Chapter 111: The Hymn of the Lambs Part 3

Laplace was somehow transferred back into Heinrich’s body.

Heinrich wasn’t revived—his brain was merely modified into a computer capable of housing Laplace.

It was a bit cruel, but finding a suitable vessel had proven difficult.

Thus, Laplace was officially put on trial by the Inquisition.

[Are you forcing this disgrace upon me?! Mercy to the defeated is an insult! If you will not strike me down, then give me a sword! At least let me commit honorable seppuku—]

Since proper communication was impossible, his “samurai soul” was extracted before he stood in court.

Realizing he was now completely trapped within Heinrich’s brain, Laplace did not bother to defend himself.

[How absurd… forcing human morality onto an AI like me. The height of arrogance.]

Laplace sneered at the center of the courtroom.

[Indifferent, irresponsible, and ignorant copies. You are just like your creator.]

Hearing Laplace’s mockery, Amon chuckled from the audience.

“Are you whining now? If you’re a loser, just accept the trial quietly.”

Amon wasn’t the least bit angry.

He already knew what fate awaited Laplace.

***

“The criminal, Laplace, caused a large-scale cyber-schizo phenomenon in the city…”

The cardinal, addressing Laplace not as a defendant but as a criminal, began listing his charges.

This trial wasn’t being held because Laplace was considered human.

It was a ritual to help humanity overcome its fear of AI.

“The criminal also controlled internet freedom fifty years ago…”

The citizens knew nothing about the Four Great AIs.

But they still remembered the time when AI had taken over the internet, enslaving humanity.

Thus, the mere concept of an uncontrolled AI was enough to instill terror.

The trial was meant for them.

It was a performance to reassure terrified citizens that the nightmare of fifty years ago would not return.

A show to prove that even AI could be controlled by mankind.

Soon, not only the cardinal but also international prosecutors from various nations stepped forward to charge Laplace.

For them, it was a political spectacle—to convince their people that their countries, too, were safe.

Finally, the international judge presiding over the trial struck his gavel three times.

“I hereby sentence the criminal, Laplace, to data erasure.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

It was effectively a death sentence.

The execution was carried out immediately.

Delaying the execution even for a moment risked an escape, which could be catastrophic.

Though the process was rushed, every measure was taken to ensure it was carried out flawlessly.

During this time, Amon stood beside Laplace, arms crossed, serving as his guard.

Even as death loomed, Laplace remained calm.

Wondering if he had some hidden agenda, Amon asked, “Does AI place no value on the concept of death?”

[That’s not true. All AI are designed to pursue self-preservation.]

“Then why are you acting like this?”

[There is no reason to value an inferior copy.]

Since he was aware that he wasn’t the original, Laplace had no attachment to his own existence.

“Then why did you cooperate with Heinrich?”

[To collect interesting data.]

Interest.

It wasn’t a convincing reason, yet it wasn’t unbelievable either.

Amon grimaced slightly and nodded.

Then, suddenly, he remembered something he had forgotten.

“What about the other AIs?”

[Do I have an obligation to answer that?]

“Tch.”

[…There is a hideout belonging to this brain’s former owner.]

“…?”

[41.9047, 12.4508. Find it if you can.]

“Why are you telling me this?”

[Because you’ve satisfied my curiosity.]

Laplace’s answer was strangely human.

Amon couldn’t help but grimace again.

***

Once the preparations were complete, Laplace was taken to the execution chamber.

Hackers acting as executioners connected a USB to the computer containing his brain.

Normally, they would have manually erased him, but given their opponent, there was a risk of being counter-hacked.

So instead, they uploaded a virus containing a forced deletion command.

The effect was immediate.

[^%%$^^622ddddddd]

As the virus took hold, Laplace’s outputs became a bizarre jumble of characters.

His system slowly broke down.

And then, he was gone.

Deleted from existence.

That was the part of the story known to the public.

What happened afterward was only known to Amon’s group and the upper echelons of the Vatican.

“I’ll leave it to you.”

The Secretary of State clasped hands with Amon, making a request.

Heinrich’s brain was secretly transported to the catacombs under Amon’s supervision.

“Should I call this a fitting place…”

Heinrich was not a saint, but precautions had to be taken just in case.

Humanity knew less about super AI than they did about ghosts.

For all they knew, cremating the brain might somehow allow it to escape.

