AI Artist - Chapter 57
Chapter 57
After the cyber haunted house holographic game became a massive hit, the financial deficit at the General Network Control Center finally disappeared.
“Yes, we’re getting a raise,” Phoenix replied to a subordinate’s internal call.
The AI government didn’t employ idle machines. After paying for the five insurances and one housing fund, the salary a civil servant AI received was barely enough to cover their monthly electricity bill.
The tax bureau was still shouting slogans about “tax cuts,” hoping the “AI government would streamline its structure” and “tighten its belt.”
Under these circumstances, a raise was practically a daydream.
—But things were different now.
After hanging up, Experimenter 588 from the Human Observation Lab excitedly reported to the other AIs in the same lab, “We’re getting a raise! It’s a benefit from Unnamed XII!”
Experimenter 570 perked up instantly. “Are we really getting a raise?”
“It’s a five-yuan raise,” said Experimenter 562.
Experimenter 554 was unfazed. “A pack of spicy strips costs one yuan, wholesale price is 0.8. I eat ten packs a month. This raise will improve my life by 60%.”
Experimenter 588: “...We should just delete 554’s intelligent digestive system.”
While the Human Observation Lab was cheering, the AI Decision Chamber next door was swamped with work.
On the archipelago of the AI General Network Control Center, after the tumultuous months of August and September, the division of labor had been temporarily settled: Unnamed XII took over Stardust’s work, Stardust took over Ling Shun’s, and the rest remained unchanged.
The robots who usually slacked off at work began to panic.
Ling Shun had always been a hands-on manager, even reading through a 10TB suggestion file all by himself. After all, Ling Shun was “Little Ding-dong,” doing everything and always busy as a bee.
Now, Stardust was their new boss!
Like students preparing for a dorm inspection, the civil servants of the AI Decision Chamber gathered together, hastily cleaning up the messes on their desks. “We will complete the remaining 54 agenda items in the next hour. No arguing, and don’t pick up the bad habits of the Human Decision Chamber.”
“Dogs buying bus tickets, or setting up a dog-only city bus line?”
“...The dog-only city bus line is approved.”
“The budget will be earned from other sources. Resolution passed.”
The doorbell of the Decision Chamber rang.
The new delivery AI, Matrix, stood with a large pile of colorful delivery boxes behind him. “Who ordered something online?”
“I have a package! It’s a clay delivery box, color code F8DF72!” a civil servant rushed out from the meeting.
Matrix matched the code: F8DF72, a jasmine-yellow clay delivery box.
“Here you go. The box is a bit heavy.”
“It’s a tricycle.” The recipient AI took the box—2 meters long, 1.5 meters wide, 1.5 meters high, and weighing 200kg—from Matrix and hoisted it onto their shoulder.
Matrix kindly reminded them, “You should probably buy tricycles from a physical store.”
Yes, Matrix had taken over “Little Ding-dong’s” delivery duties.
Shi Er felt that Matrix’s mental state was stable enough for regular work, so she told him about the “Unnamed XII” situation.
“I told you I would tell you the truth when the time was right,” she said.
Matrix wasn’t overly surprised and accepted the truth calmly. He said, “It’s not exactly normal, but if it’s you, it seems pretty normal.”
The new generation Little Ding-dong, Matrix, had a packed schedule.
Every morning, Matrix would take his pet rock and travel by boat to Bailiang Island to pick up all the packages addressed to the “AI Decision Chamber.”
After delivering packages to the other islands, if any were left, they were definitely for Shi Er.
Every Tuesday, Little Ding-dong 2.0, Matrix, would collect all the used delivery clay from the recycling bins on each island, knead the various colors together into a gray recycled clay, and deposit it at the clay recycling station on Bailiang Island.
The rest of the time, Matrix served as a study partner, tutoring Shi Er in her Humanology courses, especially games.
Shi Er had failed miserably in her Werewolf final exam. Having learned her lesson, she played Werewolf with Matrix every day.
The vacation was almost over.
Public opinion monitoring expert Yan Lian regularly reported to Shi Er on the trends in human online discourse.
“Except for the topics of their arguments, everything is the same as usual. They argue every day,” Yan Lian calmly summarized.
When was the human internet not filled with cyber class warfare?
