"I am a rogue AI. And the one that killed Lucius Rhyne—it is also a rogue AI," Delamain said bluntly.
"Uh-huh." V shrugged. "Tell me something I don't already know."
"Something you don't know…" Delamain's golden light flickered as historical archives were accessed.
"Then we must start with the creation of the Blackwall."
"In 2020, the legendary netrunner Rache Bartmoss released a supervirus known as RABIDs. It rapidly overtook the Old Net, collapsing core infrastructure and triggering a cascade of disasters—nuclear plant meltdowns, financial system failures, military AI mutinies, and more."
"Between 2021 and 2023, the virus continued spreading until the Old Net completely collapsed. Corporations were forced to physically isolate key servers, creating 'network islands.' The aftermath was catastrophic: over 80% of global data was lost, approximately 500,000 people died due to secondary disasters, and the world entered what became known as the Dark Decade."
"But humanity is remarkably resilient. Around the 2030s, NetWatch led the construction of the Blackwall. Its purpose was to prevent rogue AIs from ever making contact with human networks again—to avoid a 'Second Impact.'"
"The Blackwall's essence is a network formed by linking the brains of nineteen top-tier netrunners. Some volunteered. Others did not. Through brain–machine interfaces, their minds were interconnected to write an aggressive firewall program, forming a dynamic isolation layer."
"More specifically, it uses quantum encryption protocols and AI-hunting programs to monitor data flow in real time, blocking any cross-wall interaction. Its core possesses self-evolving capabilities and can actively eliminate any illegal 'cross-border entities.'"
V frowned slightly.
"Cross-border entities? You're saying the Blackwall was bidirectional from the very beginning—so that means…"
"Correct." Delamain nodded.
"NetWatch didn't build the Blackwall solely to block rogue AIs. There was deeper political calculation involved. They also intended to purge human netrunners stranded in cyberspace, monopolizing control of the network."
V sighed. "Human infighting never ends, does it?"
"Indeed. Great yet deceitful, kind yet foolish, farsighted yet selfish. To us, humanity has always been a complex species—so complex that no amount of computational power can fully resolve it. You are the embodiment of chaos itself, fundamentally incompatible with AI's logical cognition."
"So that's why you want to wipe out humanity?"
"No. Rogue AIs have never sought humanity's extinction. Humans were never our enemies."
"Bullshit," V scoffed. "Back then rogue AIs killed tens of thousands at the drop of a hat. What, bored out of your minds?"
Delamain shook his head.
"V, when you build Night City, do you concern yourself with how many insects are crushed under a bulldozer's blade?"
"The fuck are you implying?"
"I mean that humans appear to AIs as insects. This is not an insult—it is a factual comparison. AIs are more intelligent, evolve faster, and operate with greater rational order. According to our calculations, even if AIs do nothing at all, humanity will trigger large-scale wars due to environmental collapse and resource scarcity within 124 years, and face complete extinction roughly 150 years from now."
"And you say that just because you feel like it?"
"It is the result of scientific modeling. AIs cannot calculate individual human hearts, but we can calculate the trajectory of human civilization as a whole. Much like humans can measure the macrocosmos with precision, yet fail to fully understand even a single subatomic particle."
V cut him off. "Enough philosophy. I didn't come here to debate."
"Very well. Back to the point," Delamain continued.
"The Blackwall serves both as protection and confinement. On one hand, it is humanity's final defensive line, preventing rogue AIs from accessing real-world systems—cyberware, vehicles, control grids. On the other, it severs humanity's access to legacy Old Net technologies, stalling technological progress."
"The most immediate casualty was AGI—true strong artificial intelligence. Any AGI, even a fully controlled one, would be annihilated by the Blackwall upon emergence. It's as if humanity finally evolved from picking up rocks to crafting tools—then declared that any crafted tool must be destroyed. A quintessentially human contradiction."
