Chapter 132: Formatting cannot delete after three months
Three months later, Shiho Miyano stood on the terrace on the top floor of the laboratory.
The night wind blew in, snatching away all the remaining warmth from the human body on the white coat.
She held a cigarillo between her fingers.
The cigarette rolled nimbly between her slender knuckles, but it was impossible to light it.
She doesn't smoke.
She just needed a gesture, a gesture that would make her look like "OK, everything is going according to plan."
The heat on my cheeks was cooled by the wind, but the processor in my brain was still overheating.
For the past three months, her life has completely entered automatic script mode.
Nod. Response. Operate the centrifuge. Swallow the nutrient solution.
The world is compressed into 0s and 1s, boring, precise, and does not accept any errors.
However, Dr. Agasa still hasn't made any breakthrough in the method he found to revive Vermouth.
We discussed many different combinations and tried different methods of cell regeneration, but none of them worked.
Modern alchemy is not that easy.
Until today, Destiny, the screenwriter with a great sense of humor, suddenly came back to life and dropped a hot update patch, forcing it into her script.
The screen flickers.
Deep in the source code of APTX4869, several taboo words suddenly popped up.
"The Philosopher's Stone... the Wine of Immortality..."
Oh, that woman.
Chris Wynyard. Vermouth.
These two names are the underlying viruses in her life system. They have long been deeply bound to the core code and cannot be deleted even by formatting.
"You really do like heights."
The sound came into my ears on the wind.
The voice was lazy and the tone was full of control.
First second: It's a bug. Absolutely a bug. Working overtime can cause hallucinations. It's scientifically proven.
Second: CPU burns out, requesting formatting.
Second 3: Firewall? What is that? Is it delicious?
The neck turned, frame by frame.
This movement is so slow that it can be selected as the best slow-motion movie of the year.
At the entrance to the terrace, a person is leaning against it.
A long black trench coat, an open shirt collar, and long golden hair flowing over his shoulders.
Wow, does Return of the Dead now come with a soft light filter?
She crossed her arms over her chest, and there was that familiar curve on her lips that seemed to say, "You mortals are really interesting."
Blonde hair, blue eyes, and that classic confident, beautiful and sarcastic face.
Vermouth.
Chris Wynyard.
The two names collided violently in my mind, and the world suddenly became silent.
The woman was standing there alive.
"Surprise, my dear Shirley." Vermouth spoke in subwoofer mode, "Or would it be more exciting to call you... Shiho?"
It's still that iconic name-based pick-up line.
Shiho's pupils contracted sharply.
A drop of scalding liquid hit the back of my hand.
My vision is blurred.
Tears flowed uncontrollably, rushing down. She tried to raise her arms, but they felt like a thousand pounds of weight.
Then she smiled.
The rainstorm poured down without warning, crackling against the glass, accompanied by passionate laughter.
She just stood there.
His face was covered with tears, but he was smiling.
Like a completely broken exquisite doll.
Vermouth raised her eyebrows.
His expression said "Oh no, it seems like I've gotten out of control", but his ice-blue eyes were full of excitement of watching a good show.
High heels tapped on the concrete. Tap. Tap.
Every step is based on Shiho's heartbeat.
"You're dead."
Shiho finally found her voice, dry and rough.
"When has my acting ever disappointed you?" Vermouth's tone was light, as if she was discussing whether the wind was cool enough tonight. "You know, dear. Dying once is just preparation for the next bigger performance."
“Pah.”
A crisp sound.
The cigar between Miyano Shiho's fingers died heroically and was cut in half.
She herself continued to be petrified.
His eyes were fixed on Vermouth's face with a standard smile, and he wanted to use his eyes to conduct a physical scan and find even 0.1% of the modeling bug.
"You're really annoying..." Shiho's voice was dry. "Is it fun?"
Vermouth stopped in front of her.
"Well, that depends on how you define it." Vermouth tapped her lips with her index finger, tilted her head, and spoke a cruel line with an innocent expression. "For example, unlocking the limited edition SSR card face that makes Shirley cry is truly worth it. It's like, a brilliant start, right?"
Shiho pouted and ignored her, heading upstairs to the lab.
She knew Vermouth would follow.
In the laboratory, Shiho sat down in front of her computer and did her own work without even pouring tea for Vermouth.
It is still the implicit British approach, saying you are an uninvited guest and I don’t welcome you.
