[Quick Transmigration] A report on the adaptation of an AI to society

Dr. Payne Lilienthal aligned the materials in his hand on the table, cleared his throat, and began to follow the script: "LD-349, in the next series of simulation tests, I will evaluate your social adaptability based on your performance, The simulated environment ranges from simple to complex, as long as you get grade B or above in it, you can obtain the approval of the Association of Artificial Intelligence and Society, and permanently possess the current temporary carbon-based body and social identity, so—are you ready? "The silver-haired young man waved his arms exaggeratedly like the host of an old-fashioned puzzle show, but he didn't get a look from the other party.

The person on the opposite side shook his heavy head—his head was covered in a helmet, and the voice came out in a muffled voice, "Doctor, I don't think it's necessary to waste this time on these meaningless things, I don't like this kind of society I am not interested in the identity, you can just hire me as your permanent assistant."

"I think so too," the doctor shrugged, threw down the printing paper in his hand, and put his foot on the table carelessly, "But the procedure still needs to go, otherwise people from the Affirmative Action Association will come to make trouble again, accusing me of disrespecting every AI. rights—I'm already notorious for that."

The other party straightened the bulky helmet, "Then let's start, I'm ready."

The doctor jumped up from his chair, threw himself on the console and entered a lot of parameters with his fingers flying, "Okay! I hope to see you soon." The doctor said, "I will make up some bad deeds for the examiner during this period that you endanger society After all, you are the most suitable AI I have ever seen to devote yourself to science-God knows why those guys are so violent and let you fall in love!"

"Let's start, LD-349, I wish you a happy game, this is an immersive simulation device I participated in the research and development, although it is still in the testing stage..." The doctor's nagging voice began to become blurred, and LD-349 closed his eyes , Start your own "final exam" to adapt to society.

It is very easy to be indifferent to anything during the day, but it is another matter at night. - Ernest Hemingway

You jumped out of the car, leaned on the wooden fence, flipped lightly, and stepped on the lawn steadily. The thunderstorm that just passed had absorbed water on the lawn, which could eliminate the noise like a sponge. That's why you didn't go through the main entrance.The building in front of me was a bit out of place, but in the young Washington, it looked like the old man's withered eyeballs, and the chaotic crystals were haloed with neon colors.You glance at your watch and your gaze falls on the wide open wooden door.

No one, thank goodness the timber-framed house has ceramic floor tiles so there's no creaking, but you still don't want to make any extra noise, professional habits make you sneak into the room breathlessly - co-workers are always This habit of yours scares you, complaining that you are like a wandering wraith.

You walked upstairs with silent steps, the smell of rust in the air became stronger, you frowned, you don't like blood, it reminds you of a dirty slaughterhouse, and a mountain of viscera where flies are flying around.But your job is just to be the hapless cleaner responsible for all the mess these nasty butchers make, and get no thanks for it - God knows how many layers of purgatory you have peeked into for the people.

You come to the upstairs study room, the door is wide open, there is no light source, only the street lights seep in through the window, casting a dim light on the room, like the peace in the wildest dream, you still can’t see clearly Inside, but you only need to take a breath here to know what's inside - your victim is inside.

You looked at the opened door and felt a little weird, you knew that you would not meet your dear wanted criminal here, and even this action was just a cute little trick by him/her, but under the psychological expectation of being fooled, You still faintly feel a trace of uneasiness, haunted in your heart since you saw this gloomy building, with every breath settled, it seems that there is something dormant in the darkness, staring at you with pitch-black eyes.Your gut tells you - go back and get out as soon as possible, the sooner the better.But you have never turned back, and turning back means giving in, and only because of your own vague and absurd intuition.You exhale lightly, and still step into the room calmly, the cold and hard lines calm you down, you are the best detective, nothing has broken your rock-like sanity, and this time is no exception.

You try to turn on the light, but the crisp click does not bring brightness, you try a few more times patiently, still the same, you back out, and as expected, you see a piece of wire hanging down.You walk back and step on the soft carpet, and the victim lies four yards from the toe of your shoe, blood seeping into the woolen fabric, making it tread like a rotting swamp.You just visited this old man a few days ago, and he showed Stanley and you the ancient books in his study in good spirits, as well as various proposals representing his glory in that day. Robinson also said with a smile to Stanley He could continue to be an "easy chair member" in the House of Representatives, and his vitality was not inferior to that of any young man, but now he was lying here lifeless, and everything he planned was easily terminated by a bullet.

Large open window sills, humid air, tightly closed bookcases, neat desks, coffee cups rolling in the corner, spilled coffee extending from the carpet to the wooden corner, has become a brown stain, the victim lay on his back Facing the direction of the window.

The murderer sneaked into the room, cut the wires, and shot the poor old gentleman as he staggered up to check.

The idea is very simple, so simple that it is strange.

There are no other clues, you search the room, even fiddle with the dead disrespectfully, nothing, nothing, except the bullet in the head of this gentleman, you ponder for a moment, and plan to go downstairs to search again.

"Hey! Sir, please put down your arms!"

The yelling of the loudspeaker cuts through the dead silence, the noise makes you have a headache, the police's iconic red and blue flashes light up the house, you squint your eyes and raise your hands cooperatively, the yelling police rushed to the car that took you away. Gun, you didn't resist, so your bullets and chocolates were also searched.

"I am official FBI agent Hector Lin, please give me time to explain," you calmly argued while enduring the treatment of these criminal suspects: "I received a report from the red wanted criminal 'Black Sparrow' The trend news shows that the black sparrow will appear at the house of Robinson, so..."

"Sir, the suspect's footprints and fingerprints have been extracted to preliminarily confirm his murder." Footprints?At this time, the emergency lights have been turned on, and the bright light falls on the white porcelain floor tiles, and you can see your own extended footprints.You were stunned for a moment, and the person known as the officer saw your reaction, and his tone provoked subtle sarcasm: "Okay, please go to the police station and talk, Mr. 'Agent', all right! The suspect has been arrested, and no one was injured. .”

Your excuse was stuck in your throat, and the police handcuffed you and threw you into a police car, carried away the body, and sealed off the scene.You don't say a word, they think you are dumb before the hard facts, but you are just sorting everything out quickly.

Thunderstorms, electric gates, spilled coffee, wooden structures, tiles.Suspicions flashed through your mind like thunder, and you realized that your previous speculation was indeed the truth—just the "truth" you wanted to show the police, a simple murder by the name of Hector.

You've accidentally fallen into a mousetrap that's so ingeniously ingenious that it hits every weakness of your prey—arrogance, arrogance, and you'd want to clap your hands if you weren't the hapless victim. Applause.It's not impossible to escape, but it will take some work, you think, and it seems that it will anger those old men again—it's not the first time anyway.

It's such a bad night, you think, that you haven't had dinner yet.

The author has something to say:

I don't want to write reasoning too much (?-ι_-｀) Don't ask me how I murdered, I might know...