"I appreciate you for helping me save me the useless red tape of the first day, and we don't need to say hello when we should be familiar with it," he turned to the men, "if you don't mind—" They walked away playfully. Two bodyguards grabbed DTR35 and 774 by the shoulders. 774 tried to resist, and immediately another person came over like a quantum teleporter and held him down. "Let's talk alone, the two gentlemen can go out, let me have a good talk with her."

Stefan walked over to the pool table.

"Do you think the universe wants to be observed?"

"I don't think the universe wants to do anything."

"If you're talking about some kind of consciousness, then—"

"If the universe is conscious, it won't be left to you to observe, I like better things." I interrupted him unceremoniously, this polite, suave man made me sick to my stomach.

"Do you ever feel that everything is just right, and with a little fluctuation, the world is a different way?"

"Do you mean the chaos effect or the anthropic principle?" I don't know what he's going to say. Who knows the purpose of the serpent?

"You've heard of the Tone Shaker, a girl like you who loves to study past experiments wouldn't know this, would you?" He looked at the layout on the table and was already planning to hit his first shot.

"Your excuses are solace to you, but is your consciousness in your brain when you are drunk? Do you need to take responsibility for your actions when you are unconscious? Consciousness is a gift from heaven, but some people feel that it is a burden. They will only grind as best they can. What are you afraid of? "He's been provoking me." We can now try to see if you can collapse the wave function when you are drunk, and then look at your sins when you are drunk. ”

"If consciousness really belongs to me, of course I will do my best to sharpen it." I don't want to look back at what he's doing. Olaana took a puff of her cigarette and walked to the left of the pool table to open a small black box. is a kind of controller. I don't know exactly what it is, but I'm guessing it's about the tone vibration board.

Stefan tore through his pockets, black grains of sand flowed on the table, and all the billiard balls were drowned in quicksand. He held the white ball up at the unseen celestial body. "The Moon." He looked at the white ball and sighed. Then he adjusted the knob.

The grains of sand change the way they are arranged and become waves.

"There are waves all around us, even we ourselves. Waves are everywhere. Stefan moved his right hand slightly, and the waveform continued to change, and the interference fringes of the double-slit experiment appeared, followed by electromagnetic waves, and sand paintings like butterfly wings. A long time ago, someone used this form to record the world at that time, and that kind of wave is called line, fresco. Many unsightly ancestors brought us light, but we became victims of fire. Do you know what you mean, Miss? ”

"I don't know, I don't think I have any theoretical significance."

"No, miss, I know so much more than you do, and you don't know what you're worth. You're experimenting with creating worlds," Stefan watched as the sand on his table turned into six circles. It occurred to me that there were six magazines. I remembered the mentor. What is Stefan hinting at me? A threat, a warning. "I heard Gabriel's trumpet." He intoxicatedly said that the cue ball hit ball number six, and then the table was thrown into chaos. "What do you think they will do, have you ever played billiards?"

"Nope." I was thinking that billiards are not for girls.

"It's okay, play a game with me."

I took the club, I didn't know what to do, and I couldn't keep up with his jumping mind.

I carefully analyzed the angles, just like the most basic principles of optics. Then control the dynamics. The billiard balls collide inelastically with each other at a rapid speed, which is dazzling. I already know the result, and I don't need to observe it to know the result.

He was amazed at what I was capable of. "You haven't played billiards?" Incredible tone.

"I just know about optics." I threw down the club and watched them smear a layer of powder on the club, "and classical mechanics." ”

The corners of his mouth twitched.

A function is a system. Functions can be transformed, and the core of the calculation is "if, then". The representation pattern of complex numbers in the f function is iteratively repeated, and any complex number z is substituted into the function, and the obtained value continues to be substituted and continued. It's like ribosomes endlessly devouring their own products. In the three-dimensional space of the chart, these sets will show complex and wonderful structures, Giulia sets, Mandelbrot classification, pathological change curves. And something. Something called a monster.

Thoughts can also turn into monsters.

My mind is a monster that devours me. It devours itself.

Stefan took the club, placed it on the sand-covered table, and pulled out a white handkerchief scented with marigold, whether it was linen or silk, from his pocket. With a light shot, the ball six hit the sand and stopped immediately. Truly the worst venue. He casually grabbed a handful of sand and ran it between his fingers, becoming less and less. He nodded, and Olaana came over to clean up the black grains of sand, and the exposed table made me uneasy. He was a wealthy man with a high level of culture, and he would never let his table get dirty to the point of stains everywhere.

I couldn't control my brain, it had to make me think that there was once a man here, his head at the other end of the table, his left hand near the side pocket, most of his legs outside the table, and more than a dozen wounds bleeding from his body. I'm trying to believe that the stains have nothing to do with atrocities. But Olaana's pale green eyes looked at me, and I knew she was affirming that I was right, and it was just a hint from them to me, and if I didn't cooperate, I would be like this person. I think of the DTR35.

Olaana seemed to have guessed my mind, or rather that my thoughts were under their control. She said in that gruffy voice, "It's not him. ”

Then I was taken away. I passed by where we were before and noticed a little change. It seems that some of the ornaments are missing, evaporating like the diagram from Lab 774. I walked down a hallway, turning past what looked like a storage room, and in front of me was a heavy wooden door with an iron gate. I watched them open the door with a key, not just one key, more than one kind, more than one model. I estimate how long it will take in my experience of lockpicking to open such a cage.

They pushed me in and locked the door.

My eyes weren't adjusting to this darkness.

When I was a child, I often encountered this kind of darkness, the darkness that was overwhelming and suffocating me. It's not so much the darkness as the feeling. I can only chase it away with numbers. I thought that the numbers were exactly the same as the pendulum cycles in my mentor's experiment. Some things are so similar and yet so different.

“XCK42.”

The sound of the DTR35 saved me. I didn't expect them to lock us up.

"Where is this?" I asked softly, worried that there were people guarding us outside.

"This used to be my room, now it's for the three of us." "I've been living here for a week," he said, " "It looks like another storage room, but the shelves are all gone, and it still smells of preservatives.

"House arrest." 774 growled in anger. He was frozen in a corner in an extremely uncomfortable position by magnetically balanced handcuffs, like a convulsive sculpture of a human body.

"He beat up those bodyguards, and that's it. I think we should be quieter. "But there's no monitoring." Anyway, Stefan has already laid a net of heaven and earth, the height here, these guards, we are still unarmed. ”

"yes, it's useless for us to shout about the height here." I know there won't be windows in the pantry. I saw a glimmer of light, coming from a small vent. There is not a single breeze here. I'm starting to worry if the air is enough for a few of us. I fear that the next day they will only see dead bodies that are dead and bruised. I pity 774 for his dead posture.