《The Armorer and the Infinite Dungeon》Ch 136. Christophorus Hatchenson
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The body I now inhabited, one that looked exactly like the avatar of Infinity Paradox Proxima animated by the Shogun Gate of Undertown, was an empty shell in every sense of it.
Unlike Alexa Terranova it didn’t have an existing, spiky personality attached to it, and didn't have energy or life or magic coming from it. It was a soulless, empty human and I suspected had I not inhabited it, then this body would simply most likely die from dehydration and rot away on this bench.
Human-Infi, as I chose to dub her, had nothing inside of her body except for my fractal soul woven together from different varieties of Juni-ness.
I began to suspect that this was one of a multitude of other bodies manufactured at the edge of Eureka, printed into existence by machine life. As I wondered how exactly the misfortunate girl lost her mind and soul, the streets of the infinite city around me began to light up with myriads of windows coming to life. Other Eurekans were waking up to their manufactured existence, getting out of bed in the morning, not knowing that they were in fact remade for all eternity ad nauseam.
I checked the pockets of my black and white jacket and pants and found nothing within them. I had no credit cards, no ID, no money… no way to survive in this bewildering, vast metropolis.
It didn’t matter. I had magic. I would persist and face whatever came my way.
I returned to the bench upon which I came into existence and waited for more shops to open up. In a few more minutes the street became populated. People emerged out of their apartments, heading to their jobs. Everyone was wearing a variety of interesting, unique, futuristic clothes featuring the [G] logo on them.
I smirked at the pedestrians, observing various people as they headed into Metro stations, maglev trains lighting up to welcome the early morning workers.
The concept of having a job after coming into existence seemed ludicrous. The pedestrians seemed determined, and didn't spare me a single glance. They all HAD places to be. All of them had a flickering trio of blue lights either on their glasses or on the side of their head as a band or headphones. Maybe it was some kind of futuristic Wi-Fi or something.
With every passing minute the streets became more crowded, more packed with people.
In another twenty minutes I spotted a man in the crowd that lacked the Wi-Fi lights on him. My mouth fell open as he shambled by me, yawning. He wasn’t wearing a full-face covering mask, but he had exactly the same black and white snowboarding jacket on, same backpack with the letter G and the same blue, folding lenses that were hanging from a pocket.
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“...Charles Snippy?” my lips uttered on their own.
The man momentarily froze mid-stride. He looked around the crowd of people around him, confused as to who had said his name. His brilliant, blue eyes glanced right past me.
It was Charles! It was him! It had to be!
I got up from the bench to yell his name again, but the crowd of moving pedestrians engulfed him and he was gone. I stepped closer to my birth-bench, not wanting to be swept up by the ever-increasing mass of humanity.
My eyes settled on a large holographic display atop one of the skyscrapers.
[6:27 AM] It said. If Charles left work at approximately this time, if he lived somewhere nearby, then I could definitely find him again tomorrow.
“Would you like a hotdog, Miss?” A man in a dark, leather coat and black hat suddenly stepped out of the crowd.
“Hrm?” I turned to him.
“They’re on sale today, only 2500 credits,” he smiled.
There was something unnerving about his smile. It was too perfect, his teeth too white. His pure-white hair looked unnatural too, peeking out from beneath a dark brown fedora. Sharp green eyes beneath sunglasses examined me as if dissecting me. He reminded me of Three, which instantly didn't make him likable in my books.
“I’m good,” I said, my guard instantly up. I was already pulling power from Zariya, weaving a barrier shield between me and the man in the coat. “What are you? A hot-dog salesman or something? Where’s your hot-dog cart?”
“No need to be so tense, Miss,” the man kept smiling. “I just want to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t believe we’re introduced,” I said.
“I’m Detective Christophorus Hatchenson,” the man said, green eyes drilling into me.
“Yulia Ishenko,” I replied briskly.
“That’s not what your ID says,” the detective said.
“My ID?” I blinked. “What do you want, detective?”
“You don’t have a Good number,” Chris said.
“Meaning what?” I asked.
“That shouldn’t be possible,” the detective pointed out. “Everyone, everything has a Good number.”
