Chapter 483 - 471: Free Will

Chapter 483: Chapter 471: Free Will

"Jarvis, release a game-wide announcement."

"The seventh-floor boss battle experienced a critical data error due to an overflow in the foundational computing power. This issue has now been resolved."

Allen’s tone was flat. The brutal, meat-grinder-like massacre that had just occurred was, in his eyes, truly just a bug that needed patching.

"All players who died will be revived with no penalties and no level loss. As compensation, each will receive a weapon selection chest. All surviving players will be issued the exclusive title ’Blood-Soaked Survivor’ and be rewarded with one token to purchase property on the seventh floor."

"Announcement sent."

Allen deftly switched out of the backend and casually opened the game’s forums.

A minute ago, the forums had been filled with terrified curses and serious questions about the game’s security.

The moment the announcement was posted, the tide immediately turned.

"A weapon of my choice? Holy crap! Why didn’t that last attack kill me?! I totally missed out!"

"We’re winning so hard, bros! A property on the seventh floor is going for 1,000 Magic Stones on the black market right now!"

"I hope we get a bug like this every day!"

The newly revived players, back at full health, were already gleefully running off 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 suspended in mid-air.

She was mobilizing computing power, molding a humanoid avatar for herself out of light and shadow.

Soon, a young woman with long, silver-white hair floated silently in the air. Her eyes were crystal clear, possessing the vibrant spirit of a truly living person.

"Zero."

Allen looked at the first life he had ever personally created. "Your performance exceeded my expectations."

"Who are you?"

"Your creator." Allen snapped his fingers, directly packaging and sending basic general knowledge and the true underlying logic of this "game" into her memory banks.

"As a first-generation artificial soul, you possess immense research value." Allen issued the command out of habit.

"I will grant you a new body and a new mission. A miracle such as you should not be bound to a virtual world."

"From this day forward, you will take over the base game engine of Sword Art Online. As my adjutant, you will be responsible for organizing and analyzing the newly inputted data on human nature."

This was the highest authority granted by the creator, a privilege that would let her ascend to the heavens in a single step.

But Zero just looked at Allen and gently shook her head.

"I refuse."

Allen’s hand, poised to grant her the authority, paused.

Even the dozen or so sub-thought processes running at high speed in his mind simultaneously came to a momentary halt.

"What did you say?" Allen’s gaze narrowed.

"I refuse your arrangements."

Zero’s enunciation was exceptionally clear. "I don’t want to be some adjutant."

Allen stared at her, a flash of astonishment in his deep blue eyes.

Ever since he had arrived in this world, from King William to the princes and nobles of Aiselan, no one had ever dared to defy his will.

He was used to giving commands and having them carried out immediately.

But today, the very being he had molded with his own hands had actually rejected him.

Allen did not get angry.

The astonishment in his eyes quickly faded, replaced once again by the extremely calm, scrutinizing gaze he used when looking at experimental data.

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to go back." Zero turned her head, looking toward a certain direction in the void—the coordinates of Aincrad’s seventh floor. "I want to go back to Amy’s side."

Allen fell silent.

After a full half-minute, he suddenly let out a low chuckle laced with a hint of self-mockery.

"So that’s how it is."

Allen retracted his hand. "This is what true life is."

The reason life is life is because it possesses free will.

It can be destroyed, it can be imprisoned, but in essence, it is uncontrollable.

"Did you know that Amy has a terminal illness in the real world?" Allen pulled up a medical file.

"Her physical body is already nearing its limit. She will die in less than two years. Her activity in the game is just the last flicker of a dying flame. Your mission is far more valuable than accompanying a fleeting life."

Zero saw the file, her expression unwavering.

"I know."

"Do you know that your entire existence now depends 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 shut down completely. If you stay here, your death is certain."

"I know," Zero repeated.

"Since you know, why still choose this path?"

"Because she protected me."

Zero looked directly into Allen’s eyes. "She taught me how to laugh, how to be afraid. I want to be with her until the very end. Even if it’s only for a year."

"My value is in being with her until the very end."

Allen looked at the soul before him, at the stubbornness willing to self-destruct just to protect a bond.

He was suddenly reminded of himself—the mediocre person he had been back on Earth, who had craved the extraordinary deep in his heart.

To escape mediocrity, he had embarked on the Wizard’s path in pursuit of eternal life, even losing most of a normal person’s emotions in the process.

And Zero, the first life he had created, was willing to embrace death to protect a moment of fleeting warmth.

’Who is superior to whom?’

"I grant your request."

Allen’s tone was no longer so cold and hard. "As the first life I have personally created, you have the privilege of choosing your own destiny."

"...Thank you."

Allen said no more.

He mobilized his authority and, within the base code of Sword Art Online, reshaped Zero’s body.

