SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Time goes back a day.

While the doctor performing the operation was sternly announcing the instructions, Moskevich, who was lying on the bed, was still thinking about Steven's expression before he left.He had only two impressions of what the doctor had said: that the doctor's accent sounded Indian, and that the description must have been altered from a random template.

The implant was performed using local anesthesia, but Moskevich's constitution appears to be sensitive to such drugs.Although only a small part of his body was unconscious, his brain felt overwhelmingly tired, and he was only one step away from falling asleep during the operation.Maynard and a few other people he didn't know stood by the hospital bed, watching with cold eyes the small GPS tracker buried in Moskevich's body.

While waiting for the effect of the medicine to pass after the operation, Moskevich became more sober.Maynard asked the others to leave the room, and was alone with Moskevich, chatting about something relevant or not.

"This is an experimental product from Sotopia, chosen because of confidentiality concerns," Maynard said. "The craftsmanship of their R&D department is fairly sophisticated, but the cost is too high."

Lying on his back, Moskevich turned his head to look at him, then turned back to look at the lamp on the ceiling. "It turns out you're working together again—and even deeper than before."

Maynard nodded and admitted the matter: "What I told Steven before is also true. As for how he understands it, that has nothing to do with me."

Moskevich knew he was referring to the repeal of Agreement 23.Interestingly, the two of them had never had such a harmonious conversation, which made Moskevich suddenly feel that Maynard was not as bad as he had imagined before.They may have many similarities - except that they are both men.

"Maynard."

"Ok?"

"You're easier to get along with than I thought."

Maynard laughed at himself: "I really don't know what kind of definition you mean by 'easy to get along with'. Who do I have to compare with before you can draw such a conclusion."

The current situation is not suitable for smoking, so Maynard had to pick up a glass of water to distract himself.There was a long-lost gentle expression on his face: "I still want to ask you. Two years ago, you almost held Steven hostage—don't look at me with that look, in fact, I already knew about it. To tell you the truth, you wouldn't do this for his and Caroline's safety. None of our plans at the moment include your final outcome. In other words, you may live or die after this is over; You can reject us, at least you can live a stable life with them for a few more days."

Moskevich shook his head: "I can only think of this option. He has left the FBI, left the job dealing with Sotopia, but has taken the risk several times to prevent the opposition from attacking. From the past to the present, I have nothing. If not Sacrifice to this point, then there is nothing to repay him for everything he has done for me."

"Moskevich," Maynard expressed his respect frankly, "I must admit that I admire you. It seems that ordinary life has not weakened you."

Moskevich, who was praised, smiled wryly and waved his hands: "No, I'm still weaker than before—even my thinking ability has degraded a lot, otherwise I wouldn't use this negative way of self-sacrifice to reach a low standard. As a result, I have to make sure that Steven and Caroline don't get noticed, and I have to be careful not to look too abnormal, you see, how timid I am."

Maynard smiled apologetically, and asked: "Which set of principles did you follow in this decision? There must be a basis for reference."

"They are my principles."

"Have you said these words to Steven?" Maynard's tone was somewhat teasing.

Moskevich laughed at himself: "How is it possible, it's strange to say such a thing suddenly."

Maynard spread his hands, noncommittal.He stood up and was about to say a few more words before leaving: "Nevertheless, you still have to stay with Steven until Alexander and the others do it. Deliberate separation will make this trap too obvious." He knocked on the shelf The mobile phone on the low cabinet reminded again: "Please pay attention to the information we provide at any time. Once the signal arrives, you will know what to do."

— who said I knew what to do.What's more, understanding and willingness are two different things.

After putting down his clothes and tidying them up, Moskevich stood up.He walked to the open door of Steven's room, hesitated for a while, and finally walked in.

He sat sideways on the edge of the bed, propped his hands on the bed, and looked down at the man who was catching up on his sleep with his eyes closed.

It would be great if it wasn't Steven who was forced by his boss to come to see him.

A strange throbbing drove Moskevich to bend his elbows, lowered his upper body, and moved closer to Steven's face, his hair hanging down almost to his ears.Moskevich swore that he never intended to give Steven a romantic kiss while he was still asleep, but suddenly wanted to change his way of observing.

And Steven had already wrapped his arms around his waist - the man lying on the bed didn't even open his eyes.

Steven tugged Moskevich's forearm lightly, and Moskevich lost his balance and fell on top of him. "What are you doing?" Steven still closed his eyes, a tired voice sounded in Moskevich's ears, and the breath sprayed on the skin, arousing some warm itching.

——The nasal sound is very heavy, it must be a cold.thought Moskevich.

