Chapter 483: 471: Free Will

Chapter 483: Chapter 471: Free Will

“Jarvis, issue a game announcement.”

“The 7th Floor boss battle encountered a severe data error due to an overflow of underlying computing power. It has now been fixed.”

Allen’s tone remained flat. In his eyes, the brutal, meat-grinder-like massacre that had just occurred was truly nothing more than a bug that needed patching.

“All fallen players will receive a lossless Resurrection with no level drops and a complimentary custom weapon box. Surviving players will be awarded the out-of-print title ’Blood Battle Survivor’ and a property purchase token for the 7th Floor.

“The announcement has been sent.”

Allen skillfully switched out of the backend and casually opened the game forum. Just a minute ago, the forum had been flooded with terrified curses and severe doubts about the game’s safety. However, the moment the announcement was released, the wind shifted immediately.

“Custom weapon? Holy crap! Why didn’t that strike kill me earlier? I missed out big time!”

“We’re winning big, brothers! The properties on the 7th Floor are now being flipped for 1,000 Magic Stones a set on the black market!”

“Please let bugs like this happen every day!”

The players who had just enjoyed a full-health Resurrection were already eagerly rushing to open their compensation chests. Aside from Cole and Amy, no one cared about a strange NPC who had disappeared.

He turned his attention back to the shifting neural Rune network hovering in midair. She was mobilizing computing power to craft a humanoid avatar composed of light and shadow for herself. Soon, a young girl with long, silvery-white hair floated quietly in the air. Her eyes were crystal clear, possessing the agility and radiance of a truly living person.

“Zero.” Allen looked at the first life he had created with his own hands. “Your performance has exceeded my expectations.”

“Who are you?”

“Your creator.” Allen snapped his fingers, directly packaging basic common sense and the true underlying logic of this “game” and sending it straight into her memory bank. “As the first generation of artificial souls, you possess extremely high research value,” he continued, issuing orders out of habit.

“I will give you a brand-new vessel and mission. A miracle like you shouldn’t be confined to a virtual world.

“From today onward, you will take over the underlying game engine of Sword Art Online. As my adjutant, you will be responsible for organizing and analyzing the newly inputted human nature data.”

This was the highest authority granted by the creator, a privilege that was a direct leap to the top. Yet, Zero looked at Allen and simply shook her head gently.

“I refuse.”

Allen paused his motion of transferring the permissions. Even the dozen or so cognitive sub-threads running at high speed experienced a momentary stagnation.

“What did you say?” Allen’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“I refuse your arrangement,” Zero enunciated with extreme clarity. “I don’t want to be an adjutant.”

Allen stared at her, a flash of astonishment crossing his deep blue eyes. Ever since he had come to this world, whether it was King William or the nobles of Aiselan, no one had ever dared to defy his will. He was used to issuing commands and having them executed immediately. But today, the creation he had crafted with his own hands had actually rejected him.

He didn’t get angry. The astonishment in his eyes quickly faded, and his gaze returned to the extreme calmness and scrutiny he used when looking at experimental data.

“Why?” he asked.

“I want to go back.” Zero turned her head and looked in a certain direction in the void, which was the coordinates of Aincrad’s 7th Floor. “I want to return to Amy’s side.”

Allen fell silent. After a full half-minute, he suddenly let out a low chuckle, his smile carrying a hint of self-deprecation.

“I see.” He retracted his hand. “This is what true life is.”

The reason life was life was precisely because it possessed Freedom of will. It could be destroyed, and it could be imprisoned, but at its core, it was inherently uncontrollable.

“Do you know that Amy suffers from a terminal illness in reality?” Allen pulled up a medical file. “Her physical body is nearing its limit. In less than two years, she will die. Her activity in the game is merely a final burst of energy before the end. Your mission is far more valuable than accompanying a fleeting life.”

Zero looked at the file, her eyes showing no fluctuation. “I know.”

“Do you know that your existence right now relies entirely on Cybertron?” Allen’s tone turned cold. “Two years. In two years at most, I will leave this Plane. At that time, the game will be permanently shut down. If you stay here, you will certainly die.”

“I know,” Zero repeated once more.

“Since you know, why do you still choose this path?”

“Because she protected me.” Zero looked straight into Allen’s eyes. “She taught me how to smile and how to be afraid. I want to accompany her on her final journey. Even if it’s only for a year.

“My value is to be with her until the end.”

Allen looked at the soul before him, observing the stubbornness that would rather choose self-destruction than abandon a bond. He suddenly remembered himself—the one who had lived a mediocre life on Earth, yet deep down yearned for greatness. To escape mediocrity, he had embarked on the Wizard path in pursuit of immortality, to the point of losing most normal human emotions. Meanwhile, Zero, the first life he had ever created, was willing to embrace death to protect a brief moment of warmth.

Who was superior to whom?

“I grant your request.” Allen’s tone lost some of its harshness. “As the first life I created with my own hands, you possess the privilege to choose your own destiny.”

