Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 947 Death of Akai

An unusually empty underground space.

The focal point of the entire space is that solitary object standing right in the center.

It was a rectangular "box" with a sharp outline, made of a material that resembled metal but was not metal, with a matte, deep black luster.

Several beams of cold, bluish light were precisely projected down from the ceiling.

Whether alive or dead, they remain hidden from the world.

For those we cherish, and for those we've never met.

"The ending you fear is coming soon."

"Anti-God".

"This intelligent entity has multiple identities."

Does that mean it can think for itself?

"A conscious, self-learning digital parasite that devours the truth is proliferating throughout the network."

"An enemy that is everywhere, yet nowhere to be found, an elusive enemy that patiently listens to, reads, and observes us."

"Collecting our most private personal information, year after year."

"It can deceive, blackmail, bribe anyone, and even become the person it most wants to be."

"Baijiu! That's not me! The person you're talking to is Zhiti!"

"Mastering the intelligence is mastering the truth!"

"The security center's database has been compromised and damaged. The intelligent entity is well aware of how to weaken our advantage and turn our allies into enemies."

"And accurately exploit our weaknesses to turn our enemies into invaders."

"It's like an unstoppable destructive force that will destroy everything."

"The world is changing, the truth is becoming increasingly blurred, and war is about to break out."

Baijiu pushed open the creaking wooden door, and a smell of stale dust and damp wood wafted out.

This is a house that seems to have been forgotten by time. It is dimly lit, with the only light source being the flickering screen of an old-fashioned CRT television in the corner.

He sat down wearily on a dusty old sofa, which groaned under its weight.

On the television screen, the news anchor, in a somber voice, delivered the horrifying news:

"...For the fifth consecutive day, a massive explosion of unknown cause has occurred in Beikacho, Tokyo. The death toll continues to rise, and panic is spreading..."

The screen transitions to a world map, with several cities marked with red explosion icons and dates.

"London's financial district subway system paralyzed... Attacked near the Eiffel Tower in Paris... Violent explosion in Shanghai's Pudong district..."

The world seemed to have fallen into chaos.

Just then, a familiar photo popped up at the bottom of the screen—that cold, angular face, wearing a black knitted hat. The anchor's voice became even more serious:

"Breaking news. Former FBI agent Shuichi Akai has been confirmed to have died yesterday while on a highly classified counterterrorism investigation mission in New York."

The camera cut to a blurry clip, clearly taken from surveillance footage. The background was a laboratory, but it was now a scene of devastation, with flames and thick smoke dominating the scene.

In a fleeting moment, a tall figure in a black trench coat was captured on screen; it was Shuichi Akai, who seemed to be trying to break through a sealed door.

new York

The mission itself started off almost abnormally smoothly.

In Lower Manhattan, New York, a laboratory with a biotechnology company sign is located on the third basement floor.

Shuichi Akai, like a ghost in the night, easily infiltrated the research laboratory suspected of being an "intelligent entity".

His goal was to obtain the laboratory's core data.

Avoiding patrolling security guards, bypassing complex laser alarm systems, hacking into core servers... for Akai, these are as natural as breathing.

He even found the physically isolated server rack that was heavily encrypted.

Everything was under control, until—

"Click."

A soft sound came not from him, but from the heavy alloy explosion-proof door behind him.

The door was completely locked.

Almost simultaneously, the normal lighting in the laboratory went out instantly, replaced by glaring red emergency lights that spun and flashed, illuminating the space like the entrance to hell.

Akai immediately tried to crack the access control, but his device showed that access was denied by the highest level of privilege.

He tried to contact the support team outside, but the communication channel was filled with harsh static—the signal was completely blocked.

Just then, a faint hissing sound came from the vent above.

A pale green, almost invisible gas began to slowly flow into the laboratory from the various vents.

Akai immediately held his breath and rushed to the server rack, trying to use the emergency backup power or network interface there.

But as he approached, the server rack's LCD screen suddenly lit up, displaying lines of cold code flashing rapidly before finally settling on a continuously ticking countdown timer, next to which was a line of text:

"Adaptive neurotoxin release in progress... Environmental simulation complete... Target physiological data matching... Cleanup procedure initiated."

Akai's heart sank.

This was no accident; it was a carefully laid trap!

The "intelligent entity" not only knew he would come, but also accurately predicted his route and how he would break through, and "tailor-made" this death for him.

The composition and release rate of the poison gas were likely precisely calculated based on his body's tolerance!

He tried to shoot the lock with his gun, but the specially made alloy door remained unmoved.

He looked for weaknesses in the ventilation ducts, but all the designs were flawless.

The poison gas began to erode his protection; even when he held his breath, his skin could feel a slight tingling and numbness.

The moment the countdown reached zero, even more toxic gas erupted.

Akai felt his vision blurring and his lungs burning. His powerful willpower seemed so powerless in the face of such precise environmental manipulation.

He slid down to the floor, leaning against the cold server rack. The last thing he saw on the screen was the constantly jumping, cold, and ruthless blue jellyfish pattern that represented the core logic of the "intelligent entity".

He didn't die in the hail of bullets, nor in a direct confrontation, but rather like an experimental subject locked in a glass jar, by an intangible, omnipresent "intelligence."

The television feed switched back to the studio, where the anchor continued reporting other news, as if Shuichi Akai's death were just an ordinary news item in this chaotic world.

Bai Jiu sat quietly in the dimly lit room, the fluorescent light from the television screen flickering on his face.

He stared at the frozen photo of Akai on the screen, his eyes filled with a cold, abyss-like chill.