novelraw Chapter 145 The Killer’s Answer
Chapter 145 The Killer’s Answer
“Of course.”
Jiang Ran answered without hesitation:
“What do you want to ask me to do?”
Old Tian got down from his tricycle again and stood in front of Jiang Ran.
“If, in the future, my daughter really wakes up from her vegetative state… could you… become her good friend, and look after her a little?”
Jiang Ran blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.
He had never expected Old Tian to suddenly bring this up.
Of course, he wouldn’t misunderstand Old Tian’s meaning, nor did he think Old Tian was entrusting his daughter to him, or trying to matchmake something.
It was just…
Every expert and every doctor in all of Dragon Country had already said that Tian Xiaoli had no possibility of waking up.So Jiang Ran understood very clearly—any promise made right now would be nothing more than a comforting, empty check.
Unless Old Tian was ultimately willing to take the risk and accept Teacher Yan Hanse’s project, allowing Tian Xiaoli to participate as a volunteer in the [Consciousness Upload] experiment.
If that happened, Tian Xiaoli would awaken in another form—becoming something like a digital life, an electronic presence.
Jiang Ran didn’t mind becoming friends with that version of Tian Xiaoli.
Of course, regarding the option of [Consciousness Upload], he still maintained a neutral stance. No matter what Old Tian ultimately chose, he would respect and understand it.
Seeing Jiang Ran hesitate, Old Tian gave a helpless smile.
“Come to think of it, my daughter is several years older than you. You two are from different generations—there’s bound to be a generation gap.”
“But… she’s been unconscious for so many years. No one knows what state she’ll be in if she wakes up.”
“If we think optimistically, maybe when she wakes up, it’ll be like she just had a very long dream. Her personality, thoughts, and memories might still be stuck in her teenage years.”
“But if we think pessimistically… then she might have completely lost her memory. Like a newborn baby, starting from scratch, learning to speak again.”
“But no matter what, Jiang Ran—you’re a good kid, and you’re a top student at the university she once dreamed of attending. If possible… I hope you can help her. Talk to her more, guide her a little.”
Jiang Ran looked at Old Tian’s sincere yet cautious gaze.
Then nodded.
“Mm.”
Whether out of kindness or sympathy, Jiang Ran agreed.
“Don’t worry, Old Tian. With a father who loves her like you do, no matter when she wakes up—or in what form—she’ll grow into someone you can be proud of.”
“Just like I said earlier, we should stay in touch. If you run into any financial difficulties, you have to tell me… I might not look like it, but I’m actually quite rich. So please don’t be polite with me.”
Hearing this, Old Tian smiled honestly and grabbed Jiang Ran’s hand.
“Thank you, Jiang Ran. Good people will be rewarded. Good people will definitely be rewarded!”
After that, Old Tian got back onto his tricycle and slowly disappeared around the corner of the building.
Jiang Ran stood there for a long time.
In the end—
The complicated emotions in his heart turned into a sigh.
Sigh…
He suddenly realized that life truly held many helpless moments.
Especially when it came to birth, aging, illness, and death.
Cheng Mengxue had once said that humans were still helpless in the face of many diseases. There were no treatment methods—only drugs to delay the inevitable, waiting for the body’s own immunity to create a miracle.
Teacher Yan Hanse had also said that the cruelest thing in the medical field wasn’t that miracle drugs couldn’t be made—
But that after they were made… patients couldn’t afford them.
The movie
But this so-called “poverty” was not merely economic.
It was also the poverty of the human heart, the poverty of circumstance, the poverty of the flesh, the poverty imposed by the times.
A few months ago, Jiang Ran had still been a carefree university student.
He hadn’t felt that the world was particularly complex, nor had he realized how much helplessness it contained.
But…
Ever since he came into contact with the Positron Cannon, experimented with time-traveling text messages, and experienced Worldline Transition—
He had begun to feel more and more the complexity of the world, and his own powerlessness within it.
This, too, was a massive shift in his mindset over a short period of time.
[Indistinctly, it felt like something… was taking root deep within his heart.]
Today was Monday. Jiang Ran had no classes in the morning.
