SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Maynard Russell sat on the leather sofa in the small living room, dressed in a suit and leather shoes as always, with a cup of coffee with half a spoonful of sugar, and his heart was not as calm as his appearance.

This is a special branch for Sotopia, commonly known as the Special Office of Statistics and Supervision of the Los Angeles Regional Bureau. It is directly under the command of Roberts Greert, one of the assistant directors of the FBI. It is Maynard who has worked for five years and six months. However, a familiar environment does not always represent a well-thought-out plan and a well-planned strategy-when you meet an opponent, you will inexplicably have a sense of determination like "Moscow is behind you" and there is no way out.What's more, even though he bears the name of the head of the department, his every move still needs to be restricted by two parties: one is his immediate boss and the group behind the boss, and the other is the group of the uninvited guest who is sharing the same room with him. The "transnational behemoth" is also the object they were ordered to investigate and supervise.

The blond man sitting across from Maynard did not look American.

In Maynard's view, judging the age of this person is not an easy task - if you only look at the face, the man seems to be no more than 35 years old, and a little younger than him; the ice blue eyes are like a taciturn elder , sharp and profound, but also hides many secret past events that are unknown to the public, with an indifferent expression and a calm demeanor.

This man of special status was well dressed, from collar to cuff, and even wore out-of-season gloves.Next to the right eye near the temple is a terrifying scar that does not match its appearance. Although it is deliberately covered by dark golden hair, it is still easy to attract the attention of others. It is not difficult to imagine the severity of the scar.And this also makes it difficult to tell whether the other party is a former soldier with a military background who once haunted the battlefield, or a civilian who focuses on office work.Rather, this person himself has a strong sense of existence, and the purpose of coming here is not like an equal "communication", but a condescending "order".Although the other party claims to be from the intelligence department, his temperament and appearance are not suitable for hiding in the crowd. Instead, he reminds people of a martyr who is ascetic in appearance but fanatical in heart.

"I'm Mills Fraser, and I'm currently the second-in-command of Sotopia's International Intervention Branch." Mills' voice and expression were as indifferent and alienated from the inside out, and there was no deliberate tone of voice, and he didn't even intend to Modify your expression to give others the illusion of being approachable. "I'm here this time for one person."

After that, the tall black man who was standing silently behind him and also wearing a tailored suit took out a photo from his briefcase, pressed it on the table, and pushed it in the direction of Maynard.

Although he had a premonition, Maynard's heart skipped a beat the moment he saw the contents of the screen.

"You guys are so fast." Maynard showed a subtle expression that was half a smile.

The young man in the photo is sitting in the middle of the pile of books, smiling at the camera, his gray hair is particularly conspicuous.

When he entered the hospital for the second time, Steven brought a book, but did not buy any more flowers.

Seeing the subject of observation sitting on the head of the bed leaning on the soft long pillow, no longer pretending to be asleep, despite having a premonition, he couldn't help being shocked by how quickly the other party's body recovered.The white-haired young man was looking out the window sideways.From Steven's point of view, most of his expression is blocked by the hair hanging down to the neckline, but it is not difficult to see that his appearance is of a high level-at least according to Steven's aesthetics.Just looking at the appearance, this is almost a mysterious and pure person, at least not like an ordinary criminal or victim.

"Are you awake?" Steven stood at the end of the bed, examining him condescendingly as last time.The two nurses tidying up the ward quickly finished the work in hand and closed the door knowingly.

The young man turned his head and looked straight at him, so Steven saw the other's face.The corners of the young man's eyes are slightly raised, with a natural cunning, but an innocent expression like a good citizen.What formed the contrast was the calm and indifferent eyes on top of the artificial friendly demeanor—this may be because the pupils were too cold——Steven speculated once.After a moment of stalemate, the other party tilted his head and smiled, "The weather is fine."

Steven couldn't help being speechless—here was the second floor, and all he could see outside the window were the low-hanging cumulonimbus clouds and the listless landscape trees not far away. He really didn't understand what else could be called "good" at this time.

When they came last time, the other party was still lying on the bed, pretending to be a poor comatose wounded; but this time, the detective finally saw a sober "Anonymous".The lucky survivors still had neat snow-white gauze wrapped around their necks, and a few bandages could be seen faintly under the neckline of the hospital gown, which looked clean and pure.The young man's expression is very relaxed, and even somewhat uncontrollable joy, which is even more puzzling.

Steven took out the recording pen, put it on the low cabinet next to the bed together with the book in his hand, and pulled a chair to sit down.That book caught the youth's attention.After obtaining consent with a questioning look, he turned sideways and took the book directly into his hands.

"Then I'll start following the process."

"I will fully cooperate." The young man still maintained a smile that was so sincere that suspicious people would think it was false, which made Steven feel uncomfortable.

——Even if others see this expression, they will find it unpleasant.

Steven thought so.

"Name?" he asked formally.

What should have been a simple question turned into a stalemate.

"How should I put it—" The young man rubbed the spine of the book, wiping the author's name intentionally or unintentionally with his fingers. "They didn't give me a name, unless something like 'No. 071' would count. If I had to call it one—'Moscovici,' how about it? Looks like you like his work."

"...Hello." Steven was a little embarrassed when he encountered a problem at the beginning. "Are you serious?"

"I thought the name only needed to serve as a proxy." The white-haired young man—according to his meaning, it seems that he should be called "Moskevich" now—behaved innocently and sincerely. "If you investigate thoroughly, you will find that I am not good at lying, and I have no reason to tease you, Mr. Detective. I just intend to tell everything I know, so that I may be able to return to freedom sooner. Or Said, you also plan to imprison me, and use something like Veritaserum to squeeze out all the information?"

——This person is very important. If necessary, you can make appropriate concessions on the premise of stabilizing the other party.At least don't let him have the idea of ​​running away, our follow-up investigation will catch up soon.

"Okay, Moskevich." Complying with Maynard's request, Steven chose to compromise and swallowed the phrase "I hate the way you talk."Calling the name of a social psychologist to a mysterious young man, Steven just felt uncomfortable, but he had to suppress such an emotion under his steady voice; what's more, the other party's simple words A large enough amount of information has been hidden behind the words. "We can skip the topic of names for now. By the way, I was a sociology major in college and was very interested in his theories."

Moskevich seemed interested, with little awareness that he was being questioned. "Can I borrow this book for a few days? They let me read many kinds of books before, but apart from those literary works, these are the more interesting ones."

Steven keenly grasped the key word "they", and then changed the previous routine interrogation method - after all, unconventional departments need unconventional means to deal with unconventional witnesses.He stood up, pulled Moskevich's "The Domesticated Man and the Wild Man" out of his hand, and put it on the window sill out of Moskevich's reach. "Of course there is no problem. I can bring any books you want if necessary, but after answering my questions."

Moskevich smiled and didn't stop Steven's movement, but just waited quietly for him to speak.

Facing this strange young man who didn't play cards according to common sense, Steven couldn't help sighing: "You are more than I imagined——"

"Cooperate?"

Steven corrected: "No, talkative."