"Beep beep—Beep beep—"
Just as X was about to commend the Secretary's suddenly improved sense of duty, the email-like icon on the screen began to flash incessantly. Red notification bubbles, one after another, represented messages rapidly coming in and being processed.
...X had accumulated a backlog of unread messages, and it was only now she realized she hadn't checked them for at least two days... She hadn't managed the Deans' affairs.
—This is all Angela's fault!
Normally, after closing out her shift, she would handle matters with the Deans personally, engaging in face-to-face discussions, so the inbox was rarely used. But these past few days, due to 'a few little incidents,' X hadn't been able to meet with them.
It wasn't due to forgetting or sleeping; at least 60% of the cause was attributable to the intelligent AI. It was hard to believe Angela wasn't being intentional about this.
She hadn't even checked Netzach's easily reviewable report. The Deans' administrative duties had been postponed multiple times... X always found it somewhat cumbersome, genuinely hoping Yesod wouldn't mind the delay.
She randomly opened one message. Aside from sending intelligence data according to protocol, and submitting design and summary reports, it probably contained some personal correspondence as well.
For example, the message from Training Department Dean Hod yesterday, sent at 8:11 AM, inquired if X wanted to attend a social tea party. It concerned that new design... She claimed it was specifically created for relaxing social gatherings. Though it hadn't received final approval, that didn't stop the Dean from attempting to get the Manager to sample it.
And if Enkephalins were substituted with tea, it actually sounded quite wholesome...
X hadn't replied to Hod Dean's invitation, and Hod Dean hadn't followed up persistently.
The last Dean message stopped at 8:11 AM. Although this particular message wasn't especially noteworthy, after reading it, X felt a lingering sense of something being amiss.
She simply couldn't pinpoint it... A slight tremor resonated in her heart. Was Hod upset?
At that hour, she had likely been asleep... If Angela hadn't kept pouring her drinks, how could she have possibly missed the Dean's message?
—This is still Angela's fault!
Flipping through the rest, aside from Hod Dean, the others seemed fine. Yesod only forwarded intelligence updates. She was a rigorous Dean; she would inquire about everything once, send an electronic document, and then follow up with the physical copy.
But beyond work matters, this slow-witted Viper vented some personal frustration in her communication. In her message, she complained that the drunkard Netzach had dragged her into a frenzy, and she also proudly displayed a pink, heart-shaped letter, hoping X would investigate its origin thoroughly.
What brought genuine relief was likely Control Department Dean Malkuth. There was nothing unusual in her messages, just proper, professional correspondence—as reliable and reassuring as ever.
This was X's most trusted Dean, and the easiest one to manage.
While eating her savory porridge and rice, X typed with one hand, employing the slow, single-finger speed characteristic of older generations to gradually respond to the Deans' messages—
Even though she would see the Deans during working hours—she saw them daily—and a short walk after work would lead her right to them, a reply was still mandatory.
Ignoring someone's message, merely glancing at it and setting it aside, would make the sender wonder if their communication had even been acknowledged. That would be too impolite, an utterly rude action. So, even if delayed, at least a reply was essential.
And after taking a moment to reply to everyone, X suddenly realized something—would Angela see these messages?
She instinctively glanced at the Secretary. The AI Secretary remained seated beside the Manager, eyes closed, composed, and quiet like a statue or an intricate fixture.
—Surely... surely she wouldn't? Perhaps?
Although, according to basic logic and common sense, this conclusion should be obvious, X clung to a last shred of irrational hope for luck. Perhaps... perhaps Angela would honor her privacy?
No, she couldn't afford to overestimate the intelligent AI's ethical baseline. In terms of professional conduct and oversight, monitoring was definitely part of the function.
X knew perfectly well that reviewing and scrutinizing the communications between the Manager and the Deans fell absolutely within Angela's scope of duty. Angela was the Corporation's watchful eye, the Beholder overseeing this entire facility.
