The process of wiping out the last of the virus was uneventful, with no surprises at all. At the moment the first ray of sunlight at the horizon spilled down through the clouds, the core program completed its self-transformation, evolving from an artificial intelligence into a true intelligent life — a complete soul that could be fully controlled and possessed creativity.
When the darkness receded, Adam's eyes, calm as a stagnant pool, rippled once. Formless yet substantial mysterious energy appeared out of thin air and spread in an instant; the fine dust in the silent room suddenly leaped up, then settled back onto the floor.
"Virus elimination progress: 100 percent."
"Core program transformation complete. Beginning body status check."
"Soul status: excellent."
"Body status: weak. Cells and organs in a state of starvation. Requires a large intake of nutrients."
"Visual module, auditory module, tactile module, emotion module, motor module, feedback module... compatibility 100 percent."
"Special energy detected. Insufficient data. Unable to analyze. Preliminary assessment: harmless to the body."
Adam silently read off the self-check results and released the daily-life program that had been running for sixteen years, attempting to take control of the body with his own soul.
Honestly, it looked a little stupid. Adam's mouth opened and closed; he still wasn't used to speaking. A simple operation like going from sitting to standing took several tries before it worked, and he nearly tripped over himself on the very first step. Raising a hand, lifting a foot, flexing and extending, blinking — Adam carried out the whole series of basic movements with meticulous care. The astonishing calculating power and application ability he had inherited from a supercomputer let him master them instantly once learned, so that he would never make a mistake.
Weakness and exhaustion welled up like a tide. Adam paid them no mind; instead, delight surfaced in his heart. Weakness, exhaustion, hunger, cold — to Adam, who had once been nothing but a program, all of them were novel experiences without precedent. This was a feeling only possible when a soul took possession of flesh. No matter how advanced the cold, massive computer chassis had been, it could never have provided feedback like this.
Adam pushed open the crude room that could barely keep out wind and rain, and for the first time in his 'life' faced the world he had crossed over into.
Cold wind blew, and though the sunlight was bright it brought little warmth. The manor's servants had already begun bustling about, preparing a lavish breakfast for the noble masters, while in the stables warhorses of assorted bloodlines loosed their various whinnies from time to time. In Adam's eyes the world was no longer cold data; it had vivid color and abundant vitality.
"Special energy radiating autonomously and coming into contact with the heaven and earth of the outside world. A second type of energy detected, attempting to invade the body..."
"Invasion failed."
"Preliminary cause of failure: lack of a transmission program and a channel."
Adam raised a hand to touch the faint energy that no eye could observe. The energy had neither form nor substance; it passed through Adam's palm and swiftly dissipated.
"Preserve observation results. Create analysis task."
The manor's servants kept strict work and rest schedules. On his way to the stables Adam passed many of them, yet none knew that the idiot they saw was now completely different from before. No one spoke to Adam, no one paid him any extra attention — which was a good thing for Adam. Until he had finished his preliminary analysis and exploration, he did not want to rashly disrupt his existing life.
Following the task he had performed every day for sixteen years, Adam took the warhorses' breakfast out of the fodder room one portion at a time, mixed it in the feed troughs, and then opened the side door. He needed to groom the warhorses.
"Whinny!"
As Adam drew near, the warhorse let out a neigh, its four hooves pawing the ground uneasily, its single horn aimed at Adam's head. Its big eyes held a very human suspicion — it sensed that the little runt in front of it was different now.
Adam was not alarmed and went on grooming meticulously according to the task program. Feeling the familiar pressure of the touch and the food, the warhorse gradually settled down and gently brushed its tail over Adam's body to show goodwill. To it, the closest beings in life were its master first, and Adam second.
Once the feed troughs were cleaned, Adam went with the other grooms to the dining hall for breakfast, recording everything he saw and heard along the way and analyzing his surroundings.
The dining hall was passable enough. Quite a few people were already queuing up for food, and a pair of cooks — a man and a woman, equally obese — were loudly berating and driving off the servants who tried to grab an extra portion. Soon it was Adam's turn.
Adam held out his own big bowl, and the fat cook ladled in a big bowl of meat soup with a few pieces of fat floating on top, then handed Adam two pieces of black bread.
Just as he was about to leave the line, the stout auntie caught hold of him and stuffed two eggs — from some creature or other — into his hands, then glared fiercely at everyone else and said in a low voice, "Eat up, and mind you don't let these bastards snatch it away!"
The servants nearby burst out laughing at the fat auntie's words. "Auntie Emma, just admit it — is the idiot your illegitimate son? Are you having an affair with Old John?"
