SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Mills sat quietly in the back of the car, having taken off his suit jacket to reveal the leather gun belt tied over his vest.At this time, one of his hands was holding his right knee tightly, as if suppressing some unbearable pain.It is not difficult to see the extent of his exertion from the folds of his clothes, but the indifferent expression on the Englishman's face has not changed in any way.

"Secretary," Wheeler, who was sitting in the driver's seat and holding the steering wheel, observed Mills' status through the rearview mirror from time to time.Mills' complexion was not very good-looking, which reminded him of the incident six years ago like a conditioned reflex. "Could it be a prosthetic limb—"

Mills shook his head: "No, it's just the weather." He let go of his hand.

Weller hesitated and withdrew his worried gaze.Thinking of the previous conversation with Maynard, as if he wanted to mobilize the atmosphere, he chose to start another topic: "Looking at their caliber, it doesn't seem like they will act according to the agreement; I also noticed Maynard's expression just now. It was not very friendly at the beginning. Do we have to change our approach accordingly?"

"I didn't intend for them to cooperate in the first place," Mills replied. "This time, I mainly want to confirm a few things."

"Haha," Wheeler laughed. "you made it?"

"That's it."

"But, is this considered to be the goal?"

"Mrs. Renault's entrustment only includes these contents. After we have conveyed her opinion, it is enough to keep on the sidelines. For her, 'No. 071' is probably not just an experimental subject; but from our point of view, apart from the As far as favors are concerned, he is at most an important pawn. However, this may be the key to bringing down those old-school old foxes."

"After clearing the internal obstacles, the next step is to deal with the external pressure..."

"This is what we are called to do. The more troublesome theoretical problems of scientific fetishism, gestalt, structural functionalism, and the ultimate meaning of human society are left to the idealists of the society. We just need to do the dirty work for them Just fine."

Seeing the heavy traffic ahead, Wheeler had to reduce his speed. "But it's too dangerous to leave the experimental subject in their hands," he said.

Mills observed the situation outside the car, and responded quietly: "They don't dare to do anything to him for the time being. Especially that Steven Krebs, his situation is more complicated."

After a few minutes, the unremarkable black car finally drove away from the most congested road with the narrow traffic flow.This time, it was Mills who spoke first: "Is there any news about that man...?" His tone was a little stiff, as if he felt very unnatural to mention this man by a vague pronoun.

Willer's expression was a little embarrassed: "Not yet. However, I don't think he will be against you anyway, Director."

"That lunatic is unreasonable." Mills showed a rare emotional side.Weller has been with him for many years. He knows the cause and effect, and knows how to deal with his boss who is not as calm as the surface when he encounters certain situations.Even so, it is not an easy task to reasonably comfort each other.

"Belikova and Jason also acted with him. If there are special circumstances, she will at least inform you and me. Although it is not appropriate for me to say these words as an outsider, the relationship of mutual trust between you should not be so fragile. .Oh, and he's been so gentle with you."

"Willer, you talk too much." Mills smiled wryly.

"Sorry sorry, I'll pay attention next time."

In Mills' eyes, Los Angeles at the end of June was as dull as the thousands of strategic intelligence reports he had to deal with every day, and running errands like this became a kind of pastime.It wasn't until he passed a skyscraper construction site that was still under construction that his eyes flickered.

"If it was six years ago, I would have given him my life." Mills, who is now the director of the Strategic Planning Bureau under the Sotopia International Intervention Branch, murmured to himself.

Looking out from the car window, the brand-new building that is no longer called the Silver Castle Building is still wrapped in exoskeleton-like construction equipment and isolation nets; in front of the building is a small square, and there are monuments engraved on it. name.Although nearly six years have passed since the tragedy, bouquets of flowers and candles are still placed in front of the memorial.There are young children playing on the edge of the small fountain.Children who are less than five years old may not know what happened here, and even the footsteps of death are far away and inaudible; the staff who were seriously injured in the incident also gradually returned to the right track of life after recovering.Just like the remaining bricks of the building that were demolished and transferred after the explosion, they have already cooled and lost their temperature after more than 2000 days and nights, leaving only mottled traces of burning and collapse.Even so, in the corner of the monument, there is still a man who is no longer young standing silently, holding a bouquet of roses tied with black gauze in his hand.

In the hustle and bustle of the city, the depressive scene is probably just a passing moment; the cruel chapter that took away many fresh lives and burned the common hope will be long and deeply engraved in the memory of some people.

The black car drove past the former site of the Silver Castle Building without even slowing down.Drive forward a few hundred meters, and you will arrive at the surviving sister building of Yinbao Building - Fuxing Building.

But before that, Mills gave Wheeler a wink in the rearview mirror.Wheeler changed lanes knowingly, and turned to another road leading to the suburbs before the red light.

"You've noticed it too." Mills said, with his right hand still wearing a glove, he skillfully pulled out the well-maintained Magnum pistol in the holster, put on the muffler leisurely, and the bullets were already loaded. I can't get used to it.

Wheeler, who was holding the steering wheel firmly, also remained unchanged. "Have been following us for half an hour, and we have rotated three cars in the middle: two white ones and one silver-gray one."

Mills praised without any ups and downs: "Very good observation skills. So, the assassination against me can also exercise the effect of training you, killing two birds with one stone."

Immediately afterwards, he motioned for Wheeler to pull over to the side of the road.Not far away, a few stylishly dressed teenagers on skateboards were talking and laughing as they walked through the long and narrow city park, and hurried office workers braved the scorching sun to get their lunch at the nearest fast food restaurant.

A middle-aged man in the uniform of an administrator walked over from the shade, holding a baseball cap that was used as a fan in his hand.The man knocked on Mills' car window, as if to ask something.

Mills rolled down the window.Before the middle-aged man took out his hand from his trouser pocket, the bullet from the Magnum pistol Mills held had already pierced his heart, and the sound of the gun only disturbed the birds on the landscape trees ten meters away. .

"Get rid of those three cars, and finally this person is their backup weapon." Mills said calmly.

Steven sat on the bed in a single motel room, with an open suitcase next to the bed, and packed fishing tackle and loose clothing on the bed.

After confirmation by the hospital, Moskevich's condition has stabilized and can be transferred; the weather is getting better and this is further confirmed.The next day, Kay will happily drive an ambulance to this place with several security and medical personnel to undertake the transfer work.Steven will of course also drive along.

Looking back on his previous actions, Steven felt complicated.Whether it was the few instructions conveyed by Maynard or the testimony provided by Moskevich, there were too many unreasonable things, and in his position, he could not raise any unsuitable questions.

Flipping through the diagnosis and treatment reports provided by the regional hospital, Steven called Maynard's private phone again.Looking at the clock on the wall pointing to ten o'clock in the evening, he only hoped that he would not disrupt the late night conversation between his boss and some important guests.

The other party responded quickly.It looks like I didn't pick the wrong time.

"What's the matter Steven, is there anything else that needs to be confirmed?" Maynard's voice sounded lifeless.

"No, I just want to ask a little bit."

"We're going to be transferred tomorrow."

"I want to get the answer before I go back to Los Angeles." Steven's voice was very determined.