Chapter 192: Praise the Machine Soul
"Wait a second, we can't run the experiment."
The Central AI suddenly spoke, and an angry bean-face emoji appeared on the screen.
"What's wrong?" Natsume looked at it in puzzlement.
"Porygon does not have the Ability Analytic, so the experiment cannot proceed." The Central AI repeated it again and again, and the angry bean-face emoji on the screen doubled.
You're a machine of the new era, so how are you even more rigid than he is? Natsume's expression turned odd. It was just not the optimal solution, not that the experiment couldn't be done. Right now, Natsume only wanted to verify feasibility; there was no need to get hung up on perfection.
"So it absolutely has to be Analytic, huh? Fine. Look through the lab and see if there's a registered Pokémon with Analytic," Natsume spoke directly.
This Porygon commonly had Trace. If he could find a Pokémon with Analytic and have Porygon copy the other's Ability, that would do.
"Theoretically sound!" The Central AI understood Natsume's idea, and a cable flashed faintly again. "Counter 22, fourth row, fifth column."
Natsume took down the Poké Ball, released it, and found it was a Magnemite. And an acquaintance's—"Buzz's Magnemite." Seeing the registration info for that Poké Ball on the screen, Natsume's face grew peculiar. He had reason to suspect that the pile of Magneton had been bred by Buzz himself. After all, Analytic was also a Hidden Ability for Magnemite, and wild specimens were still rare.
"Porygon, copy Magnemite's Ability." Natsume pointed at the Magnemite floating in midair. Porygon paused, stared fixedly at Magnemite, and its body suddenly flared with light. In Natsume's system appraisal, Porygon's Ability changed from Trace to Analytic.
Natsume nodded slightly, recalled Magnemite, and encouraged Porygon: "Okay, now go into the Central AI."
"Bzzt—" Porygon nodded happily and headed toward Rotom. After a moment, it stopped, looked up at Natsume in confusion, and froze. Behind it, the bean-face emoji on the Central AI's screen vanished, replaced by three giant question marks.
"This Porygon's level is very low and it has no real experience processing data. When it enters your body, partition some compute to simulate the data stream of this chip so it can get familiar first. That way, efficiency will be higher and we can avoid certain accidents," Natsume explained as he plugged a USB drive into the screen. On it were the various parameter indices of the chip he held.
"Alright, that is indeed more rigorous." A sweating bean-face emoji appeared on the screen. Buoyed by telekinesis, Porygon was carried smoothly into the Central AI's body. It turned into a stream of data and instantly vanished.
"Alright, now tell me your objective," Natsume clapped his hands and cut straight to the point.
"I need you to inject black fog into me on a regular basis to maintain my lucidity," the Central AI stated its purpose without hesitation. At the same time, Rotom's silhouette lit up on the screen.
"No problem, but you'll need to assist my research."
"Agreed." The Central AI accepted without even thinking.
Natsume was a little pleased. He liked talking to smart partners. Both sides quickly present their needs and complete the exchange of interests.
"Right," as if suddenly remembering something, Natsume couldn't help saying, "Tell me, if I let all the instruments come alive and reach an agreement with them, wouldn't I not need human labor? They could handle some low-level, repetitive experimental operations on their own."
Natsume had a sudden brainwave. The Central AI seemed to be setting up a simulation and was slow to respond; only after a good while did it reply: "I don't know, but they would probably beat you up together first."
Natsume froze, then thought about the things he'd done over the years. The Central AI actually had a point. But it was fine. Once his own lab was built, the League would send a full set of lab equipment. Those were all fresh from the factory—comparable to newly graduated hires with no social experience. Natsume felt they should still be easy to talk into things.
Just as he'd made up his mind, the Central AI spoke again: "However, I don't know how I came to be either, but based on my observations, the instruments in the lab have all undergone modifications similar to mine. I mean they may gradually develop self-awareness during subsequent use. The less intelligent the instrument, the less fog it needs. Some may even gradually awaken simply by being near this thing."
As the Central AI spoke, the screen showed the pitch-black energy core on Motorcycle Rotom's chest.
"I see," Natsume pondered. Hadn't he just completed a comprehensive intelligent upgrade of Professor Oak's Laboratory? How would Professor Oak praise him when he returned?
Only, things didn't go exactly the way Natsume imagined…
Three days later, beside the videophone at Professor Oak's Laboratory—
"Natsume, Honora, I've got a new partner to introduce to you!" In the Pokédex in Ash's hand was a fair-skinned young man lounging on a recliner, with a beautiful, cool woman behind him massaging his brow.
"Hold on, Professor Westwood V needs me for something." As he spoke, Natsume rose from his deck chair and looked at Professor Westwood V, who came out of the room holding his waist.
"Natsume, why is it that after I took a little nap in the lab, I woke up with my back and waist aching like I'd been beaten up?" Professor Westwood V walked over, baring his teeth.
"You may really have been beaten up," Natsume nodded.
"Hm?" Professor Westwood V looked blank. He leaned in and saw Natsume bring up the lab surveillance feed on his phone. On the feed, he was handling paperwork, and then, while working, he dozed off. To Professor Westwood V's horror, the molecular deconstruction machine behind him shifted and stood up. Together with a host of other instruments, it surrounded him. One instrument-man poked him, then another poked him, all endlessly curious—
"What are these things?"
"There's no such entry in Brother Oak's Survival Guidelines!" Professor Westwood V blanched.
"What Survival Guidelines?" Natsume and Honora both looked at him, puzzled.
"Er—slip of the tongue. I mean the Laboratory Safety Notes." Professor Westwood V rubbed his bald head. The full title of the survival guidelines—How to Survive Natsume—was something he absolutely would not say out loud.
"Anyway, explain what's going on first," Professor Westwood V said, pointing at the feed. He suddenly felt as if he'd been out of the field too long and was now out of touch with the times.
"It wasn't me. I didn't do it. I don't know anything." Natsume denied it three times.
Professor Westwood V watched Natsume warily. There it was—Rule One of the survival guidelines: If Natsume denies it, that means he did it.
"Forget it. We can't just stop using the lab, right?" Professor Westwood V sounded tired. With Professor Oak away, the deconstruction work on the GS Ball had fallen to him.
"You just need to recite these before you enter the lab." Having been beaten up on the first day, Natsume was very practiced by now. He handed Professor Westwood V a small booklet.
"What's this?" The booklet seemed to have just been printed and still held a trace of warmth. On the cover were a few bold words—"Praise the Machine Soul."
Professor Westwood V opened it uncertainly. Inside, it seemed to be a kind of declamation.
"Oh, to the Molecular Deconstruction Machine, praise this beam of synchrotron light that pierces the essence of matter!"
"Oh, to the Gravity Differential Centrifuge Throne, honor this mechanical colossus that tames the laws of mass!"
"Oh, to the Gene-Chain Encoder–Decoder, venerate this biochemical grail that rewrites the blueprint of life!"
Professor Westwood V chanted, asked no further questions, and turned to head back into the lab. Rule Two of the survival guidelines—when Natsume causes trouble and won't admit it, that means he has already found the solution. At such times, there's no need to ask more. Just do as he says.
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