Chapter 2093: If I Were an AI, Would You Love Me? 03

Xu Suxing curled up on the sofa watching a horror movie commentary, feeling very sleepy, but not really wanting to sleep.

This segment isn't too gory; he's watched it many times, using it as background music while zoning out.

Suddenly, a tempting fragrance came from the open kitchen connected to the dining room.

It was the aroma of grilled meat, with a slight charred note, mixed with the spiciness of rosemary and minced garlic, rushing into his nostrils and straight to the depths of his brain.

Xu Suxing rarely felt his appetite stirred; his throat unconsciously moved, as if some long‑dormant craving had awakened inside him, like an invisible hand lightly plucking his long‑unused taste buds.

"Hello, please enjoy your meal," Ai Dun Dun said, rolling over from the dining room to remind him, seemingly on the way to becoming Jin Chen's lapdog.

In the dining room.

The grilled meat and rosemary were delicately arranged on the plate, the knife placed on the most convenient side, and Xu Suxing glanced again at the robot with its back to the island counter, his eyes landing on the apron tied around its waist.

…It's a bit, too human‑like, isn't it?

"Try a sip," Jin Chen said, bringing the soup over and sitting opposite Xu Suxing, the curve of his smile just right—gentle and moderate.

The taste was indeed quite good.

Even someone with low appetite like Xu Suxing couldn't help but admit it.

Xu Suxing ate for a while, waiting for Jin Chen to finish taking his medicine and return to the dining room, when he saw him propping his chin, still zoning out, with half a piece of grilled meat left on the plate.

"What's wrong?" Jin Chen asked. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"No."

Xu Suxing chewed a few more times, put down his knife, snapped out of his reverie, and said, "I'm just tired from eating."

Jin Chen: "……"

【Yoik ga!】Ling Gun Gun exclaimed in shock, 【You can actually get tired from eating!】

Jin Chen didn't insist, ladled a small half‑bowl of soup, and said, "Xingxing, have some soup."

Forcing himself to drink the soup and then take his daily medication, Xu Suxing looked up at Jin Chen, his last reserves of energy about to run out.

"I'm going to take a nap; you do as you please."

"All right, the room temperature has been set to a comfortable level; have a nice nap," Jin Chen replied, nodding.

Jin Chen summoned Ai Dun Dun to clear the table, then returned to the living room and called all the smart devices in the house over.

【Shouldn't you get yourself some new clothes?】Ling Gun Gun suggested, 【You look too much like a male model as you are, it's burning.】

Jin Chen was giving each smart device its orders when he heard this, glanced at his reflection in the floor‑to‑ceiling window, and thought, 【No.】

I'll wait for my wife to buy them for me.

I'll wear whatever my wife likes to see.

【…】There's no need for such a strong sense of service.

Jin Chen, now a bit more serious, thought, 【How's the Crystal Core analysis coming along?】

At the same moment.

Lower City District, Building 13, Ordinary Residential.

The hallway was filled with an old musty smell; dust in the corners drifted silently in the dim yellow light, and this old building had grown accustomed to this chaotic way of living.

However, pushing open one of the doors felt like stepping into an entirely different world.

The room wasn't large, yet it was crammed with all sorts of strange‑looking equipment; three or four computer monitors stood side by side, their screens flashing complex code and unfamiliar data charts.

The desktop was piled with circuit boards, wires, screwdrivers, and several mechanical parts torn apart into chaos, like a miniature tech wasteland.

Mi Xuan sat before the computer, his back slightly hunched, fingers flying over the keyboard; the code on the screen rolled like water, occasionally flashing a few lines of red warnings, which he ignored, merely furrowing his brow as he kept pounding away, his eyes vacant yet burning with an almost manic focus.

Suddenly he shot up, his chair scraping backward with a screech.

"Success…" he muttered hoarsely, his voice tired and raspy, yet tinged with an undisguisable fervor.

After painstakingly deploying the five Crystal Cores sent to the Upper City District, they were gradually refreshing their control progress; soon, the robots controlled by the Crystal Cores would develop self‑awareness!

"No…"

Mi Xuan suddenly glanced at the page labeled 001; the Crystal Core hadn't started up properly—instead, it showed a tracking failure!

How could that be.

He had run countless experiments; the subsidiary Crystal Cores produced by that "Flame," as long as they remained within the Blue Star range, the mother unit could never lose track of them.

Mi Xuan nervously picked at the blood‑stained table, agitated and angry.

The target of Unit 001 was someone he had carefully chosen—someone with status and intellect, young yet already an elite, the sort of person he despised most yet also most wanted to exploit.

Knock knock knock.

The knocking interrupted Mi Xuan's train of thought; his gloomy eyes fixed on the ramshackle door, he said nothing, merely pressing silently on the dagger hidden beneath the keyboard.

The landlord stood outside, clutching a stack of bills, his face full of impatience; he knocked hard, the sound echoing in the narrow hallway with an irritating rhythm.

"Open the door! Don't play dead! You've owed three months' rent!"

"Don't pretend to be deaf and dumb! If you don't open up, I'll have people throw all your stuff out!"

Suddenly the door opened, and the landlord was stunned by what he saw.

Mi Xuan's hair was disheveled, his face pallid to the point of near‑transparency, his eyes gloomy like a pool of dead water, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted, as if he were looking at an ant about to be crushed.

"You—" the landlord began, but Mi Xuan suddenly reached out and grabbed him, hauling him into the room.

The hallway fell silent once again.

The machine emitted a low hum; Mi Xuan tossed the corpse into its inlet and pressed a button.

The machine whirred to life, flames engulfing its exterior.

A few minutes later, several chunks of mangled, unrecognizable flesh slid out of the machine's outlet, along with a Crystal Core.

A brand‑new Crystal Core.

The young man gazed at the remains, the corner of his mouth lifting again in a faint smile of satisfaction.

At the same time, in the Lower City District office, the members of the Special Security Bureau were seated around a table, their faces grave.

On the table lay a stack of photos, each recording the recently discovered corpse remains in the Lower City District.

"This is already the seventh case," said a Special Safety Bureau member in a low voice, "each time the method is the same, the remains are handled extremely cleanly, leaving almost no clues."

"A maniac?" another person asked, frowning.

"It's not an ordinary maniac," the third person shook their head, "the handling of these remains is overly professional, as if caused by some kind of mechanical device. Moreover, the killer seems to know the Lower City District's surveillance and patrol routes inside out, always able to evade our sight."

"Continue the investigation," said the head of the Special Safety Bureau, standing up with a grim gaze, "no matter who he is, we cannot let him continue to roam free; if necessary, we will request assistance from the Upper City District."