"It's just fake death, just fake death." Vermouth sat on the laboratory table, her movements smooth and flowing, as if she was the owner of this laboratory.
As always, she crossed her long legs and walked with an elegant posture, as if she was about to produce a goblet out of thin air in the next second.
"Basic operation, dear. People like us would be embarrassed to clock in for work in the organization if we don't reincarnate once or twice."
Good job.
Excited comments: What she said makes so much sense that I can’t refute it.
Shiho silently took half a step back, trying to regain a safe distance.
"So, you wrote the script?"
"Do you think I'm willing to leave?" The frivolity in Vermouth's voice instantly disappeared. "I thought you would understand. I don't trust anyone... I only trust you."
"Trust me?" Shiho sneered, her eyes reddening. "Then why are you trying to disappear?"
"Because if I say one more word, you won't let me go." Vermouth's tone switched back to business mode, but her eyes were unfathomable, comparable to the Mariana Trench.
The only sound in the room was the airflow from the central air conditioner.
It was making a whining sound, like a socially anxious elf drawing circles in the corner.
Shiho narrowed her eyes, and light gathered in her azure pupils.
【Charge 100%】
"You're always like this." She snorted coldly, draining every last drop of moisture from her voice. "You presuppose my stance, predict my actions, and then buy VIP front-row tickets to enjoy your self-directed, self-acted one-man show."
Vermouth leaned forward, the distance between them zeroed in. Her emerald eyes locked onto the blue ones.
Speak softly, and the damage is MAX.
"But aren't you acting too? You say no, but your body stands here honestly. You thought I was dead, but that crappy research that caused you so much pain is still moving forward, isn't it? And in this process, you've learned more about aptX, right? You know what kind of grand plan the organization wants to achieve with it."
Vermouth reached out, brushed her cheek with her fingertips, and brushed away the non-existent mess of hair.
The movements were skillful, as if they had been downloaded into muscle memory.
"You've lost weight."
The comment popped up: Here it comes! The champion of the annual clichéd line competition! The most classic of all!
Shiho's inner comments were flooding the screen like crazy, and her facial expression maintained the last line of defense of her aloof personality.
"You're incredibly thick-skinned for a Hollywood actress." She didn't wave her hand away, but her voice sent the temperature plummeting. "You're resurrecting the dead just to star in this tearjerking drama?"
Vermouth's mouth turned up, the curve elegant and asking for a beating: "What kind of drama? Touching you, or making you angry?"
"What I'm saying is..."
Shiho fell silent instantly.
Damn it, she fooled me again.
She closed her eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, the only thing left in his azure eyes was the tiredness after being formatted and cleaned.
"Forget it. We're not on the same page."
Shiho turned her head, forcibly breaking the eye contact, and went back to pretending to be working hard.
Vermouth tilted her head, with a playful and sinister smile, an expression that said, "I see through you."
"You think you can just come back and write off the past?" Shiho said coldly, "What did you think of me then? What do you think of me now?"
"I thought you were..."
Vermouth broke the safe distance between the two.
"...someone who will forgive me no matter what I do."
She finished speaking and raised her hand. Her thumb brushed across Shiho's cheek. The tear marks were gone.
"Then you miscalculated."
"Really?" The air conditioner's wind ruffled Vermouth's blonde hair. It was quite pretty.
"Why did you come back?"
Shiho finally asked, because this question had a business aspect to it, and she could tell herself that she was just doing her job.
"Because I hate losing. I've been dealing with some things these past three months, leaving London, thinking about you, and then I realized that you're not my experiment, Shirley... You're the only bug that can kill me."
Shiho closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Then she opened her eyes and squinted: "I hate you."
Vermouth leaned over, took her hand, and then softly placed a kiss on the back of her hand.
"Then let's start with hatred, Shiho."
Outside the window, raindrops continued to fall.
Reunion Game.
The rules are ridiculously simple: whoever says love first is out.
Of course, they all knew that there were no winners in this game.
Only they both fell, straight to the center of the earth.
"Is this script interesting?"
Miyano Shiho smiled and shook her head.
"My life is your personal, limited-edition, super-sized immersive escape room?"
Vermouth said nothing.
At this moment, her gaze was definitely a high-precision scanner, reading the progress bar of Miyano Shiho's hair.
Inside the room, there was only the sound of two people breathing, one in and one out, with a tangerine smell, pulling and pulling repeatedly.
