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墨書 Inktalez
Jack held a cup of coffee, gazing at the towering skyscrapers of the city, waiting for the dawn to arrive.
Today marked his last day as an agent.
After today, he would retire early.
In retirement, Jack planned to live in a wooden cabin by the seaside, gathering firewood to cook meals, fishing with a bamboo pole, and living in harmony with the sun, moon, stars, and ocean—far away from the cold, sterile technology that filled the city.
At that moment, the phone mounted on the wall rang.
Jack snapped his fingers, and the sound automatically connected the call.
An anxious voice came through the surround sound system: “Jack?”
“Oh? Are we to act as messengers for some software again? Where are your Technical Department folks?”
Hearing there was a case made Jack feel a bit excited. But then he thought about the monotonous information gathering and tedious data entry, and irritation bubbled up inside him. “I mean, why not just create a few detective robots to replace us?”
“We're already working on that. However, this news hasn't been announced yet. How did you find out?” The voice replied with surprise.
This revelation struck Jack like a bolt from the blue.
He had merely been joking and hadn’t expected to hit the mark. Realizing today was his last day before retirement, he decided to hold back his frustration.
Suppressing his anger, Jack asked, “What’s the case about?”
“Jack, you entered a request in the system that whenever a case arises where the deceased's right hand turns black, it would contact you. Right?”
“Right.” Jack sighed.
It was a case he had solved twenty years ago.
The killer had a penchant for dyeing the victim's right hand black, and he had long since apprehended the culprit.
At that time, in order to track down the suspect, he had entered a request into the globally connected system regarding the case of the victim's hand turning black.
Unexpectedly, after solving the case, he forgot to delete that request. Twenty years had passed, yet the computer still remembered.
Jack said, "That case has been solved. The killer is serving time in Antarctica, raising endangered penguins."
"Is that so? We have another case of a victim with a blackened right hand here. Would you be willing to take it on?"
"Fine. It's my last day on the job anyway. Running errands for the computer isn't a big deal," Jack shrugged helplessly.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Officer Jack. The crime scene is on the top floor of the World Trade Center. We've sent a Cucumber to pick you up."
"Alright, I'll wait here," Jack replied, already hearing the distant rumble of an engine.
The Cucumber was a type of aircraft driven by a computer. Its elongated shape resembled that of a cucumber.
"Good luck. Robot liaison 3A1904 is eager to assist you. If you are satisfied with my service, please say 'A'; if not, please..."
With a snap of his fingers, Jack turned off the phone.
After all this time, it turned out that the one notifying him to investigate was a robot, equipped with a simulated emotional system that expressed surprise in its speech, pretending to be human.
Wasn't this just blatant bullying? Jack felt quite dissatisfied with it all.
He hadn't spoken to anyone at the police station in a long time.
As deep winter approached, the cold was pervasive, but thanks to the city's heating system, the room felt as warm as spring.
Jack was dressed in a simple white T-shirt and beige casual pants. He didn't wear his uniform because he figured he would only be meeting computers later, so it wasn't necessary.
A turquoise flying vehicle hovered parallel to Jack's balcony, and a cylindrical passage slowly extended from the vehicle's body, latching onto the balcony.
Jack stepped out onto the balcony and entered the flying vehicle. Each time he boarded one of these unmanned crafts, it made him anxious. If the system malfunctioned, it could mean his life was at stake.
"Jack, please fasten your seatbelt," a monotonous voice emanated from the vehicle.
Fortunately, the vehicle's language system hadn't yet installed any tone simulation software.
The machine still sounded like a machine.
"Jack, how have you been lately?" the machine began to make small talk.
"Shut up and take off," Jack replied curtly.
He hated chatting with robots. The conversations were connected to the network. He had learned this the hard way; the more he chatted, the more information he inadvertently revealed, and before he knew it, everyone knew about it the next day, which was quite embarrassing for him.
Since that incident, Jack had avoided talking to machines.
The cucumber fell silent and headed southeast.
After about five minutes of flight, Jack realized something was off with their course.
In the city center, the Cucumber had already flown away from the city.
"Cucumber, what's going on? Where are we headed?"
"Vinan Mountain Range, Zhu Lin Peak."
"What? Aren't we going to the World Trade Center?"
"Is that so? Let me check." The Cucumber suddenly hovered in mid-air.
After a series of beeping electronic sounds, the Cucumber spoke in a flat mechanical voice, "The 3A1904 liaison officer misreported the information. We are not going to the World Trade Center; there was merely a burglary there. The homicide is at Zhu Lin Peak."
"Misreported?! Who taught you that word?" Jack was puzzled that even a robot could curse.
"This is what you inputted. I speak as you set it."
Jack chuckled, leaning back in his seat with his hands behind his head. "Then let's go to Zhu Lin Peak."
A flicker of worry crossed his mind; Zhu Lin Peak stood at an elevation of 3,421 meters, covered in snow, with outdoor temperatures below freezing. He hadn’t brought a heavy coat.
Well, he thought, I’ll just have to endure it for now.
With that in mind, his gaze fell upon the chair beneath him.
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