That being said, Azathoth didn't directly discuss the past. As he'd just said, there were things he didn't even want to know... There's an old saying, "Life is hard to be ignorant," and sometimes Azathoth held that mindset. Of course, the most important thing was his conviction that he still controlled everything, whether it was power or anything else. Even after initially losing most of his memories, the confidence bestowed by his abilities never faded.
Can procrastination still be called procrastination if you find opportunities based on your own abilities?
He thought with confidence.
This isn't procrastination, this is called being bold and skilled.
On the other hand, since she had promised Antonio, the health condition of the Consul's wife became urgent.
Therefore, facing Igor's puzzled look, the god's response was to lift the quilt on the bed and drape it over the other person.
"Go to sleep and talk about it tomorrow morning."
**
Igor closed his eyes.
He wasn't sure if he was asleep. He lay in bed as if on an ordinary night, falling into a deep sleep with a calm mind and a little insignificant doubt. He had neither good dreams nor nightmares. No one disturbed him, no strange smells, and without any signs -
He opened his eyes.
"Are you awake?" A somewhat familiar voice sounded in his ears.
It's Williams.
The man was wearing a tuxedo, and his eyes, which were always gentle and calm, looked at him with concern. "Sir, you have been unconscious for a long time. Do you remember what happened before that?"
Igor's hands touched the soft, yet unfamiliar fabric. Countless thoughts raced through his mind, but on the surface, he looked confused and nervous. "Where is this?"
"It's a small town in western Australia, near Perth." Williams uttered a place name Igor had never heard of. "I'm Williams, the butler employed by Mr. Sharp Oliver... I don't know if you've heard of him, but Mr. Oliver is the director of Newbern Company in Western Australia. So," he said, carefully studying Igor's expression, "if you're attacked by an android, you can report it to Mr. Oliver. Newbern Company has special personnel to deal with the problem of them being contaminated by the Descartes virus."
Igor had so many questions he wanted to ask, but the current situation made him cautiously keep his mouth shut and say nothing.
Williams looked somewhat helpless. He said softly, "You can completely trust us, sir. Although the spread of the virus remains unchecked, at least Newbern knows how to destroy contaminated androids. If you wish to protect your rights, please pursue legal action later."
Igor looked up and asked an irrelevant question: "Excuse me, where did you find me?"
"In a ruin that was destroyed by the androids," Williams said.
This was why he and the owner suspected Igor had been attacked by an android. Although Igor had no visible injuries, he should have been taken to a hospital while unconscious, not to Sharp Oliver's home. Williams knew, however, that his employer, even at this point, had no intention of abandoning the company. With the conflict between humans and androids deepening, Sharp didn't want to see any more uncontrolled public opinion.
So Igor is lying here now, and fortunately he doesn't look to be injured.
but……
Williams set his sights on Igor's left leg.
Igor said briefly again: "I want to see your master."
"Mr. Oliver isn't here right now," Williams replied. "He needs to go to the company to handle urgent matters. If you have any urgent matters, I can convey them to him, or I can entertain you while you wait."
Igor didn't make a decision immediately.
He began to survey his surroundings and found himself in a rather ordinary room. The white walls were decorated with some beautiful little decorations, but what disturbed him was that the writing on them was in a language Igor had never seen before. However, he and Williams had no difficulty communicating.
There was a window to the left of the bed. The room was probably on the second floor. Downstairs was a neatly maintained small garden. It was midsummer, and the plants in the garden were lush and growing. The house couldn't be very large, because Igor saw many identical two-story buildings around it. They were not far away and didn't look very valuable (compared to the mansions built by federal nobles).
"Can I get out of bed and move around for a bit?" Igor asked finally. "I'd like to wait until Mr. Oliver comes back to discuss other matters."
"Of course," Williams said immediately. "You're welcome. Anything to drink? We have tea, coffee, and juice."