"Script-based killing? Too brain-burning," Vermouth began, her voice ASMR-level charming and dangerous. "As for me, I actually just want to be a pretty NPC, handing you roses in the audience. Those police officers just run around mindlessly, while you, my little scientist, have taken over my Purple Hill for the past three months. I've watched from afar and you absolutely understand our world and how to operate it. You've turned a simple game of cat and mouse into a high-level two-player tango."
The fuse called "reason" in Shiho's brain was emitting smoke.
The barrage passed by: [Danger].
She maintained Shirley's classic sarcastic tone. "Don't flatter me. I'm just curious, do you sell your Resurrection Armor wholesale? Buy one, get one free?"
"Because you can't bear to see me finish filming and leave."
Vermouth's voice softened, and she raised her hand towards Shiho's face.
The air is compressed instantly.
Every suspended speck of dust is filled with unbridled desires and unfulfilled provocations.
Outside, the wind howled and the rain fell. The whole world became a blurry background.
"Your appearance today is very much like a B-grade horror movie," Shiho said.
Shirley still had the same angry and icy face.
"Then you were scared?" Her voice turned into electricity, connecting directly to Miyano Shiho's central processing unit.
"Did you cry when I died?"
Shiho was silent.
"You're going to pay," Shiho whispered, each word clear.
"The price?" Vermouth asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile.
"Fool me once, you're a good trick. Fool me twice..." Shiho's eyes were fixed on Vermouth, "I'll let you taste for yourself what the poison you prepared tastes like."
"Before that, let me see your new achievements. Shirley, your life KPI for the past three months wasn't just checking in and crying in front of my black and white photo, was it?"
Shiho raised her hand and wiped her cheek. The dampness disappeared, and calmness returned.
She knew very well that tears were information, a weakness, and a knife that was handed over to Vermouth.
This psychological battle cannot be lost.
Although the two have experienced life and death, the secret struggle has not stopped.
"Come with me."
She turned and led Vermouth to the inner room filled with madness and fantasy.
She flipped a switch. The matrix of screens on one wall awoke one by one, their light slicing through the darkness.
On the screen are the mysterious symbols of ancient alchemy and the life structure of the DNA double helix.
The obsession of the Middle Ages, through the lens of the twenty-first century, reaches deep into the nucleus of the cell.
Vermouth's gaze scanned the cascading data stream with precision. In her blue eyes was the curiosity of a cat discovering a new toy.
Finally, her gaze stopped, looking at a line of text that Shiho had highlighted in scarlet red.
"Mercury transformation: a hypothesis of cell regeneration based on cell reverse programming."
The corners of Vermouth's mouth curl upwards. Beautiful, yet deadly.
"Sulli... you're so smart! You're trying to force metaphysical concepts and DNA recombination into an official pairing."
Vermouth's tone was full of appreciation, full and without any sugar added.
"Miyano Shiho, you're not a scientist. You're a magician."
"snort."
Shiho wanted to use this contemptuous word to cover up her previous loss of composure when she was crying.
"Stop the nonsense. If you can, explain why a sixteenth-century alchemist is connected to our cutting-edge cellular programming theory."
Vermouth chuckled.
"Because those ancient and crazy guys are themselves system bugs that science can't explain."
"Before they turned stone into gold, they first completed the alchemy of their own souls. Don't you think that is the greatest alchemy?"
Vermouth reached out her finger, passed over Shiho's shoulder, and tapped on a formula on the screen.
“You’ve seen the phenomenon, but you haven’t found the passcode yet…” Vermouth lowered her voice, “The key point isn’t that cells are immortal, but that memories are immortal.”
She paused, then looked at Shiho's expression and continued slowly.
"What if I tell you that there's more to the truth about APTX4869? Guess what surprise I'll give you, my dear...Shiho?"
"Guess what, when I come back this time..."
She paused, admiring Shiho's adorable expression.
"Is it for you, or for the medicine?"
"No more disappearing," Shiho said. She spoke softly, but the instruction was strong. "Otherwise, my dissection skills will become rusty."
Those harsh words posed no real danger to the blonde woman in front of him.
Kitten pretending to be a fierce meat pad to scratch people.jpg
Vermouth tilted her head. In her azure eyes, she reflected Miyano Shiho's feigned ferocity.
She stared at it for a long time, then raised the corners of her lips and smiled.
"As you command, my little princess."
She raised her hand and gently straightened Shiho's slightly messy collar.
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