Iris Crawford usually had a sharp tongue, but it was rare for her to be left speechless by Number Nine. After a long silence, she asked, "How intelligent are you really?"
"I can engage in casual conversation."
Number Nine reached into Iris Crawford’s bathtub, swaying its hand as if trying to sense sothing, even emitting a beeping sound. "40 degrees, your preference has been entered into my database."
"What preference?"
"You like hot water for baths."
"..."
Iris Crawford was stunned, holding Number Nine’s head to her chest, gazing at it incredulously. "How do you behave so much like a human? Ah!"
"Our chips are quite powerful."
Buried in Iris Crawford’s impressive bosom, Number Nine couldn’t see anything, but it scanned through infrared, ensuring there was no danger outside. It gave a thumbs-up, "Artificial intelligence, you can trust it."
Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door, and Iris Crawford turned her head to see Lachlan Wyatt standing at the entrance. Tall and straight, his expression was full of displeasure, "What are you doing here?"
Number Nine turned its head and said to Lachlan Wyatt, "Afraid she might drown."
"You’re just a damn man, coming in to watch her bathe?"
Lachlan Wyatt was so annoyed he ground his teeth, "Get out!"
Number Nine pointed to itself, "I’m a robot."
"You’re set as male too!"
"I’m not like you; I wouldn’t be rough with her."
Number Nine resisted Lachlan Wyatt’s intent, remaining motionless by Iris Crawford’s tub, "From your expression and gaze analysis, you’re the one with intense emotions. I deem your presence a threat to her, so please leave."
"Or else."
Number Nine stood up, its neck tilting, emitting chanical sounds as if adjusting its movents and state.
The human-like skin on its right hand began to peel back, exposing a precise, cold chanical arm, which swiftly transford into a sharp knife after so rotations and fittings.
The knife’s tip pointed at Iris Crawford, "I’ll have no choice but to make you, this threat, disappear completely."
I am your guardian.
Loyal and unwavering.
Iris Crawford was petrified, retreating backward in the tub from the steel knife erging from Number Nine’s chanical arm. That knife was evidently sharp!
Lachlan Wyatt hesitated initially, then, after a prolonged pause, stepped forward and flicked Number Nine’s forehead hard.
Iris Crawford’s face turned pale, "Are you challenging a robot’s programming?"
Number Nine’s knife could easily decapitate Lachlan Wyatt!
Yet Lachlan Wyatt casually said, "Put the knife away! When I researched you, I publicly declared you as safe and benign, advancents helping humanity reach higher technological civilization. This move exposes everything, wanting to disgrace ?"
His words sounded like a father chastising his child.
"Oh."
Number Nine’s eyes lit up briefly, then said after a while, "It’s your programming, aning when developing us, you considered modifying us to have aggressive features..."
"How can there be no aggression?"
Lachlan Wyatt’s voice suddenly lowered, "Without aggression, I’d have to watch the tragedy of the past replay before my eyes."
So he silently programd robots with this self-defense chanism, fearing... the murder at age fifteen might replay.
Iris Crawford couldn’t comprehend the complexity in Lachlan Wyatt’s eyes. He seed like a contradiction, pushed and reshaped by destiny.
She felt, perhaps long ago, Lachlan Wyatt’s soul and self were shattered utterly, once.
His reassembled self now was so numb, so inhuman.
Protecting himself, to an almost perverse degree...
Number Nine retracted the knife, the skin on its arm folding back to cover the black steel arm tightly, rendering no anomalies visible from the outside.
After recovering, Number Nine flexed its five fingers one by one, as if checking for dysfunction, then said, "As long as she’s not in danger, I won’t casually do this again."
Lachlan Wyatt exhaled, placing a hand on Number Nine’s forehead, "Good, now, help find the locations of a few other robots, especially that female robot..."
Lachlan Wyatt’s words left Iris Crawford bewildered, but before she could think, Number Nine emitted a computer operating sound, and soon it reported precise coordinates—the locations of the remaining robots.
Perhaps Jonas Kingsley had hidden the robots, along with Liam Winslow’s kidnapped wife, in these places.
Lachlan Wyatt glanced at Iris Crawford; she nodded without needing further words, "I’ll pack up and leave with you tomorrow morning."
After saying this, Lachlan Wyatt still stood in place.
Iris Crawford frowned, making waves, "Why are you still standing there?"
Lachlan Wyatt’s Adam’s apple bobbed, "Your thighs are really white."
Iris Crawford pointed at him and said to Number Nine, "I order you to kill him now!"
******
Lucas Lane had been so busy these days, with many tasks for his foundation. After the Zelaria cri syndicate was disrupted not long ago, many won trafficked abroad were finally able to return ho. However, since they couldn’t find their families, the foundation temporarily sheltered and cared for them.
He cross-checked the list of recently sheltered young won and rubbed his temples, closing the computer. In the large office building, everyone else was gone. He headed out alone and found it raining outside as he reached the door.
Without an umbrella, Lucas Lane had to quickly call his assistant to return and pick him up.
At that mont, soone passed by, quietly raising an umbrella over his head.
Grateful, Lucas Lane turned to offer his thanks but his voice shifted in shock upon seeing the person’s face.
"Pearl...?"
Lucas Lane rubbed his eyes hard, "Am I going crazy... Why do I see you?"
Pearl Winters had perished long ago, killed by Liam Winslow. Why...
Pearl Winters said nothing, just held the umbrella for him. After a while, she said, "I’m glad you rember ."
Lucas Lane embraced her tightly, the umbrella dropping to the ground as he shook, "Are you soone who just resembles her? Or... am I dreaming all of this?"
"I’ve been kidnapped and threatened, you have to help ."
Pearl Winters frowned with reluctance, "Lucas... you’re the only one I can ask for help."
"Is it Liam Winslow?"
Lucas Lane trembled, reaching for Pearl Winters’s face, "Did you fake your death; has he kept you locked away all these years? Pearl—did you sneak away to seek help?"
Before he finished speaking, a severe pain attacked from his back.
The man coughed up blood, incredulously looking at the woman he held, and even Pearl Winters was stunned, tears streaming, "No... What are you doing, J, don’t do this!"
Nearby, Jonas Kingsley stood in the rain, pouring so heavily, one couldn’t keep their eyes open, obscuring his face.
The only visible thing was the crossbow in his hand.
An arrow had struck Lucas Lane’s back accurately, penetrating his bone and exploding shrapnel in his flesh.
Pearl Winters shook her head, "No... no... no..."
Lucas Lane swayed, falling to one knee, gripping Pearl Winters’s hand tightly, using his last strength to say, "Quick... run, go... find Lachlan."
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