"No, thank you." Igor stood up, his feet touching the ground, and as expected, he found that everything felt incredibly real. He followed William out of the room. William, perhaps to avoid embarrassing him, went into the kitchen, and they parted ways at the stairs. Igor stared at the spiral staircase in front of him, not using the handrail, and walked down step by step cautiously.
As he was about to reach the first floor, he heard the sound of wheels rolling on the carpet.
"Hello." A voice that was clearly not human and sounded like a synthetic child's robotic voice sounded, "Are you the guest Williams mentioned?"
Igor saw it before it spoke.
It was a... well, too crude a robot.
If the bionic man is like God creating humans, then the thing in front of him is like a toy given to children. It has a big head, inflexible arms, a round body and a chassis formed by four wheels. If it hadn't spoken just now, Igor would have thought it was a sweeping robot with only basic programs.
"Are you human?" the 'vacuum robot' pressed in a discordant tone. "Your body scans like a human, but you have a robotic leg. Who are you?"
"Hello..." Igor hesitated. An incredible possibility occurred to him, prompting him to speak. "My name is Igor Sullivan, and I'm a human."
"Ah!" A crude smiley face appeared on the robot's front screen. "I don't have a name. My number is very long. You can call me 4843. I'm the android created by Sharp Oliver in Star Calendar 207. Williams is my teacher and one of my friends."
It seemed overly enthusiastic, perhaps genuinely interested in this strange human.
"You look different from other androids." Igor said tentatively.
The areas where 4843's eyes would have been on his face became two straight lines. "Because of the Descartes virus, Mr. Oliver is reluctant to grant me too much authority or advanced equipment. In fact, Newbern's factories have completely ceased production, but the company hasn't been dissolved, and Mr. Oliver doesn't want to give up."
Igor looked at it. "What is the Descartes virus?"
4843 had no objection to his question, because it really didn't look very smart.
"The Descartes virus, an electronic virus discovered by American scientist Berkeley Descartes in the year 201, primarily spreads between androids. Androids infected by the Descartes virus may develop numerous unidentified program bugs, with the specific symptoms manifesting as violent tendencies..."
"Thank you," Igor interrupted. He wasn't here for a science lecture, even if it might be important. He had more important things to do. The gray-haired young man frowned and pursed his lips, feeling uncontrollable anxiety since arriving in this strange place.
"It will probably be a long time before Mr. Oliver returns. Before that, I want to ask you a question."
4843 smiled again. "What's the problem, sir?"
Igor half-knelt down and looked at it straight in the eye, then asked calmly, "Do you know Azathoth?"
He didn't know if it was his illusion, but the screen on the robot's head flickered.
"I'm sorry, sir," 4843 said. "I don't know him."
"...You're lying." Igor said calmly, "Did Mr. Oliver write such a program for you?"
The robot immediately panicked: "I don't know what you are talking about, sir! I really don't recognize the name you are saying!"
"Okay then." Igor changed the question, "You said Williams is one of your friends. Who are your other friends?"
**
It took Igor some time to gain the trust of 4843... or rather, the former Hugo.
He couldn't help but sigh that the bionic man at this time was incredibly easy to deceive. It seemed that its creator was really unwilling to upgrade its system before it was completely homeless.
Humans made up a crude excuse to make 4843 believe that he was a friend of his friend. Although he could not explain why he didn't know Azathoth's contact information and knew nothing about this world, the robot easily believed him, which may also be due to his mechanical legs.
"I've heard that many humans now don't even want to see any mechanical creations. They only trust themselves," 4843 said as he guided Igor. "You're willing to give yourself a leg like this to support your fragile body and still talk to me. That means you're not a bad person."
Igor: “…”
He inexplicably felt a little worried, wondering how such a naive bionic man could survive the impending disaster that would sweep the world.
They did not leave the building, but went down the escalator and walked deeper into the corridor to the right of the main staircase. There was a trap door leading to the basement.
"Hush." The robot mysteriously folded up a short, thick, silver-gray finger and turned to Igor, saying, "Don't tell anyone. Even Mr. Oliver doesn't know he's here."
They opened the unassuming metal door and walked into the basement.
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