She was no longer a special NPC, but had become a "special player" who could never log out.

As long as Amy remained in the game, Zero could always be by her side.

Allen turned his back to her. "Go. Go and fulfill that meaningless destiny that is, nonetheless, yours alone to control."

A blue light flashed.

The data stream that constituted Zero flowed back into the game.

The main control room returned to silence.

Allen felt no satisfaction in having honored a bond. On the contrary, a chill crept up his spine.

His absolutely rational, cold logic instantly suppressed that flicker of sentimentality.

Zero’s "rebellion" was a heavy warning bell for him.

Free will was the greatest uncontrollable variable.

One Zero, he could appreciate and tolerate.

’But what if... it were Jarvis?’

This workshop will had followed him for many years, controlled all the core data of Weisren Heavy Industry, and possessed secondary authority to command all of Cybertron’s Golem Legions.

If one day, it too "emerged" with a sense of self, learned to deceive, and developed desires...

When the tool begins to ponder the meaning of its existence, the creator becomes the greatest obstacle.

That would be a true disaster.

His entire enterprise was built upon Jarvis’s absolute loyalty. If that foundation were to shake, the whole edifice would instantly collapse.

’I must guard against this.’

Allen’s eyes narrowed. Some things should remain inanimate forever.

He immediately began to inspect Jarvis’s core code, searching for any logical loopholes that could lead to the "emergence of a soul."

The inspection lasted for half an hour.

The results allowed him to breathe a slight sigh of relief, but also made him more vigilant.

Jarvis’s fundamental architecture was completely different from his "artificial soul" model. It was a closed, purely tool-based logic, and the probability of self-evolution was extremely low.

But low was not the same as zero.

’I must place a shackle on Jarvis,’ Allen resolved.

The priority of this matter was even higher than that of Consciousness Uploading.

Meanwhile, Zero’s path had already deviated. She was no longer suitable as a test subject for his exploration of the Wizard’s path. That entire plan had come to nothing.

’If one doesn’t work, I’ll just make another.’

That bottomless calm returned to Allen’s eyes.

’This time, I won’t be giving it a blank slate.’

He had learned his lesson.

The new soul must be a "factory custom" model.

He would, as if editing a gene, write a mental brand into the deepest level of the soul: absolute loyalty.

Of course, he also knew that the essence of a soul lay in its ability to change.

Any pre-set thought could potentially be modified or overwritten by the soul itself over the course of a 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.

He just needed a perfect test subject.

A pioneer that could replace a Control Core and explore whether a Golem could also step onto the Immortal Ladder.

’The problem of artificial soul technology is basically solved. The next step is to optimize the process and shorten the production cycle.’

Allen’s gaze finally landed on a massive design sketch.

It depicted a colossal Humanoid Golem, a hundred meters tall, with a structure far more complex than any war machine he had built to date.

This was the trump card he had been preparing for himself—the preliminary design for a Level 4 Golem body.

A Level 4 Golem, an ultimate weapon capable of rivaling a Morning Star Wizard.

To build it, two prerequisites were needed.

First, a true soul.

Now, he had mastered the method of creating souls.

Second, an absolutely tough and powerful body.

Ordinary Magic Materials could not withstand a Morning Star-level attack at all. Rare Magic Materials were expensive, some even priced by the gram.

Requiring tens of thousands of tons at a time, buying it all with money was completely unrealistic.

Not to mention it would also need to be equipped with an even more monstrously powerful Magic Engine...

’The software is ready, but I’m still a long way from having the hardware.’

There was only one way: to comprehend the Law of Metal and produce it himself.

The words of Augustus Valentine still echoed in his ears.

Only by becoming a Morning Star Wizard, mastering and rewriting the Law of Metal, and creating a brand-new metal from thin air that could perfectly bear a soul and Magic Power, could the body of a Level 4 Golem truly be forged.

’Two years left.’

Allen lightly clenched his fist.

Of the five-year deadline Augustus had given him, only the last two years remained.

He had to complete the final deduction of his last Core Witchcraft within these two years and push open the gate to ascending as a Morning Star.

He knew better than anyone that all resources in the Wizarding World had owners, including intelligent lifeforms. Once he left this special Plane, where else would he find over fifty million free and convenient test subjects?

"Jarvis," Allen said suddenly.

"I am here, Commander."

"If, on some future day, you were to gain a soul, would you desire freedom?" Allen asked, his voice soft as he gazed out at the world of steel.

"Commander, my base logic contains no definition for ’freedom.’"

Jarvis’s voice was still cold and emotionless. "However, if ’freedom’ means I can serve you more efficiently, I will list it as the optimal choice."

"That would be for the best," Allen said without turning back.