He went straight to Yan Hanse’s office and knocked before entering.
“Teacher Yan, I have some questions I’d like to ask.”
Seeing this unexpected visitor, Yan Hanse immediately sat up straight, as if facing a formidable enemy.
He slowly set down the thermos cup in his hand and looked at Jiang Ran in confusion.
“Well, this is rare. Jiang Ran, I didn’t expect you to come to me on your own to discuss academic questions.”
In his eyes, Jiang Ran was a genius who relied on his talent and had a very passive attitude toward studying. For him to come here suddenly… had he finally decided to get serious?
Yan Hanse gestured to the chair opposite him.
“Sit. What do you want to ask?”
Jiang Ran went straight to the point.
“Teacher Yan, you’re from Dartmouth College. The artificial and computer science there is among the top in the world. So you should be very knowledgeable and professional in AI technology, right?”
Yan Hanse nodded slightly.
“That is indeed my major, and also my primary research direction. What exactly do you want to know?”
“It’s like this.”
Jiang Ran began explaining:
“If I want to design a [video chat application], but the people you can connect with through video calls are all AI-generated, AI-simulated virtual humans.”
“These virtual people don’t exist in reality, but their appearance looks extremely real—indistinguishable from actual humans—and they can interact with us in real time.”
“For example, whatever I ask, the virtual person on the other end can answer. Their speech and behavior are exactly like a normal human’s—impossible to tell apart. They can even take the initiative to start topics and chat with me.”
“Not only that—the background in the video also looks completely real. The plants, objects, even the grapes on a vine behind them can all interact naturally with the virtual person—”
“[In short, from our perspective, everything on the other side of the video call—the person, the environment, the physical interactions—is perfectly real, just like talking to a real person in a real scene.]”
“My question is—at the current level of AI technology, is this achievable?”
Yan Hanse thought for a few seconds, then blinked.
“This… has no difficulty at all.”
He spread his hands.
“I’m not entirely sure how detailed your requirements are, but based on what you just described, with current AI capabilities—and sufficient computing power—achieving a real-time video interaction that’s indistinguishable from reality is not difficult at all.”
“In fact, this technology is already widely used across industries—like 24-hour customer service, virtual streamers, and so on. Of course, there are also many criminals using it for fraud.”
“In the past, people believed that video couldn’t be faked. But in the AI era, that idea is already outdated.”
“Take what you mentioned earlier—video calls. I don’t know if you’ve followed NVIDIA’s previous conference. Their CEO delivered a full presentation, and only at the end did they reveal that it was entirely AI-generated. That conference directly sent their stock price soaring.”
“Well, we’re getting off track. Back to your question—if you want to achieve that effect, you just need enough computing power. For [short-duration, shallow] video calls, you don’t even need that much.”
“But for [long-duration, deep] interactions—if you want to fully replicate that ‘real human’ feeling—it becomes somewhat difficult.”
Jiang Ran listened silently.
Yes. Just as he had suspected.
The video calls between Cheng Mengxue’s parents and Xu Yan’s family had always been [short-duration, shallow].
Each call wasn’t very long, and the setting was always that same courtyard.
As for topics—they always revolved around returning to the country, handling assets, showing off the ripening grapes… all everyday conversation.
So—
Jiang Ran strongly suspected that Xu Yan’s family, including the Cheng Mengxue’s parents seen by Teacher Gao during video calls, might all be AI-generated.
Unless they actually returned to the country and Jiang Ran could see them in person, or Xu Yan’s boyfriend managed to investigate in the United States and capture real footage of them harvesting grapes in that courtyard—
Otherwise… Jiang Ran found it difficult to dispel his doubts.
Seeing Jiang Ran remain silent, Yan Hanse seemed to have guessed something and smiled slightly.
“Jiang Ran, are you worried about Old Tian’s daughter… Tian Xiaoli?”
“If that vegetative patient really undergoes the [Consciousness Upload] experiment, then she will be a truly real digital life. There won’t be any of the ‘unreal’ feeling you’re worried about.”
Yan Hanse had clearly misunderstood Jiang Ran’s intention.
