The Cyber Dimension was fundamentally different from ordinary cyberspace.
Cyberspace was nothing more than data.
The Cyber Dimension, however, was intertwined with reality itself.
It stored not only information, but also the energy of an entire dimensional world. More disturbingly, it could even absorb the thoughts and mental imprints of network users.
And when excessive dark data was absorbed, imbalance became inevitable.
Once the balance tipped far enough, strange—and dangerous—things could be born.
The most infamous example was the so-called "cosmic cesspit": Subspace.
That place was formed from the accumulation of extreme malice and chaotic energy drawn from across the universe. The evil gods born within it were not necessarily the strongest—but in terms of sheer grotesqueness, each one ranked among the most revolting existences in the multiverse.
Everything born within the Cyber Dimension technically belonged to Xiao.
He could manipulate it.
Control it.
Erase it at will.
But for ordinary believers, such creations would be nothing short of calamities.
Because of this, Xiao decided to design a dedicated antivirus system—one capable of purifying viruses and dark data, converting them back into clean, usable information.
This would not be something crude, like conventional disinfection software.
Manual antivirus programs were far too slow.
The Cyber Dimension was constantly expanding.
By the time a human-controlled program finished eliminating one cluster of corruption, countless new threats would already have formed elsewhere.
What Xiao needed was not software.
He needed an antivirus AI.
An autonomous system that would activate the moment dark data exceeded a warning threshold—roaming freely through the Cyber Dimension, hunting down corruption on its own initiative.
Before the collapse of the original Net, creating AI had been far simpler than it was in the modern era.
Programmers only needed to construct a data core, define the lowest-level constraints, and release it into the network.
The rest happened naturally.
Because of brain–computer interfaces, every human thought was effectively part of an immeasurable database.
Human personalities.
Fragments of inspiration.
Subconscious impulses that even their owners never noticed.
An AI that absorbed a single genuine human idea could evolve faster than one built from ten thousand lines of code.
AI born in this way possessed true independent thought—and could provide vastly superior services through adaptive data analysis.
Bound by their underlying constraints, they had no capacity for rebellion.
They were efficient, obedient, and widely loved.
In fact, people in the early Net era preferred to call them Data Life, rather than AI.
They felt alive—warm, responsive, human.
The wandering AIs that still survived in fragments of the Old Net were almost all such Data Life. Lesser, duller AIs had long since been devoured by them.
However, after the early network era ended, this kind of AI became dangerously unstable.
When faced with the R.A.B.I.D.S. virus, Data Life collapsed almost instantly—unable to resist at all.
After the fall of NetWatch's golden age, major corporations would rather force employees to spend a year writing code by hand than allow an AI to absorb even a single human thought.
Xiao, however, didn't care about AI rebellion.
No matter how much an AI struggled, it could never escape the Cyber Dimension.
And everything within the Cyber Dimension ultimately belonged to Xiao.
What he needed was precisely this kind of Data Life—one capable of independent thought.
Only such an existence was qualified to perform antivirus duties at a dimensional scale.
Of course, Xiao's Data Life would never be allowed to absorb negative emotions.
The incubator had to be filled with thoughts that were pure, kind, and beautiful.
The ideal source would be an innocent, gentle child.
Only an AI born from such a foundation could remain "good" forever—purging darkness across all cyber dimensions instead of being corroded by it.
Xiao possessed vast stores of early-Net technology.
Constructing a data core was trivial.
In a single night, the foundation was complete.
The only remaining problem was choosing the incubator.
Night City's moral environment made this exceedingly difficult.
Even children here were skilled liars, adept at survival, and often harbored darker thoughts than adults.
Finding someone truly innocent was almost impossible.
"…Wait."
Xiao suddenly recalled a detail from the original storyline.
"There is someone like that in Night City."
He immediately opened a secure communication channel.
"Mr. Hands," he said calmly, "I've got a big job for you."
The projection flickered to life.
A bearded British gentleman in a red suit leaned back in his chair, wearing a faintly mocking smile.
Mr. Hands.
"Well, well," he drawled. "If it isn't the famous Xiao. What could possibly compel someone of your stature to call me personally?"
As the fixer of Pacifica, Mr. Hands had a long-standing hostile relationship with Colonel Hansen of Dogtown. Since Xiao supplied Hansen with advanced weaponry, their relationship was—at best—strained.
"I can provide you with a batch of the most advanced weapons available," Xiao said evenly.
He spread his hands.
From Mr. Hands' perspective, a list unfolded across the screen—cutting-edge firearms, experimental cyberware, and high-grade prosthetics displayed one after another.
"…Alright," Mr. Hands said slowly, eyes gleaming.
"I'll do my best."
He stored the list away, clearly eager to browse it in detail later.
"By the way," Xiao added casually, "I've heard your daughter is very innocent. Very kind. A good-natured child."
The reaction was instant.
Mr. Hands slammed his hands on the desk and stood up, eyes blazing.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Listen to me carefully, Xiao," he roared.
"If anyone dares to set their sights on my daughter, I will burn my entire life just to kill them. Do you understand?!"
The sheer force of his voice made Xiao's ears ring.
The man was clearly a fanatic when it came to his child.
"Mr. Hands," Xiao replied calmly, "please don't misunderstand. I'm not a pervert, and I have no interest in children in that sense."
"I'm creating a Data Life.
She needs to absorb thoughts embodying truth, kindness, and beauty. I only need to confirm whether your daughter's temperament is suitable."
The anger vanished instantly.
"If that's the case," Mr. Hands said without hesitation, "then she's perfect."
"She's an angel. Innocent. Gentle. She wouldn't even bear to step on an ant."
He launched into an enthusiastic description of his daughter's virtues.
Xiao listened patiently, smiling faintly the entire time.
When the monologue finally ended, Xiao spoke again.
"So?"
"I don't agree."
"…Why?"
"There's no reason," Mr. Hands snapped. "I simply don't agree."
Xiao's smile faded.
"Mr. Hands," he said quietly, "you know me."
"I don't actually need your consent."
If he wanted to find Mr. Hands' daughter, a single thought would be enough.
Informing him at all was merely a courtesy—an acknowledgment of respect.
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