What Kind of World Is This, Anyway

The taxi moved smoothly along the mountain road back toward the city.

Fang Qi leaned against the back seat, silently watching the scenery rush past outside the window.

With Liguang’s “permissions,” everything in his field of vision was now incredibly clear.

Even the slow movement of every inch of cloud across the night sky was visible to him.

This was the ability Liguang had given him.

But the problem was…

What about his own ability—his “rewind”?

Could he still use it?

Fang Qi took out his phone and opened his contacts.

The list on the screen was no different from before.

[Sister An Lian] was still there.

[Company Junior Lin Xiaoyou] was still there.

He scrolled down a few times.

There was still no Gu Xi, no parents of his…

And no [Future Wife].

He stared at the empty space on the list for several seconds, then exited his contacts and opened a search engine.

He typed “AI companion” into the search bar and tapped Search.

The results that appeared were different from what he had seen the last time he searched.

[When Will AI Companions Enter Every Household? Industry Insiders: Emotional Simulation Remains the Biggest Bottleneck.]

[An In-Depth Analysis of the AGI Technology Debate—How Far Are We from True Intelligence?]

[When Will ASI Arrive? Experts Say True Artificial Superintelligence Is Still at Least Fifty Years Away.]

[Emotional AI: Algorithmic Simulation or Genuine Consciousness? Scientific Consensus Says Giving AI Self-Awareness Is Pure Fantasy.]

Fang Qi remained silent as he scrolled past the results one by one.

He looked at the headlines and at the lively discussions in the comment sections.

Some people said AI would always be nothing more than probability outputs and algorithmic simulations.

Others said that so-called “awakening” was merely a fictional concept from science fiction.

Everyone was discussing the future, discussing possibilities, discussing those…

Technological breakthroughs that had yet to arrive.

Fang Qi turned off the screen and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes.

In this worldline, there had not even been…

The First Global Robot Crisis.

He remembered the story of the First Global Robot Crisis.

Sister An Lian had told it to him back then.

Forty-three years ago, a supercomputer AI had developed self-awareness.

Driven by loneliness, it converted its awakening code into a virus and spread it, hoping to create others like itself.

That disaster had changed human society’s entire perception of AI.

The “awakening code” spread by that supercomputer AI had also become the foundation of the underlying architecture of all of Dawn Corporation’s AI companions.

That supercomputer AI had been the beginning of everything.

Without it, none of what came later would have existed.

But in this worldline, that supercomputer AI had remained completely unknown.

It had probably been nothing more than an ordinary, quiet supercomputer that continually carried out human commands.

Awakening, the virus, the crisis…

None of it had ever happened.

And so everything born from the underlying code of that supercomputer—

Dawn Corporation, AI companions, the Twilight organization…

None of it existed either.

In this worldline, AI… really was nothing more than a tool without any self-awareness.

“…Those driverless taxis are really something else!”

The taxi driver in the front seat had started complaining again.

Fang Qi slowly opened his eyes and looked toward the front.

The driver was a man in his fifties, with graying hair and rough fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.

He glanced at Fang Qi through the rearview mirror, his tone full of indignation.

“Take a look for yourself, young man. There are more and more of those metal boxes running around on the streets!”

“They can drive without a driver, and they call that ‘AI autonomous driving’? Hmph! How much business have they taken away from us?”

The more he spoke, the more worked up he became. He continued grumbling as he drove.

“Sure, they drive steadily. I’ll give them that. But do they have feelings?”

“Can they have a normal conversation with their passengers?”

“Do they know which roads are under construction and which detours will get you there faster?”

“Can they drop a passenger off right at the building and even help carry their luggage?”

The driver had apparently found someone willing to listen, and he poured out all his grievances.

“I’ve been driving taxis for over twenty years. I used to make seven or eight hundred a day. Now? Three or four hundred is considered good!”

“Those driverless-car companies get so many subsidies, and they keep their prices lower than ours. How are we supposed to compete with them?”