Moskevich didn't move, just lying on Steven's body, with his head resting on Steven's heart through the quilt.The beating of life has never been so vivid and meaningful.Moskevich didn't answer Steven's question, but suddenly asked another unrelated matter: "You said before that you will go to the coast for vacation until spring. Does this plan still count?"

Steven was stunned for a moment, not quite understanding why Moskevich suddenly asked about it, but he answered him honestly: "Of course it counts. If you don't mind, I would like to stay a little longer—just to let Carlo Lin learned to swim. But before that, we have another place to go."

"where to?"

"Houston. Higgins asked me to do something there, and the fee was quite high. We could drop Caroline off to my parents' house for a while, and recently she suddenly began to miss life there. ’ Steven laughed, as if nothing had ever happened between them.

"...Ah, that's really far away." Moskevich perfunctory, still feeling a little uneasy. "Don't you ask me what happened a few days ago?"

He was answered by a short silence.

Steven sighed and said, "I don't think you'd want to tell me."

— Well, it is true.

They are always tacit in strange places, and this tacit understanding often brings unavoidable harm.Although they are used to it.

Houston is indeed a bustling big city.Except for the still hot climate in winter, Moskevich has nothing particularly dissatisfied.

Higgins made Steven's errands easy and safe, almost graciously giving away a vacation—although Steven thought a national park would be more appropriate.He led Moskevich to live in an ordinary hotel with a decent environment. Since he completed the small task of finding "old friends" for Higgins, he has basically not done anything serious.For example, the two of you walked aimlessly along the railway line for several hours, sat on a park bench for an entire afternoon, or walked through the noisy business district at midnight, and randomly picked a bar with a bad business and the lowest points wine.

When they got back to their hotel room, they would always get emails from the Krebs with their photos of Caroline.In that empty manor, there are pastures, horses, straw sombreros and beautiful sunsets.Steven said that the old Krebs treated Caroline much more tenderly than he and his brother, and had already regarded her as his granddaughter.

Moskevich almost forgot what Maynard had said—but every time he saw the changing numbers on the calendar, the uneasiness and anxiety returned.

And when he picked up the phone and heard Maynard's calm and deep voice, an unprecedented fear instantly engulfed him.

"They've reached Houston." Maynard knew that was all he needed to say.

Moskevich clenched the phone tightly, and answered in a dry and hoarse voice: "I see." He hung up the phone and looked up at the morning sun outside the window.The traffic is busy, and the high-rise buildings are surrounded by rushing money and desire; Steven is busy making breakfast in the kitchen, and Moskevich can faintly smell the aroma of fried eggs.

Maynard may know the specific situation of Alexander's intelligence network in the United States, and he has also predicted what will happen-to be precise, he has reached a consensus with his former opponents and carefully weaved the cleaning plan they expected.If all goes well, Moskevich will be taken away by Alexander, and the GPS chip in his body will lead the defenders of the homeland to the base camp of these terrorist organizations, even if it is only a temporary habitat.

As for the development after that, it is not something Moskevich wants to know.

But there was only one thing he couldn't turn a blind eye to: Steven was still here.

As long as this man is still alive, it is impossible for Moskevich to go to death recklessly; it is also because this man is still alive, even if the desire to survive is terrifyingly strong, Moskevich cannot let the other party fall into crisis because of himself.

He wanted to find a reason that could be perfectly explained to outsiders to dismiss Steven, as arranged by Maynard's plan, to leave enough opportunities for Alexander and the others to move.However, this does not seem to be easy.

There is a total of 15 meters from where Moskevich is standing to the door of the hotel room. The kitchen where Steven is located is on the side of this road that must be passed.It was impossible to go straight out without Steven—Steven would not let him suddenly go out alone for no reason, and Moskevich couldn't beat Steven if he did it.

Moskevich put on his coat and put his hands in his pockets—only in this way could he perfectly put on an expression of nothing, concealing the uncontrollable trembling of his fingertips.

"Steven, I want to go for a walk." Just like every ordinary morning with the sound of birds chirping and the sound of toasters, Moskevich said, trying to make himself look as normal as he used to go out to walk the dog to breathe— And it looks like it does.

But he underestimated Steven's intuition.

Perhaps the sense of crisis is a subconscious experience that can spread, and Steven suddenly had an ominous premonition.He stepped out, just in time to meet Moskevich who was about to go out.

Steven's smile was natural, which made Moskevich feel a little uncomfortable.

"Are you planning to go out alone?" Steven didn't stop him roughly—it was the same in the past.

Moskevich nodded, looking normal: "I just want to go to a nearby bookstore." This excuse should not be a big problem, he thought.

Steven looked at the other party suspiciously, and seemingly casually reached out and grabbed Moskevich's forearm.

"Eat breakfast first," Steven said. "I'll go with you later."