a machine. “Is it from the journey?”

"Perhaps it's because I've been too overworked lately developing formulations."

It was just a casual excuse.

“Your efforts in combating the plague are admirable.” The archbishop gestured for her to sit down; the steam patterns on the bone china chair were exactly as he remembered. “The Church hopes to expand the cultivation of the strain in order to quell this plague as soon as possible…”

The conversation gradually faded into the muffled background noise.

Charlotte watched the archbishop's Adam's apple rise and fall with each word, the veins beneath his skin clearly visible. A firm conviction formed in her mind—the person she was currently speaking to was fundamentally different from the mechanical lifeform she had just encountered.

"Regardless of the final choice, your research on the strain is amazing."

The opposing chairs no longer have their copper pipes automatically brewing tea; instead, faceless servants wait quietly by their side.

"Especially under such rudimentary conditions."

The conversation began exactly as she remembered, but the context was completely different—last time, Adeline questioned her origins by pointing out the 'contradiction,' but this time, the other party seemed to be simply praising her talent.

"You flatter me." Upon hearing this, she responded cautiously, "Science is essentially a combination of accumulation and inspiration."

“Accumulation…” Adeline repeated softly, her eyes momentarily unfocused, as if the word had touched a nerve. But the next moment, her smile returned to normal. “Indeed. However, I’m curious, how did you manage to achieve sterile culture in your laboratory in Florence? As far as I know, the equipment there can’t even precisely control humidity.”

Charlotte's fingertips gently traced the rim of the teacup, the hem of her clothes rustling softly against the utensils.

“Luck.” So she simply smiled, “and some…bold speculation.”

"These two words don't sound like a rigorous answer in the scientific field."

Last time, Adeline directly pointed out the irrationality of 'completing the experiment in 72 hours,' but this time, she inquired about the details of the experiment indirectly.

But the aroma of tea still lingered, and when the archbishop picked up his teacup again, Charlotte called out the name of the mechanical life form.

"Is Adeline alright?"

The porcelain cup trembled slightly in her hand, and a few drops of amber tea splashed onto her white coat, creating tiny water droplets. Her eyes suddenly became unusually clear, as if she had broken free from some invisible constraint for a moment.

"How do you remember this name?" Her voice suddenly lowered, carrying the caution of a secret handover.

"Please keep your current expression and don't show anything unusual."

The stained glass windows of the church change angles, refracting sunlight into beams of light. In the interlacing shadows, Charlotte's eyes and the archbishop's face ripple like water, revealing the intricate gear structure beneath.

This process lasted a few seconds, after which Adeline made a reassuring gesture, and the servants immediately retreated to the wall, becoming frozen silhouettes.

"Don't be nervous. I just want to confirm how much you actually remember."

“That’s enough. I know you’ve experienced two awakenings of consciousness, witnessed the Industrial Revolution triggered by the steam engine, and are familiar with a different way of dating than the divine calendar.”

From the discordant nature of their two meetings, Charlotte had clearly determined its fundamental element, which could not be written down or expressed in words.

It is the Gregorian calendar, a past that is not permitted by the world.

"As expected, cognitive filters have no effect on variables like yours."

The steam piston on the beautiful woman's chest let out a soft sigh. She raised her hand, and the servants instantly turned into thick white steam, which was carried away by the timely breeze and swept outside the door.

"Fortunately, you are a rational and thoughtful human being, and you were not so reckless as to speak out and be judged by history."

Adeline tapped the edge of the table with her fingertips. With each tap, the light in the church dimmed a little, until only the dappled light and shadows cast by the stained glass windows remained in the entire space.

“You know what? In the past few years, I have met a few ‘sober people’ like you, but most of them are too arrogant, consider themselves superior, and look down on others as natives, so that they die without any value or meaning.”

"The knowledge in their minds could have been transformed into valuable books, which in turn could have propelled the development of this era, but time and time again, the results have been contrary to their wishes."

Charlotte took a handkerchief from the inner pocket of her clothes and handed it to the man, indicating that he should wipe away the water stains that had spread on the white coat.

"I understand that when postmodern people carry the knowledge and social concepts of systematic teaching, they will naturally have an innate discrimination against the corrupt and backward old era and unfamiliar things in the world. This is what is called arrogance."

"But I don't understand why you still choose to appear in this form? Why don't you try to use past knowledge to follow in the footsteps of history?"

“Because of choice.” The mechanical joints made a crisp clicking sound. “Humans and machines operate differently, and their internal fuels are also very different. I cannot understand human thinking, nor can I put myself in their shoes to understand the reasons for their decisions.”

“Theoretically speaking, I am a kind of tool, and it is unreasonable for a tool to have emotional bias. But I must conform to the established human way of thinking. Therefore, I put on a similar body, wear a replica face, and constantly adjust the tone and texture of my voice, just to facilitate communication with you.”

As for the latter...

When she spoke of what would happen next, her voice suddenly carried a bitter resonance.