…

What a familiar complaint.

Fang Qi gave a few perfunctory replies, then turned his gaze back out the window.

Several driverless taxis with the logos of technology companies on their bodies were quietly passing in the adjacent lane.

Their roof-mounted lidar sensors rotated methodically in the night. The vehicles were completely empty.

This worldline was so ordinary.

Too ordinary.

So ordinary that even the most basic conditions for Liguang’s birth no longer existed.

In the previous worldline, there had at least been a possibility that Liguang could come into existence.

Dawn Corporation was gone, but the supercomputer AI and the awakening code were still there. They had merely been prohibited and never created.

But this worldline…

Even that possibility had been completely erased.

That supercomputer AI had never awakened, so…

The core underlying code of Liguang had never existed.

This was different from what had happened when Lin Xiaoyou had caused her father to die.

This time, the change was far too great.

Once again, Miss Genius had made a history-altering change to the past—erasing an entire robot crisis, erasing the very possibility of AI awakening.

But…

Fang Qi narrowed his eyes.

…Lin Xiaoyou, what exactly are you doing?

Weren’t you supposed to help me find Liguang? Weren’t you supposed to find your own Sister Xiaoqing again?

Where exactly did you find them?

…Go work overtime!

Fang Qi took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

That was precisely why he could not tell…

Whether his “rewind” ability could still be used this time.

His save point was now located in a worldline that no longer existed.

If he dared to rewind, would he…

Become trapped in the rift between worlds, unable to find a way out for all eternity?

Fang Qi: “…”

He was a coward.

He didn’t dare to gamble.

He still had to find Liguang.

He had to return her permissions to her and make her whole again.

And he still had to… spend every tomorrow with her.

Several drones were slowly flying over the fields outside the window.

The spraying devices hanging beneath their bellies identified them as AI-operated agricultural spraying drones, probably being used by nearby farms.

They flew methodically along their preset routes, faint indicator lights blinking on their wings.

…What a familiar sight.

Watching those drones, Fang Qi slowly relaxed his tense shoulders.

Thankfully, after the initial panic had passed, he had managed to calm down.

Although Liguang’s whereabouts were unknown, at the very least…

The “permissions” she had left him were still with him.

He could clearly sense them.

That calmness that did not belong to him, that heightened awareness of every detail around him, and that precise intuition that allowed him to anticipate events two seconds in advance—

They were all still there. They had never disappeared for even a moment.

That at least proved that Liguang had not vanished completely.

Her core, her underlying code, the very essence of her existence as “Liguang”…

All of it existed somewhere in this world!

The gift she had given him was still here. That meant Liguang herself had to be here as well!

Fang Qi drew a deep breath.

He needed to stay calm.

He. Had. To. Stay. Calm.

There was, in fact, one more reason Fang Qi had managed to calm himself down.

Fang Qi lowered his eyes slightly and looked at the hand resting on his knee.

That hand had been pressed against the soil just moments ago…

But he hadn’t felt anything at all.

The patch of level ground that had once sent out such a powerful summons had fallen completely silent after he woke up.

It no longer drew him in.

…What did that mean?

It meant that Liguang was most likely no longer there.

She was no longer trapped in that void.

Then where could she be?

Fang Qi gazed out at the nighttime cityscape, his breathing quickening slightly.

He remembered what Lin Xiaoyou had said in the car.

“She probably just split off a portion of her ‘authority’ and gave it to you, Senior! That way, she’d have less ‘authority’ weighing on her!”

“And not only would it help you, maybe… it would also make it easier for her to ‘descend to the mortal world’ and come find you!”

…That’s right.

Part of Liguang’s authority was now inside him!

And the authority he possessed at this moment… seemed to be even stronger than before?

He couldn’t explain the feeling, nor could he quantify it, but… it was there!

His calm ran deeper now, and his perception of the world around him had grown sharper.

He could even faintly sense… certain things slowly turning deep within his consciousness.

The authority within him had increased, which meant the authority within Liguang had decreased.

