SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Steven and Sotopia's paradoxically brief encounter has an unexpectedly anticlimactic ending.Although he was still blindfolded and stuffed into the car, when he took off the hood again, he could clearly see the lights of the familiar apartment building less than a hundred meters away.

It was the young man of Middle Eastern descent who did not give his name who drove him back.Along the way, the mysterious driver didn't say anything.But compared with the gloomy Maynard, his reticence is not because of his personality, but more like avoiding unnecessary troubles when he comes into contact with things he is not familiar with.In contrast, Steven, who thought he was a little older, seemed more stable—it was just that the agent chose to close his eyes and rest his mind in a bittersweet way when he couldn't see him.

When he left, Steven even yawned and couldn't help but ask, "Is this how you guys swagger around in Los Angeles?"

The young man seemed a little cramped—probably because of his personality all the time.After hesitating for a while, he replied, "I'm sorry, I haven't been here for long."

Steven took out his mobile phone and found that it was time to charge it.He was about to turn away when he heard the young man call to him again: "Ah, sir. Mr. Milesand asked me to give you this."

Steven looked at the Strider CQB series knife handed to him, feeling a little complicated. "It's not mine," he said. "It's probably even stained with the blood and brains of the assailant who didn't know where it came from."

The young man looked at him in embarrassment: "Mr. Myersand said that keeping it is of no value to us. He also described this dagger as a 'token of love' between you and Moskevich—"

The 32-year-old detective almost kicked a fire hydrant on the side of the road.

Maynard looked at Moskevich sitting in front of him with an indifferent expression, and at the same time quietly observed the strange observer from the corner of his eye.

The man's name was Alexander, and he was what Roberts Greert called a "deputy."

At first, Maynard thought that the one sent by Roberts would be the unsmiling Mrs. Schneider, but he didn't expect that it would be a familiar face who had no impression of him entering the investigation center with the mission document.

As the interrogating party, there was a one-way glass wall between them and Moskevich being interrogated.Such a design obviously creates a sense of oppression of the physical situation on the spirit rather than the body.

Moskevich almost desperately experienced the feeling of being thrown into a cage for the second time—even though he had never really seen what a prison looked like, for an experimental subject who almost grew up under the observation of others, survival itself was a prison .

"...It would be better to be buried alive by the mudslide at that time." No one heard his whisper.

The decadent young man stared straight at the identity belt on his wrist.He wasn't restrained by deadpan staff with handcuffs and shackles and the like.Even without such metal artifacts, he could not have left this place.Up to now, Moskevich didn't blame Steven anymore, after all, compared with others, that agent was even kind and harmless.

Maynard on the other side of the glass wall is also not easy - Moskevich's actual state is far worse than Steven's description, it seems to be a different person.

Tollin—the detective who had driven Steven's old car—was working on a computer, and a recording of testimony from a few days ago echoed in the soundproofed interrogation room.After playing for a while, Maynard signaled Torin to stop, and organized his thoughts to try to find new problems; Alexander's face was filled with a strange and slightly fanatical smile.

"... Moskevich," Maynard finally used the title. "If you are given a map, can you roughly point out the location of the laboratory, or the section of the road where the convoy was attacked?"

Moskevich looked coldly in the direction of Sotopia's opponents, with a calm resentment buried in his light gray eyes. "I can't." He replied flatly. "That kind of rainy weather, and it was at night. What's more, I didn't realize that I didn't have a strong sense of direction until I left the laboratory."

Maynard glanced at Alexander beside him.He still stared intently at the prisoner behind the glass wall, his eyes reminiscent of a falcon stalking its prey.

"Mr. Russell, I would like you to avoid it for a while." Alexander said suddenly, and got up straight to the metal door leading to the interior of the interrogation room.

Maynard stopped him subconsciously: "I'm sorry, it's still—"

Alexander picked up the document in his hand and pointed it directly in front of Maynard.The special powers of mission are almost above the scope of action of the special office, and they are overbearing and helplessly endowed with legitimacy.

"This is an exceptional situation," said the haughty special commissioner.

Maynard couldn't take it any longer.Watching Alexander open the door and walk towards Moskevich, he turned his head and said to Tolin, "Remember to copy a copy of the monitoring for me." Then he quickly left the interrogation room.Poor Torin could only stay there, watching the tense confrontation in the inquiry room, and trying every means to prepare for various possible emergencies.

Alexander propped his hands on the table, his upper body leaned forward, and his movements of looking down on Moskevich were full of aggression.

"The Sotopia you know is by no means limited to this." The deep voice seemed to be menacing. "To complete the 'Insight Plan', clarifying one's own position is an indispensable step."

Moskevich looked him in the eye without fear. "I really don't know. Or, you can try a lie detector on me?"

Alexander snorted contemptuously, and suddenly reached out and grabbed Moskevich's face.He approached the opponent's eyes, as if invading the opponent's heart.

Torrin hurriedly approached the microphone, and as soon as he started to stop the words, he was blocked by a dangerous look from Alexander.

"We can." Alexander's hypocritical smile made Moskevich feel a sudden chill.The calloused fingers pinching his chin made it impossible for him to escape, and the dignity that had not fully experienced setbacks did not allow him to evade.But Alexander's other hand had already grasped his wrist, fingers snaking along the dry, pale skin to the inside of the elbow. "Maybe we can try Veritaserum - that's what you said, too."

"The effect of that thing has been deified. What's more, anesthesia interrogation should be illegal." Although the words were tit-for-tat, Moskevich's trembling voice had already revealed the despair of being cornered after some miscalculations.

Alexander didn't care about that.He leaned close to Moskevich's ear and whispered in a volume that only the other party could hear: "Oh, maybe. But Sotopia is not the only 'outside the law' on the territory of this country, my pity false gods, or intellectual machines."