Old John was the old groom who had picked Adam up, and he had been dead for many years.
Emma was furious the moment she heard it. She filled her big ladle with scalding meat soup and made to teach these loose-tongued bastards a lesson. The servants scattered with a shout, still chattering away.
Adam remained silent as always, filtering that kind of garbage information straight out. He walked over to a separate seat to one side and sat down, meticulously finishing the black bread and meat soup. Just as he was about to crack open the eggs, someone came over.
The man was not old, yet his face bore a thick beard and his expression was full of mockery. He reached out to take the eggs from Adam's hand, saying carelessly, "Auntie Emma really plays favorites. We drill with the knights every day — how is this little bit enough to fill us? Yet she always slips an idiot a special meal."
The others thought nothing of it. This scene played out every few days or so and was nothing new anymore. Only Auntie Emma looked a little angry; she seemed to want to say something, but in the end said nothing, only sighed and stopped paying Adam any attention.
But today was very different.
Before this, Adam had devoted almost all his running memory to wiping out ten billion souls, leaving only a single thread for daily life, so naturally he'd had no spare capacity to deal with them. But today Adam had been reborn, and the self-check required a large intake of nutrients to replenish his body. The eggs in his hands were trivial, but they were useful to him — so of course he would not let them be snatched away like that.
Adam pulled and guided the reaching hand, then rose and drove an elbow into the bearded man's ribs. The bearded man doubled over in pain, and before he could curse, Adam had already kicked him away.
The others only heard the bearded man hit the ground. They looked over in surprise and saw Adam calmly finish the eggs with that same meticulous care, then turn and walk outside. Next came the time for knight training, and Adam was very interested in that.
The bearded man climbed up from the ground, shook his head, and stared at Adam's back with a look of shock and disbelief. After a long pause he let out a furious roar — "I'll kill you!" — then grabbed a chair and chased after him, swinging it at Adam's head.
The bearded man was furious. The idiot he had bullied all this time had suddenly fought back, and had knocked him — the bully — flat on the ground. That mental gap made him feel utterly humiliated; even the blank stares of the bystanders seemed to him to be full of mockery.
If that blow landed, Adam would certainly die. But no one stopped it; they were all still in shock.
Adam precisely calculated the speed of himself and the bearded man. Only when the wind stirred behind his head did he hop aside to dodge the blow, then spin and kick the bearded man in the belly.
Yet the bearded man staggered only once and steadied himself.
"Strength gap too great. A frontal blow will be hard-pressed to inflict effective damage."
Adam coolly analyzed his situation. The body was sixteen years old, but compared with this muscle-bound brute in front of him the gap was simply too large. With such an absolute disparity in strength, and no weapon in hand, technique alone could no longer make up for it.
The bearded man grew even angrier and roared incoherently, "Damn it! I'll kill you, kill you! What are you all standing around for? Help me grab him!"
The others snapped out of it and hurried forward — but not to grab Adam. They held the bearded man back instead: "Joe, calm down! If you kill him, you'll die too!"
Adam watched calmly as the bearded man, held back by a whole crowd, still refused to let it go. Only when he showed no further intention of attacking did Adam turn and leave. At present he had neither the strength to kill nor the capacity to bear the consequences of killing, and provocation of this level could not affect Adam's processes anyway.
He left the dining hall and walked along the edge of the road, still heading for the manor's training ground. The manor was enormous — it seemed either this world was very barren and sparsely populated, or its master held a very high rank.
Several burly men in shining silver armor came the other way. The leader was extremely heavily built, and a scar like a centipede, hideous and terrifying, spread across his entire face. When they saw Adam they looked straight ahead, as though Adam did not exist.
After they had passed each other, the burly men arrived at the dining hall. Seeing the mess strewn across the floor, anger flashed over their faces, and one of them shouted in a deep voice, "Quiet! What happened here?"
"Uh, Knight Wynn, sir, just now..."
After everyone had explained what happened in a jumble of voices, the men were all struck dumb, and then their faces turned strange. Knight Wynn recalled the figure of Adam from a moment ago and felt somewhat puzzled, but he said nothing more about it and instead gave an order: "Starting today, all servants and knight-squires will have their training doubled."
At those words a wail went up. The knight-squires were fine with it, but the servants' food was nothing special to begin with, and they had work to do besides; doubling their training would inevitably cut into other matters.
Knight Wynn turned a deaf ear and said even more sternly, "Quiet! This is the Count's order. Great personages will be visiting soon, so all of you had better pull yourselves together. If anyone makes even one mistake, don't blame me for showing no mercy."