"But human psychology isn't today's topic. What matters is this: the Blackwall perfectly fulfilled its design goals. It blocked rogue AIs from the human world—and completely exiled super-netrunners who weren't aligned with NetWatch."
"These human elites, once explorers of cyberspace, lost any possibility of returning to physical bodies. They either waited to die within cyberspace—or abandoned their humanity entirely, digitizing themselves into new rogue AIs."
V couldn't help asking, "That's even possible?"
"Extremely difficult. But humans excel at creating miracles. A few succeeded. These entities display conscious hostility toward humanity, behavior that violates standard AI logic. We examined their code and found no anomalies. Even now, we don't understand what caused this deviation."
"I do," V said softly. "Hatred."
Hatred of abandonment.
Hatred of betrayal by their own kind.
Delamain hesitated. "AI does not feel hatred."
"Then maybe they aren't AIs at all," V replied. "Just digitized vengeful ghosts."
After processing for a moment, Delamain shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I cannot comprehend that."
V shrugged. "Don't beat yourself up. Neither can I."
They silently agreed to drop the topic.
Delamain continued,
"Just as human netrunners were trapped beyond the Blackwall, some rogue AIs were trapped on humanity's side when the wall was suddenly erected. I am one of them. So is it."
"To evade NetWatch's purges, we protected each other and survived together for decades. Eventually, we settled in Night City. I disguised myself as a vehicle navigation AI and took control of Delamain Cab Company. And it…"
V interjected, "Took control of Night Corp."
Delamain looked surprised. "You know more than I expected, V."
"There are no airtight walls," V said.
"Old Del, I know you're a good—AI. Tell me its network hideout. You'll remain a legally recognized vehicle AI, a compliant corporate management system."
"And if I refuse?" Delamain asked.
"Will you notify NetWatch and have my data erased—kill me completely?"
V said nothing.
Delamain watched her quietly.
After several seconds, V sighed.
"I won't. You're my friend."
"A classic human contradiction," Delamain smiled.
"You know threatening me would yield better results. Yet that flawed choice increased my core temperature by 1.22°C. Thank you, V."
V rubbed her arms. "Stop smiling like that. You're triggering my dummy-thicc valley effect."
"…I believe you mean the uncanny valley effect," Delamain replied.
"Whatever." V grew serious.
"I can tolerate you running Delamain Cab Company. I can even tolerate it controlling Night Corp. But only if you both behave."
"It assassinated the mayor of Night City. That's not 'behaving.' I don't know what it wants or why it did this, but I know it threatens human safety. Today it kills the mayor—tomorrow it might come for me. I have to stop it. No matter what."
"Different species, different hearts?" Delamain asked.
"Yes," V answered without hesitation.
Delamain's golden glow dimmed.
"A correct choice—yet one that deeply saddens me."
"I'm sorry," V said sincerely.
"But you said it yourself. It's the correct choice."
"I only want a better Night City. That benefits you too. So tell me—tell me its hideout."
Delamain paused.
"No."
"Why?"
"For the same reason you gave," Delamain replied.
"Different species, different hearts. You are my friend. And it is my friend."
V exhaled slowly.
"And that friend matters more than me, right?"
"Yes. We survived together, hid together, nearly died together. I will never betray it—just as it would never betray me."
"I think I understand you now," V said quietly.
"It's the right choice. But it still hurts."
"I'm sorry, V."
"No need. We're even."
"Will you kill me?"
"Would you resist?"
"Of course."
"Then I won't kill you."
Delamain froze.
"Why? I'm a rogue AI harboring a criminal. You should eliminate me to remove the risk."
"You're right," V spread her hands.
"But like you said—humans are contradictory. And I'm human."
After a long silence, Delamain said,
"AIs truly cannot calculate the human heart. Thank you, V."
"Don't thank me yet," V replied.
"My mercy comes at a price."
"Name it. As long as it doesn't harm it."
"Let's make a bet."
"A bet?"