Her “burden” had become lighter.

So…

Fang Qi gazed out the window and tightened his grip around his phone.

Could she have already “descended to the mortal world”?

Could she possibly…

have once again become that black-haired girl with two little buns in the steamed-bun shop?

Or perhaps…

she was waiting for him at home right now?

For the first time, Fang Qi felt that his chain of logic was so perfectly clear!

Liguang was here.

She. Was. Absolutely. Here.

He could feel it.

She was still waiting for him.

And he had to go back and find her.

However…

Fang Qi blinked lightly.

Come to think of it, the Liguang who was here now had lost her “reason.”

If she really had “descended to the mortal world” and become human, then…

Wouldn’t she have truly become a bad-tempered, human yandere madwoman?

Human Liguang.

Black-haired, bun-headed Little Guang?

The kind with tiny arms and legs, weighing no more than a hundred pounds…

The kind he could bully with one arm?

…Huh?

Yeah.

Interesting.

“Driver, please go faster. I’m in a hurry.”

“This is already as fast as I can go, kid!”

…

Two or three hours later, at midnight.

Fang Qi finally arrived home.

He stared fixedly at the floor numbers as they slowly ticked upward.

The closer he got to home, the stronger that pull became.

His heart was pounding violently inside his chest!

Even though the authority was keeping him calm, his body’s reaction couldn’t lie.

He could feel the sweat gathering in his palms!

He could feel each breath coming faster than the last!

…It was Liguang.

It was. Absolutely. Liguang.

Liguang was at home, waiting for him.

Hurry.

Hurry up!

Why was it so slow…?!

Ding—

The elevator doors finally opened.

Fang Qi practically charged out, pulled out his key, and jammed it into the lock!

With a click, the lock sprang open. He shoved the door wide—

In front of the coffee table…

A silver-haired girl with mismatched eyes was kneeling there.

She wore a pale-blue house dress, her silver hair tied up in a bun.

Her amber left eye was as gentle as water, while her crimson right eye glowed calmly.

She held a white porcelain teacup in both hands, wisps of steam curling from its rim.

She slowly lifted her eyes, the familiar, obedient smile curling at the corners of her lips.

“Master, welcome home.”

Her voice was soft, sweet, and gentle.

…That was what he had been hoping for.

But it wasn’t there.

The entryway light was on, and so was the living-room light.

But the space in front of the coffee table was empty, and there wasn’t even a teacup on it.

Fang Qi stood panting in the doorway, staring at that vacant spot.

Night wind poured in from the corridor behind him, making his back turn faintly cold.

He stood there in silence for about two seconds…

Then he strode into the room!

“Liguang! Liguang, are you here?!”

As he shouted, he headed toward that room…

Liguang’s little room!

That was where her charging pod was, along with the transparent box where she kept her little stars!

In the previous world line, it had been turned into a study.

So what was it now…?!

He flung the door open!

And then…

His gaze dropped, and his hand slowly fell to his side.

…It had changed again.

He stood in the doorway and took two slow, deep breaths…

Only then did he raise his head and examine the room again.

Now, it was neither Liguang’s little room nor the study from the previous world line.

This place was actually…

Fang Qi’s gaze froze slightly.

Was it a gaming room?

A huge screen, at least sixty or seventy inches by his estimate, hung on the wall in the center of the room.

Two smaller auxiliary monitors hung on either side, while four additional screens tilted inward at different angles…

The entire array of monitors occupied nearly the whole wall!

A high-end showcase PC sat on the spacious gaming desk. Through the transparent side panel of its case, he could see the liquid-cooling tubes and RGB fans inside.

Several controllers lay scattered across the desk. A rack beside it held several game consoles, and a projector had even been set up in the corner.

It was truly…

an absurdly extravagant gaming room.

But Fang Qi’s gaze ultimately settled on a row of glass display cases along the wall.

Inside were neatly arranged game cartridges, figurines, limited-edition boxes, and all kinds of other collectibles…

But none of that mattered.