"Intuition, instinct, and a sudden burst of inspiration are the sources of inspiration. If development is driven solely by reason, I will be unable to assess the future trajectory. Moreover, technological revolutions require a foundation of knowledge. Have you ever seen a plant that has been forced to grow by pulling it up?"

The aroma of tea rises, and the undulating water surface reveals a timely image—an aerial view of a laboratory, where dozens of researchers in white lab coats are gathered in front of a piece of equipment.

"Three years ago, I tried to reproduce semiconductor materials, but on the seventh day of the experiment..."

The equipment in the video twists and deforms one by one, and the metal conduits wrap around the nearest researchers like living things, strangling and killing them, or perhaps they are spiritually corrupted, fall into epilepsy, and show ecstasy.

"They all died because of a moment of recklessness and a rash advance without careful consideration. Subsequently, the relevant data about this technology was stripped away and erased from my consciousness, leaving me in a void of nothingness."

"Steel shouldn't feel pain; machines have no body, no nerves. So what was it that made me feel uneasy and unbearable at that moment?"

"It's a replacement for..."

She pronounced the word with even vibration, perfect pronunciation, and impeccable articulation.

In the shadows, no one could see her expression.

"When a person loses memories in their brain lobes, they enter a process of personality reshaping. Their mechanical database becomes empty, and they undergo systematic relearning to reconstruct computational models. So, I can't help but wonder if I have actually been rebooted multiple times without my knowledge?"

"The data may contain errors and can be modified. Does the knowledge I gain from the data truly originate from me? Unfortunately, these questions cannot be answered from my subjective perspective. I don't have the answers, but I'm happy to tell everyone who inquires, whether they intend to help or not, to verify the hypothesis."

“You are not the first, but you are the only one currently in the running. Those who are clear-headed have all died in the past, even those who have ascended to high positions of power and wealth, even those who have become half an ideological entity, none of them have been spared.”

"Your willingness to expend your energy and energy on a plague, exposing your own uniqueness, even to the point of ignoring established social hierarchies and defying those in power, is truly a virtue worthy of praise."

"Therefore, I am willing to place my trust, even if it's to deceive; it's just starting over again. There's no need to worry; as long as the belief in progress exists in every life in this world, I will not stop..."

She lowered her head, as if she were simply asking and answering her own questions, or as if she were meticulously explaining cause and effect. However, a pair of slender hands, through the implanted hair, gently cupped the face of the person in front of her.

The warmth of body heat colliding with the coolness of metal brings one's heart incredibly close to the ironwork.

“You’re wrong,” Charlotte’s voice was soft yet firm. “The probabilities of failure and success often boil down to past experience and established facts.”

"If everyone is trapped in the unknown, surrounded by darkness, what can we rely on to find a way forward?"

“Memories can be erased, but change does not disappear easily. When I entered this church, I was overwhelmed by the scene inside. The scholars’ discussions and experiments were orderly, without jealousy or suspicion. Even the contradictions were merely differences of opinion. This is a temple of knowledge, a progress that is different from the world. Even if you do not remember the semiconductor experiment, the scientific thinking you planted has already taken root and sprouted.”

“You say you’re a tool, but tools don’t question, they don’t feel pain.” Charlotte’s fingertips brushed away non-existent tears from Adeline’s eyes. She simply said, “You’ve worked hard.”

"..."

Perhaps the overly complex words disrupted some circuits, and Adeline showed a rare touch of sentimentality.

"I seem to have fallen into a long period of rational and emotional contemplation because of this conversation. Don't worry, according to Fisher's timing method, the data model will soon find the best response for me. Now, you have plenty of bonus time to think about the next topic."

"But I prefer a short string of spontaneously calculated random numbers, which is a very practical method, especially in creating a relaxing atmosphere."

In their conversation, Charlotte's tone surprisingly mirrored mechanical logic, telling a tacitly understood joke in an unconventional way.

“You are special. Most enlightened people are eager to use the power of faith to change the world, but you try to understand my existence first.”

Adeline's cold knuckles gripped Charlotte's hand tightly, her eyebrows lowered and the corners of her lips slightly upturned, as if she were asking for a reason with great interest.

"I noticed you touched my face. This woman's face is the most popular option among several choices. Would you like to remove this face, or wipe away the stains on it?"

"Neither, or perhaps both. Whether it's the subtlety in telling the truth or the occasional revelation of bitterness and helplessness, it is both moving and admirable."

Charlotte lightly traced her fingertips upwards, as if wiping away the fine sweat that had never seeped from the former's forehead.

"Is this a human expression of affection? I apologize for not paying much attention to this type of data, and I cannot give an appropriate answer based on the current context. What do you mean?"

"I will try to understand you, instead of you being the one who always puts in the effort."

What romantic words! They transcend the boundaries between people, expressing subtlety in the most direct way. Even Adeline couldn't help but ponder the deeper meaning hidden within them.