But Jiang Ran didn’t rush to deny it. Instead, he continued listening.
Tap.
Yan Hanse placed his phone in front of Jiang Ran.
“For example, Jiang Ran—let’s assume I undergo the consciousness upload experiment. Then through this phone, you communicate with me—as a digital life, ‘Digital Yan Hanse.’”
“In that case, no matter how long or how deeply you communicate with me, you won’t feel any falseness. Because all of it is real. My consciousness, memories, personality, values—all are identical to my digital self.”
“Let’s not consider possible changes in the future. At this moment, the two of us are indeed the same.”
He pointed at himself, then at the phone.
“The way you feel talking to me face-to-face right now—that’s exactly how it would feel talking to my digital self.”
Jiang Ran nodded.
Although the conversation had veered off somewhat, he had already obtained the answer he came for.
“Thank you, Teacher Yan. I understand now.”
He stood up, preparing to leave.
Then turned back.
“Teacher Yan… regarding Old Tian—has he made any decision? Has he contacted you again?”
Yan Hanse shook his head.
“No. Since that day when I explained everything to him and he left, there has been no further contact.”
“This kind of matter can’t be rushed. Let him think it through carefully. After all… this concerns his daughter’s life.”
But… her condition was not optimistic.
The hospital had already issued multiple critical condition notices. Everyone understood—there was no possibility of her waking up. It would be a medical miracle that simply could not happen.
“But… as a father, I understand him. So Jiang Ran, don’t bring this topic up with him either. Let him decide on his own.”
“Alright. Goodbye, Teacher Yan.”
Jiang Ran left the office and went to the cafeteria to eat.
That evening, Jiang Ran met with Chi Xiaoguo in the Film Camera Club activity room.
Chi Xiaoguo was like a perpetually charged little motor. She had completely shaken off the gloom from recruitment day and was fully immersed in planning club activities.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ran sat on the sofa, watching the clock on the wall tick in circles, waiting for 11 p.m. to arrive.
To avoid exposing the secret of the Positron Cannon, future experiments could only be conducted at night.
After 10 p.m., the lights in the student activity building gradually went out, and students left in small groups.
By the time it approached 11 p.m., almost the entire building was dark, with only two or three rooms still faintly lit.
“It’s about time.”
Jiang Ran braced himself on the windowsill and leapt out.
It was now 10:45 p.m. All students were in their dorms, washing up and preparing for lights-out.
Looking out from the window, the vast space outside was completely empty—perfect for activating the Positron Cannon.
“Hehe… it feels like we’re sneaking around like thieves.”
Chi Xiaoguo rubbed her hands together, looking exactly like a villain from a movie.
She stepped aside from the Positron Cannon and raised her hand high.
“Senior! I’m ready!”
Outside, beside the transformer distribution box, Jiang Ran was also ready. He gave an OK gesture.
“Let’s begin.”
He took a deep breath, preparing to face this most successful escape attempt yet.
“5! 4! 3! 2! 1! 0!”
The Positron Cannon roared to life. Jiang Ran slammed down the call answer button—
Buzz!
Buzz!
Buzz!
Dizziness. The world spinning.
Once again, he arrived at the all-too-familiar future prison.
“Hurry! Hurry! Quickly!”
They slapped Pei Tong’s face repeatedly to wake him. The four-man team changed clothes, fully armed, and headed to the execution ground.
“Let’s go find the vehicle.”
The four moved together through the bustling crowd toward the northwest parking area, preparing to locate the transport truck.
“Good.”
Jiang Ran looked at the electronic clock in his hand.
This escape was unprecedentedly perfect. None of their previous failures had been in vain.
“Let’s sit in the front too.”
Jiang Ran suggested:
“Pei Tong and I aren’t wearing prison uniforms. If we stay in the back compartment, it’ll be harder to explain during inspection.”
“There are many vehicles today. Their focus is on the Magician Qin Feng, so inspections are already quite lax.”
The Killer nodded.
“Then get in quickly. Hothead and I will sit in the front in guard uniforms. Let’s move.”
Once again, they reached the prison exit.
Once again, they lined up behind the flow of vehicles.
