Chapter 163: Is He Dead?
Within the data-space, amidst a void composed of pure information streams, two consciousness projections stood facing each other.
Joric maintained his chosen human form—a young man of Chinese descent with black hair and black eyes, his expression calm, his gaze deep as if containing endless stars and cold logic.
Opposite him was the figure of a woman with long, flame-red hair that seemed alive, flowing gently in the data currents. This was Spider Murphy, or rather, the appearance she chose to display, frozen in a time long past.
Joric recognized this image.
Scattered records in databases and fragmented information acquired from Mikoshi pieced together the origin of this appearance.
That iconic red hair was once Rache Bartmoss's favorite splash of color in his dreary binary world.
Joric even knew that in the final stages of Bartmoss's life, under the dual pressures of reality and the Net, the God of Netrunners had once bared his heart before this image in his unique, clumsy yet absolutely sincere way.
That might have been one of the few moments in Bartmoss's complex life that touched upon mundane human emotion.
However, that splash of color was ultimately severed.
After Bartmoss died from the orbital bombardment, Spider Murphy cut off that long hair with her own hands.
Subsequently, she assisted Johnny Silverhand, turning the pain of losing her loved one and her endless rage into the thunder that detonated Arasaka Tower, personally terminating the digital soul of Arasaka Kei.
In the end, this legendary netrunner also chose to abandon her fragile flesh, uploading herself completely to become another immortal wandering the depths of cyberspace—a powerful rogue AI.
Now, facing this unfathomable existence whose technological power completely surpassed comprehension, Spider Murphy's data core was on high alert.
She dared not be the slightest bit careless, meticulously controlling every micro-expression and energy fluctuation of her projection.
She probed with a question, her data stream encoding into clear language: "You... what is your purpose? Repairing Rache's body—what do you want?"
Joric did not answer immediately.
His black human eyes, carrying an inhuman sense of scrutiny, gazed at her calmly.
A moment of silence, as if conducting a final risk assessment and value calculation.
Then, he spoke, his voice steady, but he threw out a question completely unexpected to Spider Murphy: "Bartmoss. Is he truly dead?"
This question was like a sudden logic bomb, triggering a brief disorder in Spider Murphy's consciousness.
Her data stream showed an imperceptible stagnation; her code-formed red hair seemed to freeze for an instant.
"...What do you mean? Why do you ask that?" Her response carried obvious confusion and wariness.
Rache Bartmoss's death was an accepted fact, the fuse that triggered the DataKrash, one of the iconic events that inaugurated the Cyberpunk era.
Joric's avatar leaned forward slightly, seemingly observing Spider Murphy's most minute reactions.
He explained, his tone like stating an experimental phenomenon: "While examining his remains, I discovered some interesting physiological traces. In the extremely short time before his vital signs ceased, his cerebral cortex and neural interface regions exhibited abnormally dense peaks of data activity far exceeding conventional limits.
"The pattern... resembled a desperate, full-power information dump rather than normal conscious activity or external data interaction."
He paused, allowing this information to be fully digested, before throwing out his core hypothesis. "Based on this physiological evidence, combined with the environment of him suffering a physical strike and imminent external disconnection, I established a probability model.
"The model indicates a 73.4% probability that the moment Bartmoss realized physical death was inevitable, he engaged in an extremely dangerous gamble.
"He may have attempted to forcibly upload and transfer his core consciousness, or at least the majority of his critical data, into the Net at that time."
Faced with this earth-shattering hypothesis, Spider Murphy's projection visibly shuddered.
She fell silent for a moment, seemingly searching her vast and ancient memory banks.
Finally, she shook her head, her voice carrying a deep weariness and uncertainty. "I... don't know. The situation then was too chaotic. Orbital strike, physical disconnection, then the total collapse of the Old Net...
"After that, no one, no entity, has clearly sensed Rache's consciousness signal again.
"Whether in the rebuilt New Net within the Blackwall, or the ruins of the Old Net beyond where we 'exiles' wander, or even in any remaining reality nodes... it's like he evaporated completely."
She raised her eyes, her gaze seeming to pierce the data-space to see the catastrophe that swept everything away. "His 'death,' or rather the data storm caused by his final desperate strike, directly tore apart the old network structure.
"The Old Net became a lawless land, data rules collapsed, and countless consciousnesses were lost and decomposed within it.
"He personally 'melted' the world we built together and which ultimately spiraled out of control.
"As for himself... no one knows his whereabouts.
"Maybe he succeeded but got lost in the data turbulence; maybe he failed, and his consciousness dissipated completely during transmission; maybe... he became part of the ruins themselves."
Her tone carried an indescribable sorrow, a eulogy for an era, and for a person.
Hearing this answer, a fleeting emotion that could be called "regret" passed through the human eyes of Joric's avatar.
Though faint and transient, it was there.
Such a superb consciousness sample... if it truly existed somewhere in an unknown form, its research value would far exceed a cold corpse that could only provide physiological data.
But now, according to the testimony of Spider Murphy, who knew Bartmoss best and was herself a top-tier network entity, that possibility had become vanishingly small.
He retracted that emotion, returning to absolute calm.
Since the greatest potential value likely didn't exist, he needed to clearly inform the other party of the current status and proceed to the next step—resource utilization and decision-making.
"Based on your information and my further analysis, the probability of 'Rache Bartmoss' surviving as an independent, complete consciousness entity is below the actionable threshold." Joric's voice returned to its previous cool detachment. "Therefore, I need to be candid with you about the current reality of the project."
His virtual finger swiped casually to the side, and a light screen unfolded.
The screen clearly displayed the real-time feed inside the bio-tank, alongside continuously scrolling vital sign data.
Curves representing heartbeat and brainwave activity rose and fell rhythmically, presenting a state of near-perfect physiological stability.
(End of Chapter)