Suddenly, the alarm blared, making Rong Shi’s eyes narrow.
They had almost finished backing up before being discovered? Something was wrong.

[Five—Four—]

01: “The data center system is locking down!”
00: “All servers are shutting down—”

“Not good!” Song Yu scanned the surroundings. The indicator lights on the servers suddenly began flashing erratically. “I have a bad feeling about this!”

[Three—]

00: “Backup completion 99.3%… 99.5%…”

[Two—]

00: “99.7%… 99.8%…”
01: “I’ll fight it to the death! Aaahhh!”

Rong Shi was on high alert, pulling Song Yu back with him.
“01, activate defense protocol—”

[One!]

Boom!

Rows of servers exploded one after another. From the oval-shaped ceiling, countless gun barrels emerged, opening fire indiscriminately below.

Metal fragments flew everywhere; thick smoke engulfed the hall.
The vast space instantly turned into ruins.

A beam from a laser cannon grazed Rong Shi’s shoulder. He pounced, shielding Song Yu beneath him.

“Rong Shi!” Song Yu’s heart nearly stopped. He clutched the back of Rong Shi’s head, using all his strength to protect him.

The bombing subsided. The surroundings fell eerily silent—only the scattering clatter of debris remained.

When Song Yu looked up, they found themselves enclosed once again in that all-too-familiar metallic space.

01: “Finished right in the last 0.00001 seconds! Lord 01 is awesome! Hands on hips!”
00: “Lord 00 is awesome too. Now give me an energy stone. Hands on hips.”
Song Yu: “……”

Rong Shi pushed himself up and checked Song Yu for injuries. Then he asked 01: “Did you authorize that identity to another location?”
01: “No! They haven’t even located the system breach yet. How could they authorize it elsewhere?”
Rong Shi’s face darkened: “Hijacking time isn’t over. Other than unauthorized credentials, I can’t think of any cause for exposure.”

With 01’s skillset, if there wasn’t a problem during the infiltration, there shouldn’t be one afterward either.

01 hesitated, guilty: “…… Probably not an authorization issue.”
00: “Tracked it. That handsome head forcibly reset the authorization twenty seconds ago.”
Rong Shi: “No wonder.” His face chilled. He shared vision with 01, checking the outside.
The same person couldn’t exist in two places at once—that’s how they had been exposed.

01, bristling with shame and anger: “Knew the pretty boy couldn’t be trusted! Hmph!”
Rong Shi: “It’s you that can’t be trusted.”
01: “QuQ my bad…”

Song Yu sat up, borrowed 00’s field of vision to survey the surroundings.
“The data is in hand. Let’s break out by force.”

Rong Shi pulled up all of 01’s monitoring screens, examining the base’s activity.
“It’s possible, but troublesome.”

With 01 and 00, breaking out wasn’t the issue. The issue came after—they’d be hunted down. The data center had exploded. Their enemies would never let it go. Escalation risked implicating the Second Legion as well.

Recalling the fate of the First Legion in his past life, Rong Shi wasn’t keen to escalate recklessly. Until he had a firmer grasp of this organization, a head-on conflict would be unwise.

“Retrace our path,” he ordered.

01 and 00 shifted into stealth armor mode, shielding their masters as they fled.

Outside, a waterproof shield contained the sea. Ordinary explosions could not breach it. To escape, they’d need to traverse the experimental sector and return to the cavern pathways.

They sprinted upward, through radiation fields.

01: “Hijacking time is up. My brother and I released the authorization.”
Rong Shi: “Good.”

Maintaining access would grant convenience, but it would also leave traces of 01 and 00 inside the enemy’s system—a dangerous liability.

As the hijacked access dissolved, alarms blared once again.

A patrol squad of AI guards doubled back, weapons drawn. Their laser cannons swung toward the fugitives.

Song Yu’s voice, brimming with excitement: “Wanna play grid-bomb again?”
Rong Shi: “Already tired of it?”
Song Yu chuckled: “How could I get tired of such a stress-reliever? Let’s compete—who destroys more this time?”
A faint smile tugged at Rong Shi’s lips. “Deal. What’s the wager?”

With a twist of his wrist, a long military blade appeared in Song Yu’s hand. He slid past a cannon muzzle and slashed.
The edge struck the AI’s core circuit—fried instantly.

He flicked his wrist, spinning the blade effortlessly. “Loser bakes cookies for a month.”
Rong Shi: “No reward for winning, punishment for losing? Change it.”
Song Yu: “Fine, purple sweet potato dumplings with oozy filling?”
Rong Shi shot through another AI’s core. “…… Just cookies. Less trouble.”

[…]

Meanwhile, in the control room, the command staff freaked out as the system collapsed, backups failed, alarms blared, and Poseidon—the AI system—announced calm, ominous messages: “Intruders are present—look closely, they are right there.”

But the staff saw nothing. Panic spread.

Back in the labyrinth of moving rooms, Rong Shi and Song Yu battled wave after wave of AI defenders. Suddenly, a voice gave Rong Shi specific coordinates. It was oddly familiar. Trusting his instinct, he followed its guidance, leading them through perilous jumps—straight into a hidden entrance in the seabed rock.

Song Yu eyed him suspiciously: “Who’s feeding you intel?”
Rong Shi: “You’ll see soon enough.”

They slipped into the rocky passage. Seawater drained. Oxygen rushed in.

Ahead, a beta in a lab coat appeared—someone Rong Shi’s memory recognized by voice.
He led them through hidden corridors, tossed them disinfectant-smelling white coats for disguise, and answered Song Yu’s questions only with a sly smile and a strange phrase:

“Do you still remember how to fold a paper boat?”

Finally, after evasions and narrow escapes, the beta revealed himself on a hover ambulance. Peeling away a disguised mask—he was the same “military doctor” from the Second Legion.

Rong Shi’s eyes narrowed. “Your disguise is impressive.”
The beta shrugged, throwing it aside. “Planning to open a face-changing shop when I retire. Think I could make a living at it?”
Song Yu sneered: “Keep yourself alive until then first.”

But Rong Shi pressed him harder, lowered his voice, and asked with sharp eyes:
“Or should I be saying… Shen Sinian, my father-in-law?”

The beta’s lips curved into a smile.

---

Author’s Note:
01: Even great lords slip up occasionally. Totally normal.
00: Same here.
Song Cat: Even my little brother calls himself “lord” now… what do I do? [worried]
Rong Bunny: One 01 spoils a nest of AI. Dock his rations for a year.
01: QuQ forgive me…