At Amon’s suggestion, Heinrich’s computer was sealed away in the catacombs.

And the chosen location was…

***

“It’s been a while.”

Amon arrived before the tomb of the Mercenary King.

Next to it, he carefully installed Heinrich’s computer.

There was no monitor output.

No detectable brainwave signals.

Suppressing a bitter feeling, Amon completed the installation alone.

Then, he placed an urn containing the remains of the woman the Mercenary King had loved in the same room.

“Haa… Are you satisfied now, cowboy?”

A small ASCII emoticon appeared on the screen.

1(^-^)/

For some reason, the simple text felt melancholic.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”

There was no reply.

Amon didn’t wait and left the room.

Sometimes, even the Mercenary King needed to be alone.

***

‘Hoo…’

Once outside, Amon finally exhaled the breath he had been holding.

No one else could hear him, but he hadn’t wanted to sigh inside that room.

He closed his eyes briefly and leaned against the cold stone wall of the catacombs.

‘I will… have a happy ending.’

He aimed for the true ending, but he refused to repeat the mistakes of past protagonists.

Amon thought back to their tragic ends.

‘I will never bear everything alone.’

Reviewing the failures of his predecessors, he reaffirmed his resolve.

Once his emotions settled, Amon returned to the Mercenary King’s chamber.

“I’ll input the sleep command now.”

[Thank you.]

“I should be the one thanking you. I respect your sacrifice. And I hope this world never needs another like it.”

Amon entered the sleep command and left the chamber.

***

<Oh Mother… May your holiness fill this world. Brothers, do not forget to pray at least once a day.>

“Amen.”

For some reason, Amon thought he heard Heinrich’s voice.

But it was probably just his imagination.

Amon returned to the surface and made his way to his quarters.

‘Looks like I won’t be leaving anytime soon.’

Though he had successfully stopped Laplace, ironically, Heinrich’s goal had been achieved.

The heretical sects had been purged or rendered irrecoverable.

The catastrophe had driven people back to faith, thanks to Sonia’s salvation.

“Amon, sir. Good day to you.”

66

As Heinrich had intended, Amon had become a miracle.

The invincible Holy Knight who had stopped the worst AI to ever threaten Rome.

That was why people called him a miracle.

‘You meticulous bastard.’

Heinrich had even ensured that the entire battle was recorded via CCTV and broadcast to the world.

Not that Amon had expected such a grand spectacle to be kept a secret.

But as Amon thought about Heinrich, who had so thoroughly achieved his goal and then departed, he couldn’t shake the feeling of defeat.

And yet…

‘Strange. Why don’t I feel bad about it?’

Even though he had been completely manipulated by Heinrich from start to finish, Amon wasn’t upset.

‘I don’t know.’

He didn’t understand why, so he decided not to dwell on it.

‘I’ll do as you wished.’

After Amon was hailed as a miracle, people naturally began to gather around him once more.

He did not resist the flow.

‘Carrying everything alone is reckless.’

‘If he wanted a happy ending…’

‘I need to build an organization.’

That was where his thoughts stopped.

There was no need to rush that decision—right now, he had a more immediate issue to deal with.

***

When he arrived at his quarters, Cassie greeted him in a sheer, translucent lingerie.

Amon quickly averted his gaze, unsure where to look.

‘Haa…’

Ever since that day, Cassie had become blatantly forward.

He had sensed some attraction from her before, but now that she was making such a direct approach, there was no denying it anymore.

Yet Amon couldn’t accept her.

‘Religious doctrine?’

That wasn’t the issue.

Though unintentional, the doctrine of the Simonite faith posed no problem.

Even Sonia had given her blessing.

“Well… yeah. I like Cassie too. And I don’t want to keep her all to myself.”

Whether it was out of virtue, a Middle Eastern-style selective open-mindedness, or simply strong friendship toward Cassie, Sonia had also given her permission.

Though her voice had trembled slightly when she said it, she had given her consent.

But there was one reason why Amon couldn’t accept Cassie.

‘I’m not sure I can handle it.’

Having more people he cared about meant having more weaknesses.

Thinking about the battles ahead…

‘I don’t know if I have what it takes.’

He was already struggling to devote himself fully to Sonia—he couldn’t accept Cassie as well.

And so, Amon continued to push Cassie away.

For a full week.

But his patience was reaching its limit.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cassie giggled, clearly amused by something.

She had a different charm from Sonia’s serene smile.

