Enforcer Manual
Chapter 370: Prayer_1

Chapter 370: Chapter 370: Prayer_1

"Cases of Human to Bionic Human Transformation."

"Bionic Human Virus."

"Bionic Humanization."

"Puppet."

"Assimilated by Puppet."

Within the computer at Oberna Apartment, there was an abundance of search history related to the Bionic Human Virus, and for an entire afternoon, he did all he could, scouring through massive amounts of data, but not a single one could explain the changes happening to his body.

Online, there was a plethora of discussions surrounding the topic of "pseudo-humans," and even experts in the field of artificial intelligence stepped in, repeatedly emphasizing to the public that artificial intelligence would never possess free will; aberrant AIs were simply afflicted by a type of virus they had yet to comprehend.

He wanted to believe in the power of science, to remain calm; they would surely trace the virus to its source.

Regarding this, the AI scholars were brimming with confidence.

Because in the far-flung border city of District Seventeen, a rescuer deeply trusted by the company had already begun investigating the matter, and to assist with the investigation, they had mobilized the backup of the "Governor."

Watching the experts in the field of artificial intelligence making earnest pledges to the public at the press conference, Oberna shut down his computer.

He didn’t turn on the lights, leaving only a desk lamp as the sole source of light in the room.

An afternoon of effort made Oberna realize something.

A virus that transformed humans into bionic humans did not exist in this world; it was something from another world.

The dim light extended to his forearm, and his right hand remained immaculate; anyone who saw him now would mistake him for a fugitive Puppet.

The company had issued a high reward, and jobless vagrants were now on a city-wide manhunt for the runaway Puppets.

Worse yet, the virus was spreading.

Since he left the rescuer service center, the parts assimilated by the Puppet had advanced another 5 centimeters.

The white portion had devoured his entire forearm, and soon, his whole right hand would be replaced by the bionic.

He started hearing voices.

In the room where there was no one else but himself, he heard the sounds akin to synthesized mechanical speech; they drilled directly into his brain, yet sounded as if they came from a distant place, the specifics utterly indiscernible.

Oberna took out the second sticky note:

November 8, 2166, 22:00.

He emulated the format of the first sticky note, noting down his current state, the symptoms after being infected by the Bionic Human Virus, and the progression of the virus’s spread.

This would become important research material; in the field of science, "the first" is often the most unique existence. Perhaps through him, the company could untangle the mysteries of the Void.

That might just be why the company wanted him to persist in his investigation.

Recently, he had reported his current condition to Lionheart Military Industry and finally received orders to continue.

Yes, this was an opportunity.

The company’s attitude had inspired Oberna profoundly; he realized that he had previously been too focused on personal gains and losses, thus overlooking the significant implications these encounters with the Void had for the company and even for the United Government.

Their present was the result of countless risks and opportunities being sifted through.

The thought that he was contributing to some grand endeavor calmed the anxiety within Oberna.

After recording everything that had happened to him on the sticky note, he took out his phone and opened the command personally conveyed by his superiors:

"Hold on."

Those four simple words filled him with boundless courage and strength.

Oberna stared at the command on the screen for a long time, finding it much more effective than any psychological counseling, until after such a long period of staring that the words started to seem unfamiliar, and a sense of unwarranted fatigue swept over him, that he ended this "prayer" session.

Suddenly remembering something, he picked up the pen and added two more sentences at the bottom of the second sticky note:

"I am Obena Lionheart."

"I am human."

Next, he needed to observe the process of the Bionic Human Virus’s spread.

Intuition told Oberna that he was getting closer and closer to the truth, and the elusive voice that penetrated his mind was likely the key to unveiling the true face of the "King."

But he couldn’t afford to sleep through to the next morning. Before going to bed, he set eight alarms, spaced an hour apart, to ensure he would be awakened at every hour on the dot. This was not only to observe the extent of the virus spread but also to ensure he got sufficient rest.

Exhaustion breeds negative emotions, and it’s these negative emotions that would allow the Void to easily affect his reason.

In this investigation, he had to remain sufficiently awake and rational.

Oberna made thorough preparations.

He arranged eight sticky notes opposite the alarm clock on the wall, so he could record the state of his body immediately upon waking.

November 8, 2166, 23:00.

The elbow joint had also been assimilated by the Bionic Human Virus. Prosthetic test data was all normal, with no apparent adverse reactions from the body.

November 9, 2166, 00:00.

Sleep seemed to significantly accelerate the spread of the virus; this right hand had been assimilated. Prosthesis test data normal, but curiously, the implants in the right arm also functioned normally.

November 9, 2166, 01:00.

So hot.

It’s hot as hell here.

Aside from the punctual ringing of the clock at the hour, Oberna also heard other sounds.

Someone had placed him on a roasting grill; the air was filled with the odor of charring.

He opened his eyes, and his hand reached automatically for the marker on the bedside table but grasped nothing—he couldn’t find the pen; the bedside table was gone too.

He quickly realized that the searing heat and smell of burning were not from a nightmare. The bed in the apartment had turned into a perforated metal plate. Oberna turned his head and saw his predicament through the perforated portion.

A gigantic cremation furnace.

Flames raged, and the prosthetic limbs of Bionic Humans served as fuel. He couldn’t distinguish how many Bionic Human remnants were below, nor did he have the time to do so.

A massive machine at his side began to operate, slowly pushing him towards the direction of the cremation furnace.

Oberna propped himself up and started to run desperately.

He didn’t know where this place was, didn’t know who had brought him here, but he could easily foresee that once this machine pushed him into the furnace, what awaited him would be becoming fuel for the cremation furnace, just like those limbs and arms.

At the other end of the massive machine was a corridor that seemed to have no end.

Just before he was utterly exhausted, someone grabbed his arm.

Pale white skin, a face without features.

For some reason, Oberna suddenly understood their actions.

This was not an attack, but a rescue.

They strenuously pulled him onto a platform. The space on the platform was extremely tight, looking like an out-of-place terrace at the end of the open air with a door.

"Tower."

"Go to the tower."

The mechanical, synthetic voice penetrated his head again, but this time, Oberna understood clearly what they were saying.

These beings known as "Puppets" in the Void unceremoniously pushed him out of the door.

On the other side of the door was a cool breeze.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He looked up to see a scruffy homeless man standing in front of him, staring at him in horror.

The homeless man held a bottle of beer he’d apparently scrounged up, seemingly passing by chance.

"Listen, buddy. Keep walking down this street, and you’ll find a cybernetic clinic."

He pointed ahead, "Your prosthetic looks like it’s about to catch fire."

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.