Surely the hyper-intelligent super AI that runs the virtual Earth network had already seen through everything! But so what? The streets were full of people who casually shared personal information online through their phones and computers. And those very phones and computers—do they really hold anything private? Surveillance cameras set up by authorities were everywhere, and man-made satellites patrolled the skies... So what's the difference between being watched by a human and being seen through by a super AI?
"But if people weren't this dumb, I wouldn't have this easy job to earn points, would I?"
Every time Satan thought of that, he didn't feel much anymore. Instead, he'd end up despising himself even more. Damn it... as if I'm any better... Suddenly, the system alert sounded in the guard booth:
"Coordinates I404, position C9—possible harassment behavior detected toward a female. Suggest immediate teleportation."
"Teleport!"
Satan leapt from his chair, and the moment the word left his lips, his entire body vanished from the guard post. When he reappeared at the alert coordinates, sure enough, he saw a creep trailing behind a purple-haired teenage girl, his shifty eyes gleaming with something foul.
"I suggest you don't do that, sir. Otherwise..." Satan approached and pulled up the man's profile. With a sigh, he added, "Your warning record will be maxed out, and the police will be knocking on your door."
The creep, clearly annoyed at being interrupted, glanced at Satan's sharp red uniform, spat on the ground, and cursed: "Tch, f**king buzzkill. It's just a damn network—who cares! I'll just stop playing! Who needs this crap, anyway! Hmph!"
With that, he stormed off.
Satan's forehead pulsed with fury. He held back the urge to punch the guy in the face.
---
Bulma glanced behind her, but in the crowd, the red-uniformed security officer had vanished like a ghost. Perched on her shoulder like a fairy, her assistant whispered in her ear, "The pervert has left."
Unlike Krillin's assistant, which was just a mechanical light orb, Bulma's wasn't cold or robotic at all. As the world's top rich and beautiful heiress, Miss Bulma had the resources to upgrade her virtual assistant to the highest level.
"What an awful guy… He totally ruined my end-of-term summer vibes." Bulma pouted and sighed. "Whatever, Lucy, log me out." After thinking for a moment, she huffed, "I need to plan out how I'll spend this summer break. No way I'm staying home again! My parents won't stop nagging me—it's so annoying!"
"Understood. Have a pleasant day," the fairy-like assistant smiled as she cut the connection.
---
Bulma removed the sleek, ring-shaped virtual device from her head and ruffled her long purple hair. "Ugh, the virtual network is so much better… I could just let Lucy style my hair instantly. Now I actually have to do it myself."
She groaned, feeling totally unmotivated, when suddenly something stirred inside her—like a flash across her mind.
"Huh?" Bulma raised an eyebrow and sniffed the air, scanning the spacious room. "What was that? This feeling…" She hopped off her bed, barefoot on the soft floor, and quickly tied her hair in a ponytail as she followed the strange, inexplicable sensation.
Leaving her room and heading downstairs, she ran into her mom.
Mrs. Briefs squinted at her. "You're up? Didn't go to class again today?"
"What day is it again?" Bulma replied absently. "Whatever. Classes are boring anyway..." Her eyes scanned around, brow furrowed, fully focused, occasionally tilting her head to listen, her gaze sparkling with curiosity and excitement—like she'd discovered something new and fascinating.
"What are you looking for?"
"Just poking around. Don't ask!"
"Sigh... my daughter's hit her rebellious phase… what a headache." Mrs. Briefs sighed with a hand on her cheek, but before walking away, she reminded her, "Oh, and don't forget, you still have to take your exams!"
"I know! You're so naggy!" Bulma waved her hand dismissively, not even turning around.
She was increasingly certain something was calling out to her. At first, she thought it was a strange smell. Then a sound. But now… now she felt it was something deeper—something pulling at her soul.
"Could it be a special electromagnetic wave? Resonating with my brainwaves?"
That thought excited her. In recent years, the booming development of the virtual Earth network had made the scientific study of the mind and consciousness a hot topic. And as a genius inventor, Miss Bulma had certainly dabbled in it.
She slipped into a random pair of slippers, her ponytail bouncing, and left the house, entering the lush indoor garden of their courtyard. Passing through leafy paths, the strange sensation in her heart—the sound, the scent, the signal—grew stronger and stronger. She could barely contain her excitement.
"What could it be?"
For the first time, Bulma felt her house was too big—way too big. It made finding anything a huge hassle. She asked a passing robot servant to bring her a small indoor scooter. Gripping the handle, she stepped onto the board and sighed. Even with the scooter, the search was exhausting.
After circling through the maze-like mansion several times, she finally pinpointed the source—it was coming from a small warehouse in the house.
"Here?"
She hopped off and tossed the scooter aside, then walked to the warehouse door in her slippers. Opening it, she waved the dust from her face. The lighting was dim, and particles danced in the sunlight. Bulma frowned and stepped in. The summoning sensation grew even stronger. Thump-thump, thump-thump—her heart was pounding wildly.
Rustle. She moved aside some stacked goods, finally revealing what lay hidden beneath the pile—the thing that had called to her from across the house…
"A piece of cloth?" Bulma was surprised. She reached out and grabbed it.
Clang—clink, clink...
Something fell out of the cloth. Looking down, Bulma saw an orange-yellow sphere roll to her feet. She bent down to pick it up—it was unbelievably clean. Inside, a beautiful red five-pointed star floated serenely at the center.
"How strange…"
Bulma muttered, and just then, the overwhelming sense of summoning disappeared. Her hand trembled slightly as she unfolded the cloth. Sunlight from the door illuminated the fabric, and her eyes widened in shock.
Embroidered on the cloth was a vivid image of a green dragon.
And next to the dragon, a delicate script told a story—one that seemed almost like a myth...