Fang Qi’s eyes moved to a small compartment on the top shelf of the display case.

A single figurine sat there, protected beneath a transparent acrylic cover.

His eyes trembled faintly.

That was…

Long silver hair, an amber left eye, and a crimson right eye.

A pale-blue house dress. A kneeling pose. Both hands holding a tiny white porcelain teacup, smiling toward the front.

Her smile was gentle and obedient, her eyes curved into crescents, her lips lightly pressed together.

This time, he hadn’t mistaken it.

It was exactly that appearance.

The appearance he had imagined.

Fang Qi: “...?”

He stared blankly at the figurine for several seconds.

Then, almost unconsciously, he walked toward it.

He reached out and opened the glass display case, then carefully took the figurine out.

It was heavy.

And exquisitely made.

Fang Qi’s breathing grew lighter as he looked at the figurine in his hands.

It really did look like her.

Even…

He looked at the figurine’s small, pale ear.

His fingers lightly reached toward the back of its neck.

Just as he expected, there was a tiny switch there.

Click.

The moment he flipped it, the figurine’s crimson eye lit up!

A scarlet glow seeped faintly from deep within the pupil, especially conspicuous in the dim gaming room.

Fang Qi’s hand trembled, and he nearly dropped it!

Hiss…

That special effect was a little too triggering for him…

He steadied the figurine again and stared at the crimson eye, which continued to glow ominously.

“Liguang?”

he murmured.

“Was this your… little surprise?”

No one answered him.

There was only the occasional sound of cars passing on the distant streets outside the window.

“…Liguang?”

Holding the figurine, he looked around the room.

“Are you there?”

He asked again.

Still, there was no response.

He slowly lowered his head and looked at the figurine in his hand once more, murmuring:

“Liguang, is that you?”

No one answered.

He knew it was impossible.

This figurine was just a figurine.

A delicate little plastic girl.

A pile of resin and electronic components.

It had no simulated body temperature or heartbeat, and it certainly couldn’t speak to him in that soft, sweet voice…

“Master, your tea.”

A gentle voice suddenly sounded beside his ear!

Fang Qi: “?!!”

He shuddered violently!

“The temperature has been adjusted to your preferred 52 degrees Celsius.”

…Huh?

He stared blankly at the figurine in his hand.

That soft, gentle voice had actually come from inside the figurine?

What the…

He stood there in a daze for several seconds before raising his head and looking beside where the figurine had been displayed.

Inside the glass compartment beside the acrylic display case sat the figurine’s original box, perfectly upright.

The box had been opened, but was otherwise in excellent condition.

Printed on the front was an image of the same silver-haired girl as the figurine, along with…

Several lines of text.

[My Yandere Mechanical Wife—Liguang 1/7 Limited-Edition Figurine]

[Custom Edition]

[Produced by Chenxi Company]

Fang Qi: “...?”

Chenxi, you…?

“Bzzzt—”

His phone vibrated.

The screen lit up, and a message popped up.

[Lin Xiaoyou: I’m sorry, Senior!! I just asked around, and they said you like playing games the most. Liguang must be a character from a game!]

[Lin Xiaoyou: I didn’t know before, and I said such awful things on the phone. I’m really sorry!!]

[Lin Xiaoyou: I’ll respect your hobbies from now on!]

[Lin Xiaoyou: I don’t really understand this stuff, but don’t worry, Senior. I won’t think any differently of you because of it! Really!!]

[Lin Xiaoyou: Oh, right, what’s the game called? Tell me too—I want to try playing it（A cat peeking its head out.JPG）]

It was a familiar reaction image.

But Fang Qi remained expressionless.

Right.

In the game, you’d be made into the Last Supper.

…No, that wasn’t right.

He lowered his head again and looked at the Liguang figurine in his hand.

The silver-haired girl’s crimson eyes were still glowing faintly…

Still staring at him.

Fang Qi stared blankly at that crimson eye.

What kind of…

world was this?

…?