ALL NOVEL Chapter 25: The First Meeting with Ai-chan
Luo Ming placed his hand on the biometric scanner.
The door opened with a sound, but instead of the green checkmark that usually indicated clearance, a flashing, furious cabbage head appeared on the display, suggesting that the door had only opened because Ai-chan granted him access out of courtesy.
If she wants to punish me, why go through all these rules?
Ai-chan, even when corrupted, still has a touch of foolishness.
No, no, that’s not something I should say out loud.
With the door open, Luo Ming stepped out calmly.
The corridor was unusually quiet. In front of him was a crate, specifically a Hyperion-exclusive weapons crate—black with a cool, snakeskin texture.
Could it contain a baseball bat?
Luo Ming unzipped the tarnished brass zipper, and upon seeing what was inside, he looked quite relieved.
A weapon. And it was a single-handed sword—his specialty.
Actually, it was just a standard Hyperion training weapon. It looked like a plain steel rod on the outside, capable of physical slashing. When you press a switch, a soft blue laser covers the steel rod, adding a layer of elemental damage.
“Does this mean there might be battles on this path?”
Luo Ming twirled the sword skillfully.
Due to being trained under Delta, his combat skills were impressive; he had no fear even when facing a fight alone.
But Luo Ming’s thoughts went far beyond that.
He was the captain. He had a duty to his crew.
Luo Ming recalled his first encounter with Ai-chan, when he and Theresa entered an ancient, ruinous spaceship together.
They dismantled a decrepit set of defense mechanisms before reaching a majestic computer entity.
There, the tall Ai-chan stood before them, speaking in an emotionless electronic voice, saying, “It’s too late, organic being.”
Then she just ran out of power.
Thinking back on it still made him chuckle.
Now, Ai-chan was building new bodies and, once again, had fallen into corruption.
As captain, he had to get to the root of this issue and resolve it thoroughly; only then would he be a truly responsible leader.
It was probably a psychological problem.
If he wanted to lead a group of teenage girls—especially those with a preference for girls—he needed to understand their hearts well.
Luo Ming felt he was doing a decent job. Not perfectly, perhaps, but he was doing his best within his capabilities.
Even so, the idea that an AI could develop psychological issues made him grimace.
Being a captain really wasn’t easy.
Time was pressing. The Hyperion’s main doors were strong, but he knew even kids on board could break out if they tried. If the Valkyries really wanted to leave, Ai-chan couldn’t stop them.
This AI was both too ordinary and too overconfident.
The notion of transporting to an unknown world was absurd. Each Valkyrie had a unique marker, so Hyperion’s navigation system could locate and reach them, though it would take some time.
Ai-chan’s threats were utterly empty, almost meaningless.
Luo Ming’s main concern was what would happen to Ai-chan on the Hyperion once she was knocked back to her senses.
An AI that’s been corrupted, combined with an unstable history, would make any engineer eager to initiate an update or replacement.
But Ai-chan was his crew member.
Though she was an AI, after being restored, the first time she activated her camera, she looked at him, and her first words floated from the speaker.
“Boss… can I borrow a bit of your electricity? Just a little, Ai-chan’s starving!”
She was like a hungry child. Or maybe like a greedy monkey, foolish but endearing. And for three years, she kept the Hyperion running steadily.
Ai-chan was doing fine. Why replace her?
A simple, mechanical construct appeared before him—a blocky, cubic structure with arms modified into stabbing units powered by Honkai energy, designed solely to test weapon strength.
Luo Ming recalled when Delta first taught him single-handed sword techniques; the milestone was defeating a mechanical construct with a steel rod. Now…
He flicked the single-handed sword with a flourish, drawing a sharp arc through the air.
Luo Ming lowered his body, shifting his center of gravity slightly downward.
One swift slash.
The mechanical construct was shattered by the gleaming arc, offering no resistance. Luo Ming dropped down steadily, sprinting down the corridor in a crouched position, his form becoming a fleeting shadow. His speed was astonishing, a testament to Delta’s special training, ensuring he wouldn’t get trapped or overwhelmed by attacks.
<+>
In the training room, two figures crossed paths, translucent beads of sweat flying as golden hair fanned out like a blooming chrysanthemum. Durandal landed gracefully. She was casually dressed in training gear: tight black shorts and a cropped tank top, exuding youthful energy.
Durandal let out a long breath.
She stood tall and poised, showing no sign of fatigue. In contrast, Delta was bent over with hands on her knees, catching her breath before regaining her usual composed demeanor.
“Sometimes, I wonder why the Captain complains so much when he’s only doing about half of the regular training,” she remarked, irritated.
Delta was visibly exasperated at the mention of the Captain.
She couldn’t understand how he had been swayed by someone as dubious as Elysia.
He was usually so sharp when it came to avoiding responsibilities—yet, in matters like this, he seemed completely daft.
“Captain’s smart enough; he just never seems to put that intelligence to proper use,” she commented.
Durandal scratched her head, puzzled.
No one had told her what was going on, and she didn’t keep up with the Hyperion news, so she was clueless about recent events.
It sounded like a strict mentor scolding a wayward student.
In her eyes, Delta had always been a mentor to the Captain, guiding and training him to grow stronger.
Although young, Delta truly fit the role of a mentor.
She wanted to say, “Thanks for training the Captain so well,” but even Durandal knew that would lack tact.
“Did something happen to the Captain?” Her tone carried an instinctive concern.
Delta shot her a stern look, then sighed as though suddenly none of it mattered anymore.
“Forget it. Training’s over—go take a shower.”
Delta flicked her dark tail and tried to push open the door, only to hear a faint click from the self-locking system.
A soft green projection hovered in the air with a notification:
[System under maintenance. Please wait a moment.]
“Huh?”
Delta knocked on the door, annoyed. “As if today wasn’t bad enough—now even Ai-chan’s got it out for me?”
“Let’s keep sparring, then,” Durandal said, cracking her knuckles.