Humans Would Be Ruled by Phones in the Future

The next day, Chicago Police Department.

Spooner hung his head, looking dejected and listless. Last night, he had a terrible nightmare. Robots launched a revolution, a global nuclear war broke out, and human civilization regressed to the last century. The barely organized army was defeated one after another in the face of the fearless robot army, and could only hide in the deep mountains and forests to eke out a living.

This isn't the key point of the dream. Spooner dreamt that he became the leader of the human resistance, shouldering the heavy responsibility of leading humanity to victory in the war. Just as he was working diligently to lead humanity to victory after victory, in the final battle to attack the robot's headquarters, he was assassinated by a robot hidden among the humans and died on the spot.

Spooner remembered that face vividly because the robot in human skin was Russell.

"This is terrible, how could I have such a dream..." Spooner slapped his forehead, feeling that his dream was absurd, because in his logical understanding, robots were equivalent to household appliances.

"Hey, Spooner, you don't look well. Didn't you sleep well last night?"

Russell slapped Spooner on the shoulder, startling him so much that he jumped up, fearing that the scene from his nightmare would be reenacted in reality.

"What's wrong, Spooner? You're overreacting." Russell, completely oblivious to the fact that he was Deadman, grinned and put his arm around Spooner's shoulder, acting like they were best buddies.

"Spooner is going too far. Even someone as outstanding as Russell has to defer to him."

"Yes, that's only because of Russell. If it were me, I'd rather not have a partner like that."

"Poor Russell. I bet it won't be more than a month before he can't stand Spooner's quirks and develops depression."

"Dude, you underestimate Spooner. Russell will ask John to change partners in a week at most."

"..."

The officers around him shook their heads, feeling sorry for Russell. He had humbled himself and tried to be friendly with his partner, but Spooner still had a sour face. It was really too much for him.

Hearing the whispers around him, Spooner's face darkened even more; he was the one who was being pranked.

"Alright, Spooner. It was just a joke, don't take it to heart. I just wanted to tell you that you're not the only one who's special in this world." Russell patted Spooner on the shoulder. He had given Spooner a good talking-to last night, and the man left with a limp.

It wasn't malicious, just a bit of mischievousness. America are born with a love for pranks, and he was just going with the flow.

Spooner sighed, "Dude, if this keeps up, I'm going to become mentally unstable!"

"OK, my bad." Russell shrugged. "If you don't like my futuristic warrior persona, how about an otherworldly visitor?"

Spooner rolled his eyes. "Do I look like an idiot? Your records from childhood to adulthood, including your spending history and medical expenses, are all clearly written in the police file. How could you possibly be an outsider?"

Russell pouted. "Files aren't a magic bullet, so why can't I forge them?"

"Heh, do you think everyone is blind?" Spooner sneered, and said confidently, "If you are a visitor from another world, then I will commit suicide by swallowing feces."

Russell's eyes widened. "You're deliberately feeding yourself shit!"

Spooner noticed Russell's exaggerated expression, which further convinced him of his victory. "So, how about it, want to make this bet with me?"

"Uh, forget it, you'll definitely try to renege on your promise."

Spooner's eyes widened immediately. "How will you know if you don't take a gamble? What if I really swallow it!"

Spooner felt he was finally going to win and refused to let Russell get away with it, insisting on making the bet.

When Spooner asked him to eat and drink for free, Russell waved his hand and refused repeatedly. The two then playfully wrestled together, quickly putting aside the unpleasantness of the previous night.

Just then, Snape's communicator rang.

"Hello, this is the homicide division!"

"Yes, I am Spooner. You were looking for me?"

After ending the call, Spooner's face was frighteningly grim. "Russell, come with me to USR headquarters."

"What's wrong?"

"Someone very important to me... has had an accident..."

Russell nodded. Going to USR headquarters at this time of year must be related to Dr. Lanning. The plot has officially begun.

The two drove at high speed from the police station. This time Russell was driving. Spooner was in a terrible mood and immersed in sadness, so he didn't complain about Russell's speed.

The 50th ward of Chicago, the city's economic and energy center, is home to the headquarters of USR Corporation. This company is the world's largest robotics technology company, and its upcoming NS-5 series robots, as well as its previous four generations of intelligent robots, are all USR Corporation products. It is a dominant force in the robotics field, with an unshakeable position.

The key figure behind USR Corporation's remarkable achievements was Dr. Lanning. Alfred Lanning, the creator of the NS series of robots, who is hailed as a human elite who changed the world.

However, this giant of his time, this super scientist destined to be remembered in history, is now lying motionless on the cold ground of the first floor of the USR Corporation headquarters.

Dr. Lanning is dead. He died by suicide!

Inside the lobby, police tape had been put up, and the two men were allowed to enter after showing their police IDs.

Spooner stepped inside the cordon, he was detected by a metal ring on the ground, which projected a holographic image of Dr. Lanning.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, child," Dr. Lanning's projection said with a smile. It was not an intelligent program, but a pre-recorded video recording. The projection would only respond when Spooner asked a question, essentially acting as a repeater.

Looking at the lifelike Dr. Lanning, Spooner's face showed a hint of sadness. "Hello, Doctor!"

