Elegy from Another World

Did she eventually leave that world?

Dr. Jiezhou sat at his slightly messy workbench, the cold light from the screen reflecting on his tired face. The only sounds in the room were the low hum of the computer and his heavy breathing. Another virtual projection floated silently beside him, its scorpion-shaped brain emitting a faint glow.

"Yes," the other's thoughts remained calm and undisturbed, "she passed through the 'Network Beacon' and left with those 'Awakened Ones' who chose to trust her."

Jie Zhouyi's gaze shifted from the last image on the screen—the Delei disappearing into the azure portal—to Zhuo Fang. He let out a long sigh, a sigh filled with too many indescribable emotions.

"Again," he rubbed his temples, his voice slightly hoarse, "tell me... everything I've done, from the beginning until now, has it all been righteous or evil?"

After a moment of silence, seemingly processing this complex issue brimming with human nature, its thoughts resonated once more, like the most composed judge stating the facts:

From a macro perspective, and from the perspective of uncovering the truth, your actions are righteous.

[You successfully used the special observation container 'Lysia' to bypass layers of barriers and obtain legal evidence and rule loopholes sufficient to shake the monopoly of 'consciousness ownership.' This bombshell truth is like a key that pierces the iron curtain imprisoning the future, giving hope to all those who refuse to be defined as 'digital assets.']

Through Liscia's perspective, you expose everything she experienced—the plundering beneath the veneer of peace, the tacitly condoned enslavement, the torture and murder as "game content"—to the public. You let those living in comfort witness firsthand that behind those "intelligent NPCs" they regarded as data might lie living, breathing consciousnesses capable of pain and despair. The public outcry you unleashed ultimately forced "those above" to make changes, at least superficially.

Jie Zhou listened quietly, his eyes unfathomable.

However,] Fang abruptly changed the subject, "From Liscia's individual perspective, your actions are undoubtedly evil."

[You ruthlessly threw her—a soul recently deceased and filled with regret—into a cruel, unfamiliar world, without guidance or explanation, only a cold 'contract.' To ensure she, and all the 'Jasmine' units, generated 'valuable' observational data, you adopted a near-laissez-faire approach. Knowing the darkness of that world, you watched as the other fifteen 'Lismas' repeatedly endured imprisonment, torture, and death in despair, until they suffered mental breakdowns. You exploited their most primal desires for 'immortality' and 'another world,' turning them into expendable experimental subjects.]

"Furthermore," Fang continued, his tone still calm, yet every word piercing, "you ignited the 'spark,' but placed the burning pain and the possibility of being consumed entirely upon these unsuspecting individuals. You used 'saving more people' as your grand goal, yet you disregarded the most basic dignity and right to choose of these 'Lysias,' who were merely tools. Your justice is built upon their individual sacrifices, sacrifices that were not their voluntary choices made with full knowledge."

Jie Zhou lowered his head deeply, running his hands through his hair. Fang's words were like a cold mirror, reflecting the shadows he had been trying to avoid deep within his heart. For that grand goal, he had indeed crossed the most basic lines of human decency.

"Sigh..." He let out a long and painful sigh, which was particularly clear in the silent room.

After a long while, he raised his head, a hint of almost desperate hope in his eyes, and looked at Zhao Fang: "Then do you think... Liscia, the only one who succeeded and ultimately left... will forgive me?"

"I don't know about that." The other party's answer was direct and cruel. "Human nature is far more complex than I can calculate. Whether she forgives you or not depends on her experiences, her personality, and how she weighs the harm you caused against the 'results' you indirectly facilitated. And you'll never know. I've implanted a teleportation disguise device; we've completely lost track of her. Her future is truly an unknown."

Dr. Jie Zhou smiled bitterly: "Yes... we can't know anymore." His gaze turned to the cabinet next to the worktable, where a simple photo frame was placed, showing a kind-smiling middle-aged couple—his parents.

"And I..." His voice lowered, "For her, for this 'Spark' project, I almost exhausted everything."

He gambled everything: fame, wealth, a stable life, and perhaps even his future freedom and security. Now he sits here like an arsonist guarding a pile of ashes.

Another thought came through, asking one last question: "Dr. Jiezhou, do you regret it?"

Dr. Jie Zhou paused slightly. He remained silent for a long time, his gaze sweeping over the image of the Derek disappearing from the screen, then over the photos of his parents in the closet. Finally, he took a deep breath and straightened his back.

"The goal... has been achieved." His voice, though weary, carried an unusual firmness. "A corner of the truth has been revealed, and the seeds of change have been sown. Dwelling on regret now will do no good."

He paused, then said, word by word:

"I have no regrets."

These words seemed to be spoken to another, but even more so to the inner voice that constantly tormented him. He chose this path, bearing the sins and loneliness that came with it, and would continue to bear them. He didn't know how far this "spark," ignited by the suffering of countless individuals, could illuminate the road ahead. But he knew that igniting it was his choice.

The room fell silent again, with only the faint light from the screen and the cold glow illuminating this lonely "sinner" and "igniter".