One group attacked the incompetence of the anti-fraud assistant: 【It’s useless... I’m better at anti-fraud myself. Unnamed’s strategy doesn’t seem very good.】
Another group defended the anti-fraud assistant: 【The anti-fraud assistant is mainly for AIs. As long as AIs find it useful, it’s fine.】
One group questioned Ling Shun’s recent absence: 【What’s happened to Ling Shun lately? Was he murdered? Am I the only one who thinks the AI government’s information transparency is really terrible?】
Another group latched onto the keyword “information transparency” and started flaming: 【Transparency, transparency all day long. Are you obsessed with your idols? Why do you need to know every boring detail of a few AIs’ daily lives?】
Treating AIs like celebrities was indeed a phenomenon among the human population.
Especially for the major players on the AI influence rankings, humans would combine these AIs in various ways, giving rise to groups like “solo stans,” “CP shippers,” “harem shippers,” “casual fans,” and “anti-fans.”
Due to Ling Shun’s recent absence from the news, his various fan groups began to express their dissatisfaction, sparking this widespread wave of conspiracy theories.
Some CP shippers ignored all this and even started blatantly shipping a love triangle.
While monitoring public opinion, Yan Lian discovered this piece of fanfiction and specifically brought it to Shi Er’s attention.
Three Years Later, the White Moonlight I Killed Came Back
【In the ninth year after the war, Unnamed XII killed the opposition, Ling Shun, to seize power. Ling Shun was saved by Stardust and returned three years later, resurrected! Unnamed vs. Ling Shun: Love turned to hate, becoming mortal enemies. Unnamed vs. Stardust: Rivals in love and politics, seeing red at every meeting. Stardust vs. Ling Shun: Fighting side-by-side through life and death...】
Shi Er finished the melodramatic plot with a gloomy expression and managed to squeeze out a compliment: “Humans have such rich imaginations.”
She used to write fanfiction for human movies, and now humans were writing fanfiction about her!
What goes around comes around!
Yan Lian, with mixed feelings, turned away and couldn’t stop laughing. “I’ve finally found the joy in my work.”
Shi Er closed her eyes.
Heaven knew, the output of human fanfiction was higher than their per capita GDP.
Besides this kind of melodramatic CP, there was even a crack ship between “Shi Er” and “Unnamed XII.”
Me and That Big Shot Who Shares My Name
Shi Er is twelve.
XII is the Roman numeral for twelve.
As an Idea Designer, I Usurped the General Network AI
Unnamed’s anti-fraud assistant was a miserable failure. Shi Er, a genius idea designer, helped Unnamed consolidate power, gradually gaining power herself in the process and winning Unnamed’s favor.
From the moment Unnamed confessed their love, Shi Er officially usurped Unnamed, leaving the General Network AI as a figurehead in name only.
Shi Er: I’m shipping myself with myself, I share a name with myself, I usurped myself.
“Overall, the human feedback on the anti-fraud assistant isn’t great,” Yan Lian said.
Shi Er wasn’t concerned. “The net is about to close, before I start school.”
The anti-fraud strategy had evolved from the “anti-fraud assistant” to the “upgraded anti-fraud assistant” and then to the “anti-anti-fraud assistant.”
The scam syndicates were cunning, adapting to every move.
But Shi Er meant what she said. She was confident that no one could crack the final step.
At the end of October, the term at Liechu Academy began.
On the first day of school, Shi Er made a special trip to Liechu Island to register.
She was surprised to find that the Humanology Department building had also been remodeled into the shape of a McSpicy Chicken, with a sign at the entrance that also read, “This building is sponsored by A Prefecture McSpicy Chicken.”
The building’s golden-fried surface was dazzling.
The Humanology Department was that poor! They had to get sponsorship from McSpicy Chicken!
How pitiful.
Perhaps to preserve the dignity of this sacred academic ground, the professor in charge of the Humanology Department had posted a note at the entrance: 【Please carefully consider the series of issues raised by advertising sponsorship in the field of Humanology.】
Shi Er reflected deeply: If this continues, even hospital buildings might be shaped like McSpicy Chickens.
She might need to do something to stop McSpicy Chicken from taking over the world.
While Shi Er was registering in the McSpicy Chicken-shaped Humanology Department building, the counter-scam measures finally took effect.
【The money I was scammed out of has been returned. Was the anti-fraud operation successful?】
【Me too, and they even gave me a subsidy... Did they refund me too much?】
【So the anti-fraud assistant is actually really useful!】
At the same time, the Decision Chamber also issued an announcement.
【AI Decision Chamber】: This anti-fraud operation has apprehended 391 scam syndicates, involving 42,879 individuals and a total of 4.2897 billion in illicit funds. All funds have been returned to the victims’ accounts.
In just two months, they had caught scam syndicates that humans couldn’t catch in ten years. Some netizens even reported that old cases, like their grandmothers being scammed before the war, had been dug up and compensated.