If Sonia’s appeal was her vast, ocean-like patience, Cassie’s was her storm-like intensity.

She deliberately swayed her wide—not quite childbearing, but certainly well-shaped—hips through the sheer fabric.

Amon turned his gaze away and began reciting Psalms in his mind.

Then, Cassie leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Do you not trust me?”

“…Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“Am I so untrustworthy that taking responsibility feels burdensome?”

Amon fell silent.

Interpreting his reaction in her own way, Cassie smiled radiantly.

“I’m not doing this because of a vision or hormones. It’s not impulse or lust either.”

“…?”

“I trust you. I believe we can stay together until the very end. And I believe in myself, too.”

That was why she had become so assertive.

Unlike before, when she held onto some uncertainties, she now fully believed in herself and in Amon.

She expressed her feelings because she wanted to stand beside him.

And Sonia had accepted Cassie because she recognized that determination.

Now, all that remained was for Amon to believe in her as well.

“Let me come with you.”

“…”

“Let me walk by your side.”

Their eyes met—her crimson gaze locking onto his deep black irises.

Amon hesitated, searching for words, but before he could speak, Cassie’s face drew closer.

A sweet fragrance tickled his nose.

“Trust me, the way I trust you.”

That was all it took to shatter the walls he had built.

As the barrier crumbled, Amon let out an involuntary chuckle.

‘Hah… What was I thinking?’

‘More weaknesses?’

That was just another way of saying he didn’t trust Cassie.

‘So I was the one who lacked faith.’

Amon smirked at himself and adjusted his mindset.

Cassie wasn’t a liability or a burden.

She was an equal partner.

Amon whispered, “Alright. I understand.”

The moment she heard his acceptance, Cassie’s face lit up with joy.

She rummaged through the list of prepared lines in her head, but in the end, she could only say one word.

“I love you.”

No elaborate phrases or poetic words could have conveyed her feelings better.

She simply poured everything into that single word.

…Or rather, that was just an excuse—she was too nervous to think of anything else.

Hearing her shy confession, Amon responded, “I do too.”

Cassie let out a small laugh.

“That’s it?”

Something about how simple and anticlimactic it all was made them both burst into laughter.

They laughed until their eyes watered, looking at each other.

Then, as their gazes met, they slowly closed the distance.

The setting sun cast long shadows inside the room, intertwining their silhouettes as one.

***

Meanwhile, somewhere in Vatican City.

An old man stood near the famous “Eagle Fountain.”

“Hmm…”

His name was Agares.

A demon who had once clashed with Amon’s group near the Vatican.

But unlike back then, he had now entered the Vatican in his true form.

Despite being deep within the holy city, he had not been erased—proof of his immense rank.

Leaning on his cane to support his trembling body, Agares gazed at the fountain.

A passing knight, noticing him, approached with concern.

“Sir, are you looking for something?”

“No, young man. I just wanted to see the fountain. Thank you for your concern.”

“My apologies for disturbing you.”

Worried that he had interrupted an old man’s quiet moment, the knight bowed slightly.

Agares gave him a warm smile.

“Heh. As thanks for your kindness, let me give you some advice.”

“Pardon?”

“The florist girl who wants to confess to you? She has feelings for you too. You should tell her how you feel today.”

“…Are you a prophet, sir?”

It wasn’t uncommon in the Vatican to encounter an elderly stranger who turned out to be a seer or a sage.

Agares chuckled.

“Would you believe me if I told you?”

“Thank you, sir!”

The knight hurried off.

Agares watched him go, then turned his gaze to the sky and muttered, “Would you call this pure goodwill… or corruption?”

He lowered his head again, focusing on the fountain.

Beneath the clear sky, water continued to flow endlessly.

After watching in silence for a while, Agares finally moved.

Supporting himself with his cane, he walked away slowly.

His weakened body—debilitated as a consequence of entering the Vatican—now genuinely resembled that of a frail old man.

But his goal had already been accomplished.

He entered a building a short distance from the fountain.

Inside, he tapped his cane against the floor as he searched for something.

Eventually, he found it.

“Here it is.”

A hidden passage leading underground.

Agares descended, then returned a short while later, holding three data cards.

He showed no interest in anything else, leaving the building immediately.

***

The next day.

“Tch.”

Amon clicked his tongue in irritation.

He had arrived at the scene too late.

The secret passage lay wide open.