404 froze in place. Hong Min could see the conflict in his stillness—not an emotional conflict, but a cold war between the lines of his programming. The "Rule to defeat the enemy" versus the "Rule to protect Hong Min." This contradiction had led to total paralysis.

  A voice emanated from the machine. It wasn't the roar of a beast, but a metallic, synthetic sound, devoid of any inflection.

  "Retreat, entity. Or this organic unit will be terminated."

  The words were a clear threat, and the slight pressure of the blade on Hong Min’s neck was its confirmation. 404 didn't move, but Hong Min felt the air being cut off from his lungs. It was over. His only ally, his only strength, was just a malfunctioning machine standing helpless before him. Everything he had been through—all the pain, all the misery, all the running—would end here, in this dark cavern, as a machine's hostage, while his "guardian" watched in silence.

  Something inside Hong Min shattered. It wasn't anger; it was absolute despair. Hot tears began to stream from his eyes, tears he hadn't shed since he was a child being kicked in the alleys of Chang'an.

  "Damn it..." he whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "Damn all of this! I haven't traveled the world... I haven't seen anything..."

  He remembered his mother's hateful face, the mocking laughter of the other children, and the humiliating slap from his boss. His entire life had been a series of defeats and humiliations.

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  "Damn my hair... Damn my whole life!" he cried out in a bitter sob, no longer caring about the monster or 404. He had completely surrendered to the weight of his own pathetic existence.

  In the midst of this breakdown, as tears blurred his vision, his eyes caught something. On the ground, just a few meters away, lay the machine's shattered right arm, the one 404 had torn off. It was still sparking intermittently, flashing with a faint light.

  A mad idea. A plan born from the womb of absolute despair. Not a plan for victory, but to create a single second of chaos. A single second that might change everything.

  Hong Min gathered the last of his breath, and the tone of his voice changed from a cry of despair to a sharp, sudden shout of command, directed at the frozen entity before him.

  "The arm! That arm you cut off! Throw it at it... NOW!"

  It was a strange, unexpected command, but it was clear and specific.

  404 received the order. His programming was no longer in conflict. He had been given a new task that did not contradict his rules. "Throw object A at point B."

  In a split second, 404 bent down with an agility that defied his size, picked up the sparking metal arm, and with a powerful spin, hurled it with immense force.

  The machine, with its defensive programming that analyzed any projectile as a threat, made a single mistake. It turned its head for a fleeting moment to track the trajectory of the arm hurtling toward it.

  That was the decisive second.

  The instant the machine turned its crimson lenses, 404 exploded into motion. He was no longer bound by indecision. He moved with a speed beyond anything Hong Min had seen before.

  Hong Min didn't see the attack. All he felt was the cold metal grip that had been choking him suddenly release. He fell to the stone floor, gasping and coughing, air rushing into his burning lungs like liquid fire.

  He raised his head with difficulty, only to see 404's massive body now standing between him and the machine, an impenetrable rock wall shielding him from danger.

  He was free. And for the first time, the air that filled his lungs tasted of survival.