NOVEL NEXT Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Death or Rebirth? That's the Question
"Really, was it necessary to exert so much force? If my pain module hadn't malfunctioned, I might have passed out from the pain."
"It doesn't exist. Under normal circumstances, a doll's pain module doesn't affect its operational capabilities," M1 Garand said as she hugged her imprinted weapon, cleaning the barrel and chamber with an oil cloth and a cleaning rod.
The disassembled parts were placed in a nearby box, rattling as the vehicle bumped along.
"Hmph, now you understand again. I wonder who was standing outside the car earlier, foolishly bidding farewell to the commander?" Simonov, lying on the ammunition box, teased as she saw M1 Garand calm down.
"I-I just..." M1 Garand blushed instantly at the sore spot being poked.
"Hmph, don't just 'just.' You clearly didn't see through the intentions of those Griffin employees. Miss Helian said it herself, everything in the base can be taken freely. Isn't it obvious that we're also considered 'things'?"
"Plus, those Griffin personnel didn't even pay attention to us, treating us like air. If Renault hadn't called us to move things, we'd probably still be standing there until the end of time, or waiting for orders until the headquarters' evacuation helicopter arrived."
"Uh, Simonov, your words make it sound like the commander and Griffin were engaged in some shady deal..." BM59, holding her gun, attempted to maintain it like M1 Garand. Unfortunately, this weapon wasn't her imprinted weapon, and she barely knew how to disassemble and assemble it.
"Yeah, it sounds like human trafficking," Simonov lay on the box, tilting her head back and forth, her soft cheeks deforming repeatedly against the surface, tempting one to pinch them.
"Uh, it shouldn't be that bad...Simonov, you're really hurting my feelings with that," M1911 blushed instantly. With that said, Commander Renault was starting to resemble some colonialist from the Age of Discovery.
"Alright, at most, we're just Doll traffickers. After all, aren't we all produced by IOP? If worst comes to worst, we'll just be resold. I have that much awareness," Simonov said.
As she spoke, Simonov attempted to flip over, but failed. The weight of her four wheels made it difficult for her to turn over, especially in her current position, wedged directly onto the ammunition box.
"Speaking of which, I remember seeing on TV at the headquarters before, in some areas, there were indeed people who illegally captured and dismantled dolls to sell for money." Hearing this, BM59 felt a sense of foreboding, fearing she might suffer the same fate one day.
"Hey, don't suddenly bring up such scary things!" M1911 shuddered at the thought, naturally having heard of such things. Just like most humans feared ghosts, dolls had an additional fear - unscrupulous merchants who would dismantle them for parts.
"Hey, what's there to be afraid of? Being dismantled into parts is still considered fortunate. The worst should be having your neural core directly formatted and replaced with a different personality," Simonov said involuntarily as she attempted to wave her hand, only to have her wheels spin.
Silence.
Even M1 Garand, who had been focused on maintaining her weapon, inexplicably became nervous at this moment. If dismantled, there was still a chance for the mental core to survive, but if the neural core was directly formatted... Wouldn't that be a surefire death?
Huh? Death? After a doll dies, shouldn't they be remanufactured using a backup neural cloud...
At the same time, the T-Dolls who had been busy with their respective tasks all stopped at this moment, seemingly pondering over this unfamiliar term that had never appeared in their neural cloud before.
Or perhaps they were contemplating whether remanufacturing after dolls death was a form of rebirth...
...
Sitting in the driver's seat, responsible for driving, Renault naturally had no idea what philosophical or scientific questions were running through the minds of the dolls behind him. He was currently driving while deliberating where exactly he should go next.
According to the map obtained from Griffin, several towns and cities with inhabited areas and Griffin strongholds were marked. Most of them were located in green zones, with Griffin bases dominating the yellow zones, but without human settlements.
To operate in a yellow zone, humans must have complete protective gear, and thorough disinfection is required when entering or leaving residential areas. Plus, with many infected individuals active in the yellow zones, few survivors would choose to live in such harsh environments unless absolutely necessary.
Of course, the yellow zones wouldn't be as instantly overwhelmed by infected individuals as the town Renault had left before, where the armed forces were pitifully few, combined with the strange fluctuations of the collapsing particle cloud, causing the infected to surge rapidly.
Otherwise, the former mayor spending a fortune on something like a purification tower could have ensured the survival conditions of that town.
Unfortunately, no one could explain the fluctuations of the collapsing particle cloud, and the infected came too quickly, the townspeople transformed too quickly, and everything happened too fast to stop.
Certainly, a yellow zone wouldn't be Renault's first choice. Even though he wasn't like ordinary humans and could survive in radiation without protective gear, the environment in the yellow zone was too harsh.
Finding supplies in such a place would be a challenge, let alone spending the money he had. Who knows if the survivors living in the yellow zone even recognize currency.
Departing from Griffin's S13 zone base, he would have to pass through the mountains to reach the first supply point Renault favored, which was certainly still far from Griffin headquarters, but at least it would be entering a green zone.
Heading west from S13 would lead to S11, east to S12, and north to the larger Sangvis Ferri-dominated S09.
It seemed that Griffin intended to develop some less severely polluted areas into new territories, but unfortunately, things didn't go as planned. With the pollution worsening here, even the activities of humanoids would be affected, let alone living people.
Once the equipment is in place in the future, Griffin might return, but at least not now.
Bang! Bang!
"Wake up, ladies! Don't ponder philosophical questions there. If you have time to think about these meaningless things, you might as well look at the scenery outside. Nagant Revolver, play some music on the stereo system in the car. It's all heavy metal."