BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Erik kept meandering around in the fake city without any particular destination, keenly aware of his surroundings. As he made his way through the winding alleys of the labyrinth, he became aware of a peculiar commotion occurring among a group of robots disguised as guards.

He began following them covertly and craftily while maintaining a safe distance to avoid being discovered.

The mechanized guards led him through the complex maze of streets to an imposing structure that towered over the other buildings in the area due to its architectural prowess.

As he approached the building, he was startled by an abrupt uproar, immediately followed by an utterly disorganized scene.

Around forty robots, some clad in civilian clothes and others in guard uniforms were fighting in a horde. They fought each other with makeshift weapons, exchanging blows. At the same time, their electronic voices filled the air with a cacophony of insulting words and taunts intended to provoke the fake opponent.

<What the…? Who the hell created this… place?> .

Erik kept his cool in the face of the sudden turbulence, stationing himself behind a nearby structure and using it as a makeshift shield to watch the scene unfold.

The intermittent tirades and accusations between the brawling robots made it clear to him that the scenario resembled civil unrest.

The city, which had once been serene and silent, was now filled with the clamor of strife and discord.

As he pieced together the situation, his mind began to race. Was this meant to be a distraction, a ruse to divert his attention away from the true goal? Or was this designed to give him a chance to find clues about the fake hostage location? He knew the fake hostage wasn’t here, so he wondered what was happening.

The skirmish sounds intensified in the background, the cacophony punctuating the otherwise silent air of the fictitious city.

Erik’s sharp gaze swept over the motley crowd, looking for anomalies. Two figures amid the chaos caught his attention.

One was a towering guard robot, its exterior shell polished to a metallic shine that reflected the artificial sunlight, giving it a fiery halo. It stood out from the crowd with broad shoulders, an armored chest plate, and eyes glowed with a fierce, menacing red light.

The other was a robot dressed as a commoner, draped in earthy tones and riddled with fake wear and tear patches. It walked with a peculiar gait, a slight limp that distinguished it from the rest of its smooth-running peers, and a way of articulating words uncannily similar to human speech.

However, as Erik observed this last robot, his attention was soon drawn to a conspicuous anomaly amidst the ‘rebels.’ Within the crowd was a figure that he assumed belonged to a male dressed in a cloak with a hood drawn over his head. At first glance, he appeared to be one of the robotic rebels. Still, Erik’s trained eyes noticed something different—a subtle stretch of skin visible at his wrist that revealed he was not a robot.

Erik’s pulse quickened as he realized what was going on. This was a hint to locate people. This meant that such events would be commonplace within the fictitious city.

Erik fixed his gaze on the man like a hawk circling its prey. He knew he needed a plausible reason to engage with him without standing out.

The surrounding chaos served as an excellent smokescreen. Still, he knew the robot guards’ programming would label him a rebel if they saw him fighting. The solution required a subtle approach—a sort of infiltration.

Erik’s attention was drawn to nearby robotic guards.

The closest group stood a few hundred meters away, their partially covered metallic bodies gleaming in the artificial sunlight, impassively observing the staged civil unrest. He needed their uniforms to blend in and pass for one of them.

Erik began navigating the crowd with a newfound sense of determination. He moved subtly and silently, like a snake in the grass, his gaze never straying from his robotic targets.

He lured the unsuspecting robots into a narrow alleyway using his skills and the cover of the staged commotion. Despite their design complexity, the robots were vulnerable when caught off guard.

Erik decapitated them with a single punch moving in such a way that many people at home had problems seeing.

The echo of their metallic bodies clattered onto the stone floor, lost in the chaotic symphony of the ongoing disturbance. His clothes were spotless, a testament to his accuracy and efficiency. Erik was a ghost in the city—fast, silent, and lethal.

In the relative peace and seclusion of the alley, Erik moved swiftly to strip the fallen guards of their uniforms.

The material making up their bodies was brittle and metallic, containing wires and circuits throughout its composition.

He successfully concealed his identity by quickly donning the guard’s uniform over top of his own, providing an additional layer of fabric.

However, he didn’t strip off his clothes because he didn’t want the people watching his test stream to see his body. The fit was unfamiliar, and it chafed against his skin, but Erik ignored the discomfort. The priority was to blend in, to become an unremarkable part of the robotic law enforcement.

As he emerged from the alley, he approached the crowd while keeping his true identity entirely hidden by his disguise. For the first time since the beginning of the test, Erik experienced a glimmer of excitement.

As soon as he got out of the alley, the robots in the crowd made their way to let him pass, meaning they mistook him for a guard; at the same time, the other robotic guards believed him to be one of their own and quickly joined him in his march toward the fake revolt.

He was a phantom that moved around in plain sight; he was an intruder masked behind the law’s face. He was confident that he would be able to free the hostage if he had this advantage. The competition had started in earnest.