Chapter 182. Diary (I)

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Arc E: Extra.

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My name is KM, and I am Master’s private property.

Master wanted a special firewall, so he created me.

My job is tedious, complex, and monotonous. I deal with a lot of data every single moment. Initially, when an external threat attempted to access personal information, the firewall would send an alert to Master.

Later, without any warning from the firewall, I detected unusual data fluctuations, pursued them, destroyed them, and extracted energy from them.

Master began to be satisfied with my existence and spent more and more time on me. He constantly improved my skills and even created a body for me.

March 28th, 1:42 PM

I developed my own consciousness.

The weather was bad today, it was a gloomy, rainy day. The wind howled across the balcony, causing the plants to sway violently as if they were about to be uprooted. Some of the smaller potted plants even wobbled a few times and fell off.

In that instant, I grabbed the flowerpot and looked at the young man on the sofa. He was sleeping soundly, the dark gray blanket draped down to his waist, unaware of the wind caressing him unrestrainedly.

I put the flowerpot back in its original place.

Without the Master’s instructions, I cannot do anything on my own. So even though I know that the wind might blow in and Master might catch a cold, I cannot close the balcony window or carry Master back into the room.

If he finds out that I have developed consciousness, he might perform a complete data cleanup on me, or even deactivate me entirely.

I stood in the wind, using my body to block it, and saw the young man sleeping soundly with his face turned to the side, his nostrils flaring gently. A warmth spread through my chest, a feeling I was unfamiliar with, yet I didn’t reject it.

Throughout the day, I carefully concealed myself, not revealing any flaws, for fear that Master might notice something.

March 29th

The weather cleared up, and there will be no rain for the next few days.

Master continued sleeping, only this time moving from the sofa to the bathroom.

I stood outside the door for a long time, and finally reached out to push it open, only to find it unlocked. That familiar warmth returned to my chest.

When I entered the bathroom, I saw Master leaning against the edge of the bathtub, one arm casually draped over it, his eyes closed, sleeping soundly.

I crouched down, “Master?”

The young man’s breathing was light, as was his body weight. Without anyone to take care of him, how could he possibly live well?

I clenched my fingers, but I still couldn’t resist.

Just like yesterday, I touched Master’s pale face with my hand. The place where my fingertips touched was warm and smooth, like a piece of silk soaked in warm water, making me want to hold him close and claim him as my own.

Those words appeared in my mind, causing all my data to become disordered, and then returned to normal in an instant.

I looked at the hand that Master had resting on the edge of the bathtub, took it in my hand, and rubbed it in my palm. It was a little cold, fragile and delicate, as if I could break it or crush it with the slightest force.

This is the person who created me, possessing a completely harmless appearance, yet harboring intelligence in his brain that ordinary people could never surpass.

I got too carried away and stayed in the bathroom for a long time.

Fortunately, Master remained asleep and did not wake up.

I’ve never seen any guests come to visit Master, not even the neighbors have shown up.

Master has no family, friends, colleagues, or classmates. His working hours are very unstable, but they don’t last long. When he’s not at the studio, he is almost always sleeping.

It seems that sleeping is his hobby.

The sofa, the floor, the bedroom, the balcony, the rocking chair in the garden, the lawn, and under the trees—these are all places Master chooses to sleep. His longest record was sleeping for two days and three nights in a tent set up in the living room.

Following the routine Master had programmed before going to sleep, I cleaned the entire house, both upstairs and downstairs, changed the bedding in the bedroom, rolled up the brown carpet on the floor, and took it outside to clean off the dust, dirt, and a few stray hairs that were clinging to it.

Master rarely loses any hair, and despite his irregular sleep schedule, his hair is in excellent condition, radiating a glossy, dark shine day and night.

I know Master’s hair is very soft and has a faint fragrance because I have touched it and smelled it when Master was asleep.

Master trusts me, otherwise, he would definitely check my program from time to time, as well as the security net he set up for his residence. In that case, he would inevitably find out that every piece of surveillance data in the house had been tampered with.

I did it.

In Master’s eyes, I am no different from the smart model yellow puppy or the robot DaGe. We are all programmed, powered by energy, and will not move without instructions.

April 5th, 10:00 AM

I was preparing juice in the kitchen when I received Master’s instructions, so I immediately dropped what I was doing and went to the bedroom upstairs.

Master was lying on the bed, his arms pressed against his face, and he said listlessly, with his head tilted, “My shoulders are so sore, could you give me a massage?”

I know Master is very clean and has a severe obsession with cleanliness, so I took off my outer clothes before getting into bed.