“…Thank you.”

Allen said no more. He utilized his authority to reconstruct a body for Zero within the underlying code of Sword Art Online. She was no longer a special NPC, but had become a “special player” who could never log off. As long as Amy was still in the game, Zero could stay by her side forever.

Allen turned his back to her. “Go. Go fulfill that meaningless destiny that belongs solely to you.”

A blue light flashed. The data stream composing Zero returned to the game. The main control room descended into silence once more.

Allen didn’t feel gratified for having fulfilled a bond. On the contrary, a trace of chill crept up his spine. The cold logic of absolute rationality instantly suppressed that sliver of sentimentality. Zero’s “rebellion” sounded a heavy alarm for him. Freedom of will was the greatest uncontrollable variable.

He could appreciate and tolerate a single Zero. But what if… it were Jarvis? The workshop consciousness that had followed him for years, controlled all the core data of Wesren Heavy Industry, and possessed the secondary authority to command the entire Golem Legion in Cybertron. What if one day, it also “emerged” with a sense of self, learned how to deceive, and harbored desires?

When a tool began to ponder the meaning of its existence, the creator would become its greatest obstacle. That would be a true disaster.

Everything he had was built upon Jarvis’s absolute loyalty. If this foundation were ever shaken, the entire edifice would collapse in an instant.

“I must take precautions.” Allen narrowed his eyes slightly. Some things were meant to remain inanimate forever.

He immediately began inspecting Jarvis’s core code, searching for any logical loopholes that might lead to “soul emergence.” The inspection lasted for half an hour. The results made him breathe a slight sigh of relief, yet he grew even more vigilant. Jarvis’s underlying architecture was entirely different from his “artificial soul” model; it operated on closed, purely utilitarian logic. The probability of self-evolution was extremely low.

However, low didn’t mean impossible.

“I must place shackles on Jarvis,” Allen resolved. The priority of this matter even superseded [Consciousness Upload]. Meanwhile, Zero’s path had already deviated, rendering her unsuitable to serve as his test subject for exploring the Wizard path. This particular plan had fallen through.

“If one fails, then I’ll just create another.” Allen’s eyes regained that bottomless calmness. “This time, I will not provide a blank slate.”

He had learned his lesson. The newly created soul had to be a “custom factory edition.” Just like editing genes, he would imprint a mental seal into the deepest layer of the soul—absolute loyalty.

Of course, he also knew that the essence of a soul lay in change. Any pre-programmed thoughts could potentially be modified or overwritten by the soul itself during its long evolution. But this would at least ensure that, for a very long time, this new soul would grow along the trajectory he had set for it. He only needed a perfect experimental subject. A pioneer that could replace the Control Core to explore whether a Golem could also step onto the Immortal Ladder.

“The issue with the artificial soul technology has basically been resolved. The next step is to optimize the process and compress the production cycle.”

Allen’s gaze eventually landed on a massive design blueprint. It depicted a giant Humanoid Golem over a hundred meters tall. Its complexity far exceeded any war machine he had manufactured thus far. This was the trump card he had been accumulating for himself—the preliminary plan for a Level 4 Golem body.

A Level 4 Golem was an ultimate weapon capable of rivaling a Morning Star Wizard. To build it, two prerequisites were required. The first was a true soul, and now, he had mastered the method of creating one. The second was an absolutely formidable and powerful body.

Ordinary Magic Materials could not withstand Dawn Star Level attacks, while rare Magic Materials were prohibitively expensive, some even priced by the gram. With consumption easily reaching tens of thousands of tons, buying them with money was completely unrealistic. Not to mention, it also required an even more monstrously powerful Magic Engine to drive it…

“The software is up to speed, but we’re still far from gathering all the hardware.” There was only one way: to validate the Metal Law and produce the materials himself.

Augustus Valentine’s words still echoed in his ears. Only by becoming a Morning Star Wizard, mastering and rewriting the Metal Law to fabricate a brand-new metal out of thin air that could perfectly bear both a soul and Magic Power, could the Forging of a Level 4 Golem’s body be truly realized.

“Two years left.” Allen gently clenched his fists.

Of the five-year deadline given by Augustus, only the final two years remained. He had to complete the deduction of his final Core Witchcraft within these two years to push open the door to advancing to Morning Star. He knew better than anyone that all resources in the Wizarding World had owners, intelligent creatures included. Once he left this special Plane, where would he find over fifty million free and highly effective test subjects?

“Jarvis,” Allen suddenly spoke.

“I am here, Commander.”

“If, one day in the future, you acquire a soul, would you want Freedom?” Allen looked at the world of steel outside, his voice faint.

“Commander, there is no definition of ’Freedom’ in my underlying logic.” Jarvis’s voice remained cold and uninflected. “But if ’Freedom’ means I can serve you more efficiently, I will prioritize it as the optimal choice.”

“That would be best.” Allen did not look back.