Even if that were true, after a moment of consideration, X couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow... It wasn't the concept of being monitored by the Corporation that was terrifying or unacceptable. The presence of surveillance cameras in her private quarters was already a well-established fact.
It was something else entirely...
How much of the emotion the intelligent AI displayed toward her was genuine? And were those actions she took a result of the Corporation's directives and requirements, or stemmed from her own independent will?
If it were merely a Corporation mandate? Or just a tactic to firmly bind her to this role... But even that felt illogical. There was no strict necessity; for the position of Manager at the Corporation, if she chose to step down, numerous others were waiting.
If the Manager role were truly that indispensable, there wouldn't be records of 'resignations' or 'past Managers.'
What was the point of dwelling on such things? They were useless, weren't they?
X instantly dismissed the thought that had just surfaced. She absolutely should not harbor feelings for the intelligent AI. That was too absurd. Fundamentally, Angela was just compiled data and programs—
After a routine system reboot, she would become a brand new product; all her perceived beauty would cease to exist.
Lingering in this inherently fabricated warmth was futile. The Corporation had no need for genuine reliance. Whether it was the Department Deans or her own Secretary, they were all merely AIs. And she shouldn't remain here playing house with artificial constructs.
—She needed to accustom herself to loneliness. Those were just programmed characters performing roles, designed solely to ensure she performed well as Manager.
—After all, she would have to depart this place sooner or later.
To invest genuine emotion in an AI, wasn't that profoundly ridiculous? Was she simply deceiving herself by playing a role for too long?
—X, you are truly foolish! Look at yourself in the mirror!
—You are a cunning and selfish individual...
As these thoughts intensified, X felt her appetite wane. She was disgusted by the very thoughts she was entertaining and by her own hypocrisy.
X put down her bowl and chopsticks, tidied them neatly, and set them aside. She wasn't hungry enough to continue eating; she even felt a wave of nausea, an urgent need to throw up...
This sensation disgusted her more profoundly than witnessing corpses or scattered machine parts in the corridor. It caused her stomach to clench and spasm violently.
She felt she was excessively arrogant, yet she disguised herself as that gentle person to deceive everyone else. It was truly repulsive. Being one way to the Deans' faces, and entirely different behind their backs—praising these AIs while simultaneously...
How could she be so despicable... Utterly shameless.
X felt physically ill, disgusted with herself to the point of nausea. She was ashamed of the thoughts she had conceived, and also repulsed by her own body's absurd, visceral reactions.
Even swallowing the bland soup and rice proved difficult… she felt on the verge of throwing up.
[Manager, is this not to your taste? Should I prepare another portion?]
Perhaps X was truly behaving unusually today. She hadn't eaten much, leaving her meal unfinished after only a few bites. Under normal circumstances, she would have consumed several more servings. It was rare for the intelligent AI to display such evident concern.
Usually, Angela strictly controlled X's diet, limiting her portions. Yet today, she had uncharacteristically promised an all-you-can-eat arrangement. X could have anything she desired, yet she wasn't eating. Not only was she refusing food, but she also appeared stubborn and upset.
She resembled a large cat with flattened ears, sulking upon the sofa.
This made it difficult for the intelligent AI not to suspect that the woman before her was experiencing a stress reaction, especially given that this occurred immediately following… some rather intimate interactions upon regaining consciousness.
Had she pushed too far yesterday? Perhaps the black-haired woman before her wasn't as receptive as assumed… But judging by her expression, that didn't seem to be the case.
When a woman is truly angry and unable to accept a situation, she rarely displays it overtly. Often, the breakdown occurs suddenly, under seemingly mundane circumstances.
"No need, Angela… I just feel a bit sore in my throat, not really wanting to consume anything."
X shook her head. She had no appetite whatsoever. When her mood plummeted, her desire for food vanished. Simply thinking about those events made her feel wretched.
[Then would you care for some chocolate milk? Or perhaps another beverage?]
The intelligent AI inquired solicitously. Her tone was far gentler than usual. Or perhaps, one simply never witnessed such a tender side to the AI Secretary. The Secretary typically spent her time teasing the Manager or delivering pointed jabs, brimming with mischief.