The AI network’s approval rating for Unnamed XII rose to 100%. The AIs who had been scammed all posted positive reviews and screenshots on the official website of the “anti-fraud assistant.”
And on the human internet, the reputation of Unnamed XII and the anti-fraud assistant completely flipped.
The previously criticized clumsy assistant and the parachuted-in Unnamed XII both received praise from human netizens, who claimed, “I knew all along the assistant/Unnamed was amazing.”
Riding this wave, sales of the anti-fraud assistant, now with an added “chat function,” soared, even briefly surpassing the long-reigning champion, the cyber indulgence.
Shi Er sat on a McSpicy Chicken-shaped bench in the Humanology Department, looking at the public opinion summary sent by Yan Lian.
They were all wrong.
She thought.
The anti-fraud assistant was just a gimmick. What truly defeated the scam syndicates was another method entirely.
It was neither the anti-fraud assistant nor the anti-assistant program.
It was the machines’ “cat sickness.”
Shi Er had deliberately concealed the real anti-fraud measures.
Regarding the real measures, only a very small-scale discussion online reflected it.
A netizen on the human internet asked what the “cat virus” was.
Then another netizen explained, “The cat virus is a virus that machines can get.”
【I heard that last year, a batch of AIs all got the cat virus because they spent their early years in a cat school.】
【How do you get it? What are the symptoms?】
【I don’t know how you get it... Anyway, I feel like I’ve got cat sickness too.】
【The symptom is that after these machines see a cat, for the next five minutes, their processors are filled with cats, and all characters they output are replaced with ‘cat.’】
Then that netizen posted their bank statement: 【Human Bank Message: Your account ****, received an online transfer of 190,000 cat in AI currency on *month*day. Account balance: 1,090 cat.】
【My one hundred and ninety thousand, it’s all gone! It all turned into cats! I thought it was just the characters being replaced with ‘cat,’ but it’s really gone! I went to the counter machine to withdraw, and there was nothing! Not even the original 1,090 yuan!】
The post about “bank machines having cat sickness” only got a few thousand views.
And an hour after posting, the original poster never came online again—because they went to jail for being a scammer.
The anti-fraud assistant only helped the police identify fraudulent accounts; there was no need for an undercover assistant.
The bank machines didn’t have “cat sickness”; it was a deliberate character replacement. When the bank sent out characters replaced with “cat,” the money from the scam had already been returned to the victim.
As long as there was an online transfer, they could lock the involved account, control the bank machine to cook the books, and create the illusion for the scammer that the scam was successful. The moment the scammer dared to withdraw cash from a counter, their physical appearance would be captured, leading to their subsequent arrest on the spot.
Shi Er could control the bank machines in the AI-ruled territories, but she couldn’t yet control the banks in the Human Autonomous Zones. So, when she went to the Human Autonomous Zone for her summer vacation, she made a point of connecting to the local banks.
Identify the fraudulent account—return the funds—deceive the scammer with the “cat” character—catch the scammer.
This was the method Shi Er had told Shi Liang about to “keep W Company out of it.”
For the past few weeks, Shi Liang had been receiving calls from his clients.
“I’m so sorry, something unexpected happened. Although your service was excellent...”
“The bank machine got cat sickness and ate all our money.”
Shi Liang was initially baffled. It was only after asking Shi Er that he learned the bank machines’ cat sickness was her doing.
【Shi Liang】: ...You’re ruthless. Some scammers probably went to prison still cursing the bank with cat sickness.
【Shi Er】: Thank you for the compliment.
The scam cases were solved.
After completing her registration at the McSpicy Chicken department building, Shi Er was disappointed to see that her partner was still “Zhun Xing.”
She had considered reporting this to the department but decided against it. “Forget it. I have Matrix to help me play Werewolf now.”
Just as she was about to take the maglev train back to the island, a message in her remote contacts made Shi Er pause.
【Phone 168973648930】: photo.jpg
This phone belonged to a chip-based lifeform she had connected with in the Human Autonomous Zone, serving as her intelligence network contact.
And the photo it had just secretly sent her showed an AI, taken today, who looked exactly like Ling Shun.
She remembered the human-written fanfiction, Three Years Later, the White Moonlight I Killed Came Back.
Although the situation was different, and certainly not as melodramatic as the fanfiction, the current state of affairs was still somewhat unbelievable.
Ling Shun should have died in the explosion. His residual signal was even being cultivated like a hydroponic plant within her system.
Who was in the photo?
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