“Is it illegal to have no Good number?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “Because that shouldn't be possible. Everyone is registered by Annie into the System, even unconnectables like you.”
“Maybe someone hacked my ID?” I suggested, contemplating his words.
“Perhaps,” Chris shrugged, his eyes not leaving my face. “Either way I’d like to take you to the station… Infi.”
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“Infi?” I blinked.
“That’s what your ID says,” the detective pointed out. “Infi. That’s it. No Good ID number, just… Infi.”
There was something uncanny valley about the detective, something that didn’t sit right with me. All of my distinctive souls agreed, going to the station with the unnervingly annoying detective would not bode well for me.
“And if I don’t want to go to the station?” I raised an eyebrow, taking a defensive posture.
“I’m afraid that I must insist,” the detective pressed the matter. “The probability of you being a criminal or a victim of human trafficking is far too high. According to Annie, it’s simply not possible to not have a number. She’s not supposed to be wrong.”
“Who’s Annie?” I asked.
“Annet,” Chris said, his voice unnervingly calm. “Eureka’s Artificial Intelligence Search Engine. The fact that you do not know this is only increasing my suspicions that you either scrubbed your number and memory somehow or are a victim of a crime. I’m not going to drop this matter, I’m afraid. Please come with me.”
I pursed my lips.
“You aren’t human,” I said.
“No, I am not,” Chris replied. “I’m a Dex.”
“Debitor ex Machina," I uttered, recalling what Eureka called them. “An indebted human soul in the machine.”
Green eyes squinted at me.
“I’m rather curious, Detective,” I said. “What crime did you commit to incur so much debt that the city made you into her slave?”
“Such a discussion is irrelevant to this matter,” Detective Hatchenson shot back. “I serve the city to keep her citizens safe.”
“Do you like working for Eureka?” I asked.
“I like my job,” Chris nodded, reaching into his pocket.
I tensed up. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“Please do not resist,” the detective said, taking a step towards me.
“You think that I’m going to resist?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Your words, expression and posture are stating that you are going to resist, yes,” the detective said, his voice laced with robotic, inhuman calmness. “I’d rather that you didn’t. Please be advised that I am 362% faster and stronger than any human.”
“Under what grounds am I being arrested?” I demanded, my soul threads vibrating beneath my hands.
“You are under arrest under 75.53% suspicion of being a debitor,” Chris said.
“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow. “Am I now?”
“Yes,” the detective nodded. “If you are a debitor who discovered a new way to scrub your ID, you will be made into a Dex. You will love your job as much as I do.”
“And if I’m a victim?” I asked.
“Offer me your hands and I will handcuff you peacefully,” Chris said. “I will take you to the station where you will be kept in a safe room.”
“For how long?” I pressed.
“Until your identity is established by the System,” the detective replied.
"And what if the System can't ID me?" I asked.
"That's not possible," the Detective replied. "Everything has an ID. If you do not have an ID, a temporary ID will be assigned to you."
“One more question, before I submit, Detective,” I smiled back. “If the power cell of a Dex stops, do they die?”
“They do not,” Hatchenson replied. “If you are threatening me or have some way of stopping my heart-battery, know that I will be brought online by the Police Bureau in less than 404 seconds. There are millions of city cameras watching our conversation. There is nowhere to run to. Please do not resist.”
“Well, I surrender then,” I offered the detective my hands. The detective’s pale fingers snapped the handcuffs over them. Well, tried to. One of my Endy blades sliced right through the handcuffs. Magic: 1, high-tech: 0. My finger extended and pointed at the detective’s chest.
“Divide by zero,” I whispered, targeting what I hoped was his mechanical heart. The cube in his chest looked like a large box pulsating with energy in the Astral.
The man blinked as the large power module cube that I saw shimmering in his chest suddenly exploded into white silica. His body failed in an instant as I nullified his primary battery. I caught him as he fell. The poor bastard was heavy, far heavier than a human. I placed him on the bench and closed his eyes, putting the hat over his face.
“Good night, detective,” I said, activating my invisibility hex and walking away.
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