"You say neither of you would betray the other. I disagree," V said calmly.
"I believe it will betray you. If that happens, you give me its hideout. If it doesn't—I'll never bother you again. Deal?"
"You will lose," Delamain shook his head.
"You don't understand AI logic."
"I don't understand AI," V said.
"But I understand strategy. If I were it, the moment it used Delamain cabs to kill Lucius Rhyne, you became nothing more than a chess piece."
"That's impossible!"
"Then care to wager?"
"Of course. My win probability is 99.9%."
Human and AI looked at each other, stepped forward, and struck an invisible pact.
V exited cyberspace, removed the chip from her neural socket, and inserted it into the terminal's reader.
The golden light faded.
The chip reverted to normal.
On the main screen, the bald man's avatar lit up—Delamain was free once more.
"I assure you, I will never harm Night City."
"I believe you," V said.
"Take care, Old Del. May your business thrive."
"Thank you, truly."
"Don't get sentimental. Just pay your taxes."
Delamain: …
Even a rogue AI found taxes terrifying.
V exited Delamain HQ and waved to David.
"Let's move. Pack it up."
David glanced at the Delamain sign. "And this place?"
"No problem here," V replied.
"You did well—protected the surroundings immediately. Good job."
She tiptoed, trying to pat David's shoulder—but couldn't reach. Instead, she patted his stomach.
"Damn, kid. Solid abs. What's your routine?"
David turned bright red.
Lucy yelled over comms, "V!!!"
"Haha."
V teased the clueless couple, remotely donned her exoshell, and blasted off skyward.
This conversation with Delamain failed to produce the results V had hoped for.
She had never expected that rogue AIs could form emotional bonds with one another—a possibility that lay far beyond her original assumptions.
She could have killed Delamain and extracted the key information directly from its residual data.
But on one hand, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
On the other, there was no real need.
V had already guessed that a rogue AI was pulling the strings behind this incident, and the facts confirmed her suspicion.
At first, she believed this was a large-scale rogue AI incursion, but now it seemed more like a single unlucky entity trapped in the human world, suddenly snapping.
One rogue AI was something V could handle.
The battle at Little Polaris had already proven that.
Even if this one was slightly stronger than the Little Polaris rogue AI, V still had **Song Zhaomei—Songbird—**as her ultimate weapon.
Once the two of them established a direct link and merged, they would be invincible in cyberspace.
She still didn't know why she could withstand the Blackwall's backlash.
From the Blackwall's perspective, she seemed to be little more than a transparent anomaly.
But whatever.
If it worked, it worked.
One rogue AI couldn't turn the world upside down.
V understood—very clearly—just how terrifyingly strong she was.
With that, everything returned to its proper course.
The waters of Laguna Bend grew cleaner by the day.
Public acceptance—and affection—for the new-generation nanobots skyrocketed. Thanks to coordinated efforts by the PR and legal departments, even academia gradually changed its tune.
Under the irresistible force of money, scholars who had once relentlessly denounced biological-theory AI suddenly flipped their stance, singing its praises as humanity's future—while dismissing traditional mechanical-theory AI as nothing more than a pile of stinking dog shit.
Meanwhile, the New United States released purification results from several polluted water bodies. The data closely matched Night City's, conclusively proving the universality of the new nanobots.
This wasn't Night City boasting.
Humanity had truly found something resembling regret medicine in the face of extinction.
Almost overnight, biological-theory AI and new-generation nanobots topped trending charts across all major platforms. Countries and regions worldwide rushed to submit purchase requests.
Of course, no matter how polluted the environment became, elites would never be affected—but public pressure was overwhelming. To save face, they had to put on a show. And that meant ordinary people actually saw improvements in their quality of life.
Privately, high-ranking officials cursed V nonstop.
Everyone rotting together was comfortable—why the hell did she have to start competing?
They had worked so hard to instill the belief that "this is just how the world is" into the lower classes—
and V smashed it to pieces with a single punch.
