BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Erik emerged from the alley, his figure a blur against the exquisitely painted backdrop of the fictitious city.

The energy in the arena was high, with the bustling ambiance of the city adding to the authenticity of the experience. The low hum of robotic chatter filled the air, punctuated by the artificial echoes of city life.

He moved through the crowd of robots, his eyes scanning the area for the ‘Jasmine House,’ where the hostage was said to have been last spotted. The white sun was now directly overhead, illuminating the city and raising the temperature by several degrees.

Despite the arena being a closed space, with many buildings inside, there was enough space so that a strong wind went through the alleys carrying a light scent of motor oil and a floral undertone with it.

Erik walked until he arrived at what he considered to be the main street. A robot in a simple tunic stood off to the side, its metallic face expressionless.

“Excuse me,” Erik said as he approached the figure, attempting to treat the robot as he would a person. ．𝙘𝙤𝙢

“Do you know where the Jasmine House is?” he inquired.

When the robot received the question, he responded in a synthetic voice, “Sorry, I don’t know where this place is.” Its monotonous tone stood in stark contrast to the vibrant cityscape around them.

<Oh, god, c’mon…> Erik thought in frustration.

“Thanks anyway,” Erik said as he exited the building.

The young man persisted in his pursuit, eventually stopping another robot after some time. He received the same response, “I don’t know.” He was getting more and more frustrated. The clock was ticking, and every second he wasted could affect his final score.

Erik pushed on, a determined glint in his eyes despite the next two robots’ disheartening responses. While searching for clues, he stopped at a fruit vendor stall. The robotic clerk was having a transaction with another of these fake citizens. The robot handed a bag with some pears inside, and as soon as it was free, Erik approached it and asked his question.

“The Jasmine House?” The fruit seller’s mechanical head tilted slightly, its voice mimicking thoughtfulness once it heard Erik’s question.

“Yes, indeed. The Jasmine House, a shop selling exotic flowers, where is it?” Erik added.

“If I’m not mistaken, it should be to the city’s south. Try seeing there…” The robot replied.

Erik’s face was flushed with relief. He thanked the robot and immediately departed. Erik already knew where the hostage was thanks to the biological supercomputer, but he had to pretend he didn’t and look for clues that would bring him there.

Of course, as soon as he got a good enough hint, he’d pretend to have a lucky break and head to the right place, or so was the plan. Everything hinged on what kind of clue he was going to get.

Erik turned south, his pace quickening as he embarked on the next leg of his mission. The city buzzed around him, oblivious to the fake drama taking place in its midst. His next destination was now clear: the Jasmine House.

The young man discovered the Jasmine House in the heart of the city’s southern part, nestled among the twisted labyrinth of narrow streets and multi-story buildings. The shop was a charming two-story building with a stone facade bathed in the warm hues of the sun.

The shop’s name was hand-painted on a wooden sign above the entrance, its letters golden written on top of a cobalt blue backdrop.

The shop windows were adorned with an array of brightly colored flowers, their vibrant hues complementing the rustic charm of the setting. There were also flower paints on the glass, giving the place a charming look.

Butterflies floated among the blooms, their wings gleaming in the simulated sunlight, and bees could be seen buzzing here and there to collect pollen.

The entrance was a cascade of purple and white wisterias, their petals dusted with a layer of faux dew and glistening like tiny crystals.

<So… this is the Jasmine House,> the young man thought as he stood before the structure.

He paused for a moment, standing at the Jasmine House’s threshold. A wave of floral scent washed over him as he pushed the ornate door open.

The rustling of leaves and petals from the plants filling to the brim of the shop’s surroundings drowned out the wooden door’s creaking as Erik opened it. As he stepped in, his boots echoed on the tile floor.

Under his mask, he looked around the interior, his gaze sharp and analytical. The shop had high ceilings on which rows and rows of plant pots were hanging above.

The floor was a complex mosaic of tiles worn and chipped over a long time. At least, this was what Erik thought was the goal of whoever made this setting by making the tiles look that way.

More sturdy shelves lined the walls, filled with flower pots of various sizes, creating an inviting atmosphere. The goal was to lure customers to get in.

The robotic florists, tending to the plants and rushing in and out of the shop as they were moving and watering plants, turned to look at Erik as he moved deeper inside. Their metallic bodies gleamed in the light, and the bulbs of their eyes shone with a soft, neutral light as they cared for their charges.

A winding staircase shrouded in artificial ivy beckoned at the room’s far end. The second floor couldn’t be seen. Erik didn’t have the need, but he bet more plants were there. The young man’s gaze lingered briefly on the staircase before returning to the rest of the shop.

His gaze was drawn to a figure who seemed out of place among the mechanized residents of the Jasmine House. She was hunched over a workbench in the shop’s corner while arranging flowers and pots.

Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she appeared in her mid-twenties. Her pale skin was lightly freckled, and her high cheekbones gave her an air of sophistication.

Her outfit was simple: a floral print dress that flowed down her ankles. A smudge of soil on her cheek gave her an earthy appearance.

Her hands moved with the fluidity, gracefulness, and precision of a seasoned florist. It was like she had done that job for many years.

Erik observed her as she delicately handled each stem and trimmed what needed removal.

She appeared oblivious to Erik’s presence, engrossed in her task despite the noise Erik made while he entered the building. He realized he’d found the person to give him the next lead.