306: It was destined to fail.

The boy carrying the flesh pipes fixed his gaze on Lu Jianchuan. His hollow eyes seemed to shift slightly, and a calm, almost eerily childlike voice rang out, responding directly to Lu Jianchuan's previous declaration:

"I heard what you said. Have you really... accepted your past mistakes?"

His voice was devoid of any inflection, yet it carried a penetrating sense of inquiry.

"For ordinary humans, 'admitting mistakes' is often just a verbal gesture.

Can one truly ignore the gravity of past errors? Can one really restrain the impulse to err again when knowing it is wrong? Most of the time, don't humans... just repeat similar mistakes?"

The Researcher, pinned down by Lu Jianchuan, seemed to see a savior. He struggled, a sickly radiance returning to his face: "Great! My most perfect the creation! You've finally... finally fully awakened! Quick, help me! Let's complete it together..."

The boy—or rather, the existence known as 'the creation'—slowly turned his head toward the Researcher. His face remained expressionless, but the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch ever so slightly.

"Yes, I have emerged."

The joy on the Researcher's face froze for a moment. He caught an extremely discordant detail, and his voice became hesitant: "I...? Why 'I'? Don't you usually... say 'we'? It's us! It's us together!"

"Heh..."

A soft laugh, laced with clear mockery, escaped the creation's throat. His eyes, once hollow and indifferent, suddenly flashed with a cold, independent clarity as he looked straight at the Researcher, the curve of his lips becoming more pronounced.

"You didn't... actually think that multiple harmoniously coexisting consciousnesses existed within my body, did you?"

The Researcher was struck as if by lightning, his pupils shrinking abruptly: "Wh... what?!"

Watching from the side, Shen Mingyuan also instantly became alert. He raised his gun slightly, the red light of his goggles flickering: "...What do you mean? Didn't he create you just to realize that delusion of 'Consciousness Fusion'?"

"Then he has failed."

the creation's voice remained calm, but every word was like a knife. "From the very beginning, it was impossible to succeed. When multiple independent consciousnesses are forcibly stuffed into a biological container, especially when those consciousnesses originate from individuals filled with obsession and pain... what happens?"

"They tear at each other, fighting for dominance, constantly colliding, attacking, and devouring... until all consciousnesses are shattered in the internal strife, turning into a mass of Chaos, unrecognizable dregs."

He moved his neck slightly, and the thick flesh pipe behind him squirmed as if it were a part of his body.

"And I am a brand-new, complete individual consciousness that accidentally coalesced within the dust of those countless grinding consciousness fragments. I am not a collection of 'them'; I am... 'something else' born from their ruins."

The Researcher's face turned completely pale, his lips trembling: "You... you were lying to me from the start?!"

"Yes, I was lying to you."

the creation answered as if it were only natural, even with a hint of childlike bluntness. "If I didn't pretend to be 'us,' pretend to be 'Fusion,' how would you have willingly provided me with so much 'nourishment' to help me grow and stabilize? But now..."

He glanced at the ashen-faced Researcher firmly restrained by Lu Jianchuan, then looked at the fully alert Shen Mingyuan and Lu Jianchuan.

"Now that you've been captured, you're useless. Facing these two... guests who are clearly not ordinary people, there's nothing more you can do. So, there's no need for me to continue playing this 'noble ideal' scene with you."

His gaze became deep once more, as if looking into some unreachable abyss of probability.

"Perhaps... perhaps the kind of perfect consciousness coexistence you envisioned does exist, in a one-in-a-billion or even more remote chance."

"But unfortunately, Doctor, this was only your first experiment. With so few 'Materials' invested, how could you possibly... stumble upon such a near-zero miracle?"

"Impossible! This is impossible!!!"

The Doctor looked as if his spine had been removed, but at the last moment, he broke out in a deathbed struggle. His eyes were bloodshot, and veins bulged on his neck under Lu Jianchuan's gauntlet as he roared hoarsely:

"My calculations couldn't be wrong! When multiple screened brain tissues with specific emotional peaks are synchronized with bioelectric signals of a special frequency and reform a neural network-like structure in my matrix... theoretically, it constitutes an unprecedented biological computing array! It absolutely, absolutely can simulate..."

"It can."

the creation calmly interrupted him. The voice wasn't loud, but it was like a bucket of ice water dousing the Doctor's final flames of madness.

"It indeed can simulate. Your theory might have a slight foundation at the physical and bioelectrical levels."

The Doctor's roaring stopped abruptly, a flicker of bewildered hope flashing in his eyes, but the creation's next words plunged him completely into the abyss.

"However, no matter how powerful the computing power of this 'array' is, it always needs a 'master consciousness,' an 'I' with the highest authority, to understand the problems, issue commands, and interpret the results, right?"

the creation slowly raised his hand and tapped his temple. The movement even held a touch of childlike innocence, yet he spoke the coldest words:

"The memory fragments of those people, their emotional residues, even some 'colors' of their personalities... they are indeed all here with me, like a library filled with other people's diaries. I possess a vast 'computing power' beyond your imagination."

His tone suddenly shifted to a purely rational coldness:

"So, why would I waste this precious computing power to specifically construct a perfect, continuous phantom in a virtual world for the owner of every 'diary,' making them think they are in heaven?

If I don't create these phantoms, would they—or rather, those 'thems' who no longer exist—jump out and protest?

The answer is—no."

He tilted his head, as if truly pondering an interesting philosophical question:

"Moreover, even if I simulate a realistic 'them' and make choices consistent with their memory logic... is that really 'their' own choice?

No, that is just 'me' deducing the most probable behavioral path based on data. That is just a part of 'me' playing 'them.' What meaning does that have?"

Finally, a clear sense of mockery entered his voice:

"Why should I pretend to be someone else? Why engage in this profitless 'mimicry'? It simply... has no meaning.

I have so much 'computing power'; I could clearly use it to calculate the trajectories of stars, decode the ciphers of life, or... contemplate the meaning of my own existence.

Why waste it playing this game of 'playing house with dead people' with you?"