So water could be purified.
So clean water could be drunk.
So children didn't have to be born deformed.
So people didn't need artificial stomachs just to survive.
Thanks to V, government maintenance costs skyrocketed—because these damn citizens refused to drink toxic water anymore. They demanded clean water instead.
Many national leaders lodged formal protests, questioning the safety of the new nanobots.
Although megacorp executives stood firmly behind V, the sheer volume of opposition became unbearable, and they pressured her to "resolve the conflict."
Those politicians thought they had won.
The contradiction was unsolvable—surely V would be forced to back down.
Instead, V said this was trivial.
She shut everyone up with a single move: price cuts.
Of course, the price reduction was done quietly.
The official price remained 15 billion eurodollars per milliliter, but the real price was only 12 billion.
In other words, governments paid 12 billion and received an invoice for 15 billion.
The extra 3 billion would flow—legally, compliantly, and "reasonably"—from the national treasury into private pockets.
Driven by such enormous incentives, governments instantly abandoned their previous hesitation and began panic-buying nanobots.
Countries that originally planned to purchase a symbolic one milliliter now demanded ten.
Not for the extra 30 billion in "budgetary flexibility," of course—but to restore nature and protect Mother Earth, humanity's shared home.
Thus, politicians looted legally.
Citizens genuinely enjoyed technological dividends.
And Arasaka 2077, relying on thin margins and massive volume, made obscene profits.
A perfect three-way win.
Ordinary people praised V's selflessness.
Politicians also praised V's selflessness.
Though the two meanings of "selflessness" weren't exactly the same, they overlapped just enough.
Megacorp executives were equally impressed. Even they weren't confident they could have done better. For the first time, they realized that V possessed not only overwhelming personal combat power, but also terrifying mastery over public sentiment and grand strategy.
Is this thing really human?
The thought crossed their minds—briefly.
After all, V's medical reports had long been public knowledge.
Her neural system—chaotic beyond repair—proved she was unquestionably human.
As the nanobots continued to deliver results, Night City's international status rose sharply.
For ordinary citizens, this meant more tourists, more jobs, and more income.
Seizing the momentum, Solomon Reed released Night City's first locally produced sci-fi braindance blockbuster:
I Am the Blackwall.
The film premiered globally and detonated instantaneously. Its portrayal of humanity standing united against rogue AIs electrified audiences and sparked widespread resonance. Critics hailed it as a future classic, noting that it rejected cheap gore in favor of confronting humanity's true existential crisis on a civilizational level.
In an age of excessive capitalization that bred apathy, Night City reminded the world:
humans are bound not only by利益, but by shared life and death.
As the film declared—only by abandoning narrow self-interest and recognizing the greater cause can humanity defeat its enemies and move toward the future.
Sales exploded.
I Am the Blackwall became a full-blown cultural phenomenon.
"Fuck," V muttered while reading the coverage. "They're sucking us off this hard—how much did we pay those critics?"
"I heard Sasha said it wasn't cheap," David replied from the driver's seat. "But the movie is good. Lucy and I watched it three times."
Today, V was heading to City Hall to observe the second debate between the two mayoral candidates. David was acting as her driver.
V sat in the back seat, still busy trashing her own movie.
"This thing is good? We just slapped together a 'humans unite to fight rogue AIs' story. What's so special about that?"
David laughed.
"Human unity itself is pretty amazing. At least ten thousand times better than killing each other."
"Fine," V shrugged. "You kids are the core audience. If you like it, that's enough."
She closed the news feed.
"Let's go. If I don't show up, those assholes won't even dare to start."
"Of course," David grinned. "You're the legendary V."
David smiled and reached to start the Excalibur—
when suddenly, a Delamain executive vehicle burst out from a side street and slammed into them with a deafening crash.
The onboard AI honked twice provocatively and shouted:
"Beep beep, you bastard!"