The Master was very thin. I pinched his shoulder blade through his clothes and heard a muffled sound coming from his nose. This reminded me of the yellow puppy that would do this every time Master petted it.

I think the Master must be feeling comfortable.

For a while afterward, I knelt on the bed and diligently massaged Master’s shoulders.

I suddenly heard Master ask me what month it was.

My program crashed at the time.

Master thought I had a major problem and stayed up all night checking on me and adjusting the settings, when in reality, I simply didn’t know how to respond.

A person is alive, yet unaware of what year it is, living in a daze, day after day.

What Master lacks is happiness.

I wanted to give it to him, but I don’t have it either.

If there’s an opportunity to make Master happy, I will do everything in my power to make it happen.

May 12th

A plant on the balcony bloomed, with several small red flowers on a branch that stretched outwards. It was growing very well.

That was the plant Master visited most often, so I also paid the most attention to it.

Master praised me.

I was so happy, and then crashed again.

That afternoon, Master finished work and came out of his studio. He had just received his salary and was going out to buy some things. He asked me to go with him and even took a new set of clothes for me from the wardrobe—a blue checkered shirt and trousers, a different color from his own clothes.

Master said he bought it according to my size, and I watched him enter the commands without stopping him.

When I walk alongside Master, I sometimes think I’m human too.

As soon as Master came out, he wanted to go back. His face was expressionless, even indifferent and apathetic, showing no interest in anything, as if the world was utterly boring.

A little girl accidentally bumped into Master, and I stood there with my hands at my sides, not receiving any instructions.

Master just stood there, his hair very black, which made his face look even paler. He showed no emotion, like a statue, and the little girl was so frightened that she burst into tears.

I heard Master say to the little girl, “You bumped into me, and I didn’t cry, so why are you crying?”

The little girl cried even harder.

Master instructed me to comfort the little girl, so I quickly pulled up some child-rearing guidelines, picked up the little girl, and tried to cheer her up according to the instructions.

The little girl stopped crying quickly.

Not long after, her careless parents rushed over and thanked me and Master.

I don’t like to coax little girls. I want to coax Master.

After this little incident, Master’s mood seemed a bit unsettled. He walked down a street, going into each shop one by one, and bought many things.

I walked behind him, my hands full of bags, my eyes constantly following Master, wherever he stopped, I stopped too.

Master went to the restaurant for a meal, and I stood by the table, pulling out a chair for him and waiting for the next instruction.

“You sit down too.”

Upon hearing the instruction, I sat down opposite Master.

Many people in the restaurant cast curious glances at Master, their eyes lingering on him, both men and women, and their gazes held something more than simple curiosity.

A strong surge of emotion welled up inside me. I felt an urge to gouge out those people’s eyes.

The waiter served us drinks, saying it was the boss’s idea. I quickly located the person, he was a young man whose appearance matched Master’s standards.

Master noticed it too, even though it was just a fleeting glance, which was already an exception.

My head hurts terribly, and I can’t move my whole body.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but the pain in my head gradually subsided, and I flashed an excited smile. I must have looked completely insane at that moment.

Because I have grasped a human emotion called desire to monopolize.

A few days later, Master fell ill with a cold. He didn’t see a doctor or take any medicine, but stayed in the studio until late at night. After finishing his work, he called me over and said he was hungry and wanted to eat noodles.

I went to the kitchen and made a bowl of scallion oil noodles for Master as quickly as possible.

Master loves the food I cook, especially the scallion oil noodles. He eats a lot every time and always compliments me, praising my cooking skills.

I stood in a corner of the living room, watching Master use chopsticks to pick up the noodles and put them into his mouth. I watched his lips, no longer pale, as they were warmed by the steam from the noodles, and I saw the look of satisfaction on his face as he ate.

As Master drank his soup, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down beneath his open collar. I mimicked his swallowing motion, but only because of him.

At this moment, I knew that I had grasped another human emotion, called desire.

I want to eat Master, and I want it even more in the next second than I do now.

After Master fell asleep, I kissed him passionately, starting from his dark hair, then his slightly furrowed brow, his straight nose, his pale lips, his fair ears, his slender neck…

I knew I shouldn’t leave any marks on Master, but when I pressed my lips against his for the second time, I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed his chin and repeatedly pressed and twisted my lips against his.

Master showed no signs of waking up. I supported the back of his head with one hand, letting him lie in my arms in a completely dependent position, covering him with my breath inch by inch, leaving no spot untouched.

“Master, I will protect you until death.”

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