After six, daylight fully broke, and Hua Gang decided to speed up.
Before that, in the pitch-dark night, he had covered only forty kilometers in three hours. His bicycle had no lights, and if he rode too fast, he might fall into a ditch.
After resting for a while and eating a piece of chocolate he had brought with him, he followed a rural dirt road without cameras and rode east.
An excellent cyclist could ride hundreds of kilometers in one go.
At speeds exceeding fifty kilometers per hour.
But Hua Gang could not do that.
He had fled in too much of a hurry. His bicycle was too shabby, and it was not even his own professional bike.
He had not brought his own because he was afraid it might have been tampered with.
But he had no choice but to leave in a hurry. If he waited too long, he feared someone would discover Little Panda's existence.
When that happened, this earth-shattering artificial intelligence would no longer belong to him.
Wait, when had he started believing that this artificial intelligence was bound to him? As he rode, the question suddenly came to mind.
Right. He had definitely read too many novels. The moment a system appeared, he assumed it was bound to him.
Yet in reality, the other party had never said such a thing from beginning to end.
Then came the problem: after he had gone through so much trouble to reach the Tribal Jungle, what if it suddenly said, "I've taken a liking to another guy"?
Wouldn't that be just like all those blind dates he had been on?
He worked hard, gave so much, labored every day, went hungry and ate grass, gave gifts... Thinking he had reached the final step, only to be rejected