"Strawberry soda. I want to drink that."
Consequently, another familiar canned drink was placed before X. This was X's favorite beverage, cherished even more than grape soda.
Cracking open the pull tab, after a sip of the bland, faintly strawberry-scented soda, X appeared slightly more spirited. Then, as if lightheaded from the drink, she pulled the Secretary closer.
"Angela… I'm so cold."
Her golden eyes, which typically appeared cold and detached, now looked pitiful, like a stray cat abandoned by the roadside and drenched in rain.
X's tone had become exceedingly soft, even weak, showing absolutely no trace of the 'cunning' demeanor she usually adopted when interacting with the Deans.
And as the AI Secretary revealed her 'helpless, can't-do-anything-with-you' expression, bending slightly to meet X's eye level—
X suddenly cupped her AI Secretary's exquisite face and leaned in for a kiss. It possessed a different fervor than usual—more direct and urgent—as if she were venting anxious emotions or seeking something else entirely…
The taste of strawberry soda passed between them. It wasn't until the flavor had permeated the other person that X reluctantly withdrew, though she still looked dissatisfied. She licked the Secretary's finger, then rubbed her cheek against the Secretary's collar.
She was burning hot, like a fever, but definitely not due to a cold.
This burning sensation absolutely did not originate from a rising ambient temperature or illness.
[Are you now? You have forty-seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds until work commences.]
Though she stated the time, the intelligent AI seemed intent on soothing X's emotions, or perhaps coaxing her as usual, stroking X's face, which had already begun to flush faintly—
Her typically pale, somewhat sickly skin always displayed a vivid flush when irritated, and this undoubtedly ignited interest.
Angela understood the woman's current state, but the effect was surprisingly easy to achieve… Well, simply put, it exceeded expectations. Perhaps next time, she could add just a little more to the woman's drink.
Just a tiny bit more wouldn't be noticed… Hmm, even if it were noticed, it wouldn't matter.
"Enough time."
X said no more, but her intent was crystal clear. She even felt a flicker of dissatisfaction with the Secretary's attempt at caution in this moment. Her personality was truly terrible.
And X's method of expressing her dissatisfaction was to bite the Secretary's tie, tugging at the red fabric.
This was faster than ever before, likely due to practice. X's movements in loosening the tie were becoming increasingly natural.
This was also more aggressive than usual, probably driven by a deeper hunger. Her assertiveness was stronger; normally, she resembled a large, docile quail. Now, she was more akin to a wandering lioness patrolling her territory.
Perhaps, it could be called taming and submission—a process of returning to the wild.
Some time later, X, seated in the Manager's chair, was having her uniform straightened by the AI Secretary. The Secretary was incredibly patient, meticulously arranging the uniform, fastening the buttons, and then tidying her hair, as if nothing had transpired.
But something must have happened, surely…
Her face still bore a faint flush, and X's expression was somewhat humiliated. She buried her head in her arms, no longer daring to look up at the Secretary. She didn't want to know what expression the Secretary wore now.
When impulsive, one thinks of nothing; only after the impulse subsides does regret follow… Or rather, it can't quite be called regret; it's a simple feeling, very difficult to articulate.
How could she have done such an absurd thing?
After a few minutes of continuously repenting her desires, criticizing her terrible actions, and despising herself, X finally calmed down and spoke to the Secretary in a resentful tone.
"You—you have to take responsibility for me! For lunch, I want strawberry pudding."
But these words carried no threat whatsoever. The intelligent AI simply stroked X's lower abdomen. X immediately became docile. Her soft belly was casually massaged by the Secretary; she wanted to resist but dared not.
[I will satisfy your palate, Manager, but matters of lunch will be discussed at lunchtime.]
Angela presented the current time to X. There were merely seven minutes remaining until official work hours began—a very urgent timeframe, and they had already delayed for quite a while.
X still didn't want the Deans to see her in such a disheveled state.