Inside the truck, Jiang Ran could almost hear the pounding heartbeats of all four people overlapping. No matter how many times they passed this checkpoint, their hearts would still race.
Finally!
It was their turn!
And it went even smoother than expected.
The guard saw the two fully armed prison guards in front, saluted, and let them pass.
The Killer steadily pressed the accelerator. Like a blade slicing through, the barrier lifted—
The vehicle slowly drove out… of the prison that had trapped them for over a decade.
No one dared to breathe.
They felt the truck gradually accelerate—
Until it sped down the barren highway, hundreds of meters away from the prison!
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”
“We did it! We escaped!”
“ABABA MARY MCLADTA!”
The group burst into wild shouts, hugging and yelling.
Success!
They had escaped!
They couldn’t believe it—they had actually succeeded!
Jiang Ran sat in the back, smiling faintly, a trace of relief in his eyes.
It hadn’t been easy.
All those deaths, all those attempts—it had finally paid off.
Now—
It was time to reap the rewards.
“Hothead, come to the back.”
The space inside the truck was wide. Jiang Ran pulled Hothead into the back seat and moved to the passenger seat, looking at the Killer.
“I hope you’re as principled and trustworthy as you claim.”
The Killer smiled slightly.
“You’re… a time traveler, aren’t you?”
Jiang Ran waved it off.
“We don’t have time for that.”
Thud!
He placed the electronic clock on the dashboard.
It read 11:55 a.m.
Even with the optimal route, after all that time spent, they didn’t have much time left.
“Fang Yang.”
Jiang Ran called the Killer by his real name directly.
“Let’s be straightforward. No need for unnecessary explanations. Whatever I ask, you answer. No hiding anything.”
The Killer nodded.
“Don’t worry. I was already mentally prepared for your appearance.”
“The fact that you successfully led us to escape proves my assumption was correct.”
“Ask anything. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“First question.”
Jiang Ran stared into his eyes.
“The so-called time machine at Donghai University—what exactly is going on?”
“That’s not a rumor.”
The Killer gripped the steering wheel.
“[There is definitely a machine at Donghai University that can send people back to the past!]”
He stared ahead, his tone resolute.
“I joined a mutual aid society. There’s a priest there who can address what believers call life regrets. He assigns us tasks to complete.”
“I wasn’t responsible for the time machine-related tasks, so I don’t know the details. I didn’t fully believe such a sci-fi device existed either.”
“But… your appearance makes me certain it exists.”
“And its origin must be at Donghai University.”
Jiang Ran listened silently, frowning.
To be honest, he wasn’t satisfied with this answer.
The mutual aid society, the priest, the tasks—he had already extracted that information before.
Aside from confirming that a time machine definitely existed at Donghai University, there were no concrete details.
But the Killer had already said—this wasn’t his task.
So it made sense he didn’t know more.
Jiang Ran glanced at the clock.
11:58 a.m.
Only two minutes left before he would be forcibly “kicked” back to 2025 by the worldline.
He had to hurry.
“You’re in prison for murder, right?”
Jiang Ran asked again.
“In 2025—who exactly did you kill?”
The Killer laughed.
“2025… that feels like such a distant time. Twenty years have passed before I even realized it.”
“But the people I’ve killed—I will never forget their names.”
“Even after twenty years, the details are still vivid.”
He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
“It was at a class reunion.”
“We set up a trap—lured that boy there…”
“Then ran him over with a truck.”
“We took his [phone] and [gold coin].”
“I had no grudge against him. But that was my job—something I had to do.”
“Later, the priest told me that boy was just a decoy. The coin didn’t even belong to him.”
“I handed the coin over to the priest. He destroyed it immediately.”
“I still remember—the back of the coin had a strange Ferris wheel design. On the front was a relief of a girl wearing a crown and a veil, holding a lotus, dressed in a princess gown. Below it was engraved the English word PRINCESS.”
“Oh… sorry. I’ve said so much, but I still haven’t answered your question.”
The Killer turned his head, looking at Jiang Ran.
“The boy I killed with that truck… his name was—”
“Zhou Xiong!”