SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Escaping is anything but video game-like fun, aside from the overflowing thrill that nearly overwhelms the heart.Especially a lost person without a map, cash, or any kind of self-defense equipment. On a rainy night when the hurricane hits, he unilaterally aims to "escape", and only relies on the most basic common sense and intuition to walk along the empty highway. Stumbled up and down looking for a hiding place.Every struggling cell is clamoring for "danger", and the desire for survival and self-destructive instinct are almost integrated.

Of course, a relatively flat road is much better than the bushes in the middle of the mountain that I just passed through in the dark.In addition to the orange lights barely illuminating a circle of ground in the rain, the slightly convex terrain of this section also avoids the threat of a large amount of water in the low-lying areas.Compared with the wild lands outside the road, it is also less likely to encounter poisonous snakes that appear in summer.However, at this moment the fugitive does not even know where he is.The only thing that is clear is that the darkness in front of and behind him intersects with the orange light, and the passage above is isolated from the heavy rain-if you persist, you will be able to pass through this half-kilometer-long tunnel.

However, considering the stormy situation outside, he would rather find a safe corner to hide and wait for the rain to subside before making plans.If you are lucky, you may be able to stop an unknowing and unlucky private car in the tunnel-the owner may only treat him as a tourist who unfortunately got away in bad weather during camping, and will not take him Associated with down-and-out loner thugs; out-of-the-box attire can be easily fooled with just-scavenged cold-weather clothing.Even if it's just a piggyback to the nearest small town, everything can start all over again.Although he has the knowledge reserve and thinking ability of a fully developed "insighter", at this moment, he is so downcast that he has no time to consider whether an unfamiliar rescuer will pull him into another abyss.

The white coat that belonged to someone else was already soaked, and his own cotton shirt inside stuck to his skin, overflowing with discomfort that he didn't want to think about.The rain dripped under the fabric, wrapping the body stickily in fibers and fluids, and it didn't feel very pleasant.Even though it was midsummer, the cool wind carrying thick moisture through the tunnel still made him feel chills all over.The originally clean and soft gray hair drooped casually, probably already dirty like a down-and-out homeless person.

A few steps left is the entrance of the tunnel, which is the best place to wait and see.However, at this moment, he heard an ominous sound coming from the mountain above his head.

From the fission in the depths of the earth during the extinction period of ancient creatures, the irrational and desperate screams of reptiles, to the roar of the gathering of the ages tearing apart the architectural relics completed in BC, all the scenes about mud and collapse are from him. The mind flashed quickly, as if a creepy realistic third-person nightmare was completed in an instant.

— Mudslides.

If you get stuck in the tunnel and are overtaken by the opponent, things will probably be worse than death.

Thinking of this, the young fugitive leaned on the wall and stood up with difficulty.The abdomen that bumped into the rearview mirror when he rolled out of the car was still aching, and the bruises might have formed under his clothes.Still, the physical pain was less of a factor than losing his freedom for the second time before ending the past 27 years.

Ignoring the chemical reaction in the muscles and the pain of the wound, he started running again in desperation.

It was June 2009, and the shadow of a rather rare hurricane had not yet completely faded over the town of Clovis.

"I really don't want to do it anymore."

Outside the dark red old jeep is the continuous rain and distant thunder.Only one and a half days had passed since the sensational mudslide. It was only sixteen hours before the mouth of the tunnel was re-drilled and the only trapped person was rescued. Steven Krebs' short vacation has already been followed by the warning of the hurricane. Arrived in vain for half a week.Since the pre-scheduled end date of the vacation has not yet arrived, even though he cannot prove his strength with a fishing rod and a gun, he does not intend to return to his boss, Maynard, in advance.

However, the unkind Maynard has called directly - which makes Steven once again ignite the urge to hand in his resignation letter.

"Don't think about quitting, you still have an eight-year-old adopted daughter who was picked up from the scene of the murder and is still at the summer camp collecting firewood and singing nursery rhymes with her friends, a house with an unpaid mortgage and an outdated broken car, and There is a task at hand that has not yet begun." Maynard's voice on the phone was as calm and unquestionable as ever, with the hoarseness caused by long-term smoking.Sometimes, Steven felt that his voice did not match his quiet and gloomy appearance, but it matched his sharp and decisive style, and his professional ability at the level of an outstanding student of the FBI National Academy.

"No, I actually paid it off at the beginning of last year..." The low-level detective, who was turning the steering wheel with one hand and casually scanning the road in front of the car, sighed—to be honest, in such a department with special functions, "resigning is not a big deal." It’s done.” Such a decision can only be said in words.Facing this boss, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and obey orders.After all, from another point of view, except for the right threat, Maynard, who has known him for many years, is already very tolerant of his complaints.

"So, why can it be determined that the wounded is 'related to Sotopia' now? This is too hasty. And is it okay to let me go alone? According to their intelligence capabilities, if your judgment is correct, there must be Something has been done."

"You will know when you see the evidence. After all, there is a lesson from the 'Silver Castle Incident', and the fire station over there has also arranged for an observer. Speaking of asking you to go—" On the other end of the phone, Maynard He seemed to be smiling lowly. "Who made you happen to be nearby."

"..." Steven shook his head helplessly, not daring to pound his fists on the steering wheel—this is his private car, and if something goes wrong, he can only pay for the repair, and he has to leave it to his colleagues. laughing stock.

"You're bold." That's all Steven had to say.

"Kay will also rush over to arrange the transfer. It's not safe for that person to stay there."

"Just because she always wanted to drive an ambulance?"

"Isn't that good? Her driving level is much higher than yours."

Putting down the microphone in his hand, Maynard looked up at the red-haired woman standing outside the glass door of the office, his calm expression under the black-rimmed glasses still gave the illusion of lack of energy.The female detective in the second half of her twenties has a good figure, her sexy and dangerous courage is impressive; the simple and refreshing white shirt is tied with a black gun belt, and there is a walkie-talkie hanging on it-she has just been out of the field, and her face Hanging some thin sweat.

As if standing too tired, she simply folded her arms and leaned against the door frame, and asked with great interest and a relaxed expression: "He mentioned resignation again?"

Maynard looked calm, with no ups and downs in his tone: "I refused."

"I knew it." Kay shrugged, took out the car key from his trousers pocket, turned it around, waved his hand and walked outside. "I'm off to work."

In view of the particularity of the personnel involved, before driving an ambulance to the district hospital to pick up the patient, she also needs to complete the preparatory procedures for the docking at the contacted urban hospital, which is basically tedious but indispensable work.Having said that, for this department that mainly collects peripheral information and writes documents, boring and trivial details are the norm.

Maynard nodded at her back, then turned his attention to the mail that had just arrived from the district hospital.In the attached photo, in addition to a human medical chip that has been taken out, there is also a dirty white coat-without any logos of relevant regions and institutions.Maynard still had an encrypted fax that had just arrived, and the paper was covered with the faint heat brought by the machine.On the top of the letter with only a few lines, there was a pattern that made him feel uncomfortable from the bottom of his heart.

A swimming snake is entrenched on the world tree, spitting out a dangerous letter to the sky; the circle with black background and white characters printed with the official name of sotopia wraps this rather retro pattern in the center.

Such a letter is already like a declaration of war.