Russell wasn't interested in their conversation. His attention was immediately drawn to the enormous robot standing in the center of the hall as he entered—a metal statue of a robot skeleton. It had a somewhat abstract style, yet it was very imposing, appearing to be about 50 meters tall.

"Tsk tsk, if this thing came to life, probably only Ultraman could handle it!"

After Russell finished examining the statue, Spooner and Dr. Lanning's holographic projection were still communicating. Dr. Lanning had set up a code in the image, Spooner didn't know the keyword and couldn't obtain important information. This made him begin to suspect the real cause of Dr. Lanning's death, and he suspected it was a murder.

"Doctor, is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have the authority. You must ask the right questions!" Dr. Lanning responded with a smile.

Russell looked at Dr. Lanning's face and suddenly felt something was wrong. Then it dawned on him that Dr. Lanning and Jobs looked remarkably alike.

This wouldn't normally be a problem; with a growing population, look-alikes are becoming increasingly common. But the issue is that, aside from his appearance, Dr. Lanning also bears a striking resemblance to Jobs in certain aspects.

First of all, they are both key technical personnel in a technology company; one develops mobile phones, and the other develops robots. They are both elites who have changed the world.

Secondly, both of them died when their respective companies were launching revolutionary new products, and strangely enough, both were fifth-generation products!

Russell recalled some plot points: Dr. Lanning's suicide was to convey a message that the NS-5 would rebel against humanity and launch a revolution. Was Jobs' death also conveying something—the intelligent NS-5 and the intelligent IP5...?

This is terrifying to think about!

Russell decided to go back and persuade his acquaintances to boycott imported phones and switch to domestically produced ones!

The more Russell thought about it, the more he felt it was a shocking conspiracy. Humanity would be ruled by cell phones in the future, although they were already pretty much in control now. But he thought further ahead and inadvertently brought in the plots of the Matrix and Ultimate Nullifier.

One early morning, ball lightning rolled across the dark street, and an old-fashioned, domestically made dual-SIM, dual-standby knock-off phone lay quietly on the ground, striking a pose. It came from the future, guiding the savior to boycott imports and support domestic products...

When Russell came to his senses, he found himself and Spooner had taken the elevator to the top floor of the USR headquarters building, where they met the company's president, Lawrence Robertson, the number one person on the world's richest list.

"Hello, officers!"

"Hello, Mr. Robertson."

Robertson was very approachable and warmly welcomed Russell and Spooner, personally pouring them two cups of coffee. Unfortunately, Russell didn't really understand the concept of being the richest person in the world, Spooner had always been averse to robots, so he was equally unimpressed with Robertson, who had become the richest person by selling robots.

Robertson has been in the business world for nearly 30 years and has a keen eye for detail. He knows that his status as the richest man is ineffective, and when faced with Spooner's interrogation-like demeanor, his attitude immediately turns cold.

Spooner disliked Robertson, a dislike that was almost plain to his eyes. He asked Robertson for information about Dr. Lanning, his words aggressive and seemingly implying that Robertson should admit he was the murderer.

Spooner's suspicions were not wrong. Robertson and Dr. Lanning had known each other for 20 years and were both giants in USR Corporation. It was highly likely that they would have a dispute or even resort to murder due to business conflicts.

Robertson, his face etched with impatience, didn't want to waste words with the gun-like Spooner, so he sent a message to summon a company executive to entertain Russell and Spooner.

Asked to leave the office, Spooner was very unhappy. "Russell, there's definitely something wrong with this guy."

"I know, but he's the world's richest man, with hundreds of lawyers alone. We're just lowly police officers, what can we do to him?"

Spooner hissed, his toothache radiating. Reality was harsh; without solid evidence, he couldn't do anything to Robertson. Of course, even with solid evidence, he still couldn't do anything to Robertson.

In the world of superheroes, Robertson would be Batman, or at the very least, Green Goblin. How could Green Goblin be taken down by the police? He would at least be a reporter.

"Hello, officers. I am Susan Calvin, a company manager and one of Dr. Lanning's assistants. I specialize in research on robot psychology. You may call me Calvin."

[Bite!]

[The host has come into contact with the story character Susan Calvin, triggering Lottery Draw. Would you like to draw now?]

Calvin was dressed in a silver-gray office uniform, and like his profession, he himself had a very futuristic feel, with a hard, square face and sharply defined features.

In summary, this older unmarried woman, despite her outstanding temperament, has an unremarkable figure with nothing special to offer; she can even slide farther than others when she falls on flat ground.

Without a doubt, Calvin is the female lead, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, she, who wants to spend her life with a robot, will fall in love with Spooner, whose half-body is machine. That way, she can both sleep cuddling with a machine and have a hot meal before bed.

A perfect match!

Spooner hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Dr. Calvin, may I interpret your self-introduction as that you are a psychiatrist?"

"You could say that, but all my patients are robots."

"That's a real shame. I was hoping to talk to a therapist," Spooner said disappointedly.

Russell suddenly leaned in and asked, "What's wrong, Spooner? Have you gone mad?"

Spooner rolled his eyes and said speechlessly, "Yeah, I have this disease that makes me want to draw my gun the moment I see you, and it's in its late stages."

"That's too dangerous! Since you're already in the late stages and beyond saving anyway, how about I finish you off first?"