NOVEL NEXT Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Players at the Chessboard
Bishop Karl's response to Italo's requests grew evasive—an inevitability, given their lack of substantial justification for such endeavors.
The first issue was straightforward: they were genuinely short on funds.
The Chaotic Zone's technological capabilities lagged at least two generations behind the Empire's standards. While they had achieved breakthrough advantages in certain fields due to their unrestricted experimental methodologies, such advances were destined to remain isolated cases—shackled by both inherent resource constraints and fundamental infrastructural deficiencies.
Artificial intelligent life remained fundamentally dependent on supercomputing capabilities. The resources required to effectively upgrade and optimize Italo—both in monetary terms and intangible assets—would suffice to cultivate one or two new Bishops from scratch.
Base costs were already astronomical, and when factoring in logistical challenges and market scarcity principles, even considering a purchase would drain anyone's coffers dry.
Even the Astral Express, despite being the youngest and most ambitious of voices among the celestial bodies, merely attempted to forge an incomplete numerical advantage by increasing their ratio of Aberrant Black Boxes. The prospect of investing in next-generation hardware remained entirely off the table.
Secondly, from Karl's perspective, enhancing intelligent life seemed largely unnecessary.
In the past, the Chaotic Zone's three major assassin organizations had sold everything they owned, lived on bare minimums, navigated complex relationships to establish smuggling routes, and ultimately acquired decommissioned laboratory hardware to gamble on creating intelligent life through Aberrant Black Boxes. At the time, it had felt like installing a revolutionary system update.
Yet in retrospect, they discovered that their formerly inferior opponents could match them without such investments, while their peers had all undergone their own updates—leaving everyone locked in the same delicate balance of power.
Karl understood intimately the toll of forced internal competition, particularly given how the three organizations maintained their triangular power structure of controlled conflict. Even if one faction suddenly gambled recklessly, the other two could unite temporarily to buy time for their own updates.
This explained why the two veterans had offered minimal resistance to the Astral Express's rise to prominence.
As for achieving absolute victory in one stroke... impossible. Every survivor of that era held this conviction with the same certainty as knowing that seventeen cards couldn't deliver an instant win.
The Empire could manage it—Lady Helen of Near-Divine Rank dominated the virtual realm and data sea absolutely, but that was as absurd as a meteor strike in an age of cold steel.
Sure, a meteor could obliterate any army from the era of cold weapons, but suggest during an ordinary battle that a meteor might strike, and you'd be dismissed as mad.
A certain Mr. Wang, who preferred anonymity, expressed his skepticism about this assessment.
From Karl's standpoint, additional funding remained out of the question. If investments were to be made, they could wait until after the Astral Express's mystic experimental unit Claudius proved successful in its research.
"Besides," Karl pointed out, "you're Italo. Surely even Aristarchos and Claudius combined couldn't overcome you?"
In the realm of intelligent life, an unwritten law held that shorter names signified greater power, while weaker entities required longer true names to maintain their existence. At three characters, Italo could barely manage against one six-character plus one five-character opponent.
"But Aristarchos approaches becoming Arista," the child reminded him with unnerving calm.
"Very well—deploy four additional Chariots and twelve Knights to investigate the previous position," Karl awkwardly diverted the conversation. Italo's persistence regarding funding and equipment upgrades eerily matched their childlike appearance.
"Command transmitted," the child's voice carried that distinctive mechanical quality reserved for official business.
They sat perfectly upright as the virtual map before them gradually dimmed, yielding to a chessboard's emergence.
With pieces arranged in formation, the blind child's fingers delicately lifted a white piece. "Would you care to engage in a game of chess?"
...
"Chess happens to be one of my strengths," Milo observed, watching the hovering mechanical greatsword while manipulating a floating mass of liquid metal to conduct repairs.
The autonomous white bishop glided diagonally across the board, eliminating a knight that had threatened the king.
"Is that so?" Miss Jessica, seated at the table, advanced her queen one space, simultaneously menacing both bishop and king.
The board displayed near total domination, black pieces almost doubling their white counterparts.
"Indeed. Historically, I maintained at least a fifty percent victory rate against opponents," The floating mechanical greatsword ejected components bearing intricate alchemical circuits that interconnected seamlessly, settling into their designated positions.
"Castling," Milo announced with casual confidence. "Checkmate."
On the board, the white king and rook exchanged positions, perfectly entrapping the black king's movement while maintaining pressure.
Miss Jessica studied the position intently before conceding with a resigned nod. "So it is."
The queen, despite her power, stood helpless against this predetermined assassination.
Every threatening white piece teetered on destruction's edge, yet before their final exit, one would inevitably claim the black king's head.
The strategy bore the unmistakable hallmark of Shadowwing assassins. Had Miss Jessica not repeatedly confirmed her safety through mystic arts, she would have fled into the night without hesitation.
"Another round," she declared, resetting the pieces and selecting white. "This time, I'll employ my ability."
As an Astromancy practitioner, her divination could reveal the probability of success for each move.
Though it bordered on unfair play, Miss Jessica's pride demanded satisfaction.
Ten minutes elapsed—she frowned.
Thirty minutes passed—her expression hardened.
An hour dragged by—her teeth clenched in frustration.
Two hours later—consecutive defeats had worn away her spirit, leaving her slumped helplessly across the table.
She had overestimated herself. Divining move probabilities proved useless without any favorable options to choose from.
"Shall we continue?" Milo maintained his composure, though amusement tinged his voice.
"Absolutely," Miss Jessica declared with iron determination and unyielding spirit. "...No."
"After such a streak of losses, could you persevere in my position?" she questioned wearily from her collapsed position.
"But perpetual defeat isn't inevitable," Milo dismantled misaligned joints for adjustment, then, finding it too complex, simply melted the original components for complete reconstruction.
"Ha, what infuriatingly sound logic," Miss Jessica sighed in resignation. "But hypothetically, what if you did face endless losses?"
"That would depend on external factors," Milo responded with characteristic lightness. "Given sufficient time and absence of other obligations, I'd welcome any number of games."
End of Chapter