Chapter 6: Shadow Distillation

I. Assassination strikes again

The night was thick, like black paint splashed over Brooklyn. The fog seeped into the streets from the Hudson River, swallowing up all the light. Niu Aihua staggered back to her hiding place - an abandoned apartment. The gauze on her shoulder was bleeding, and the cold touch stuck to her skin. The wound on her leg was still aching, like a needle prick reminding her of last night's life-and-death escape. She pushed open the door. The room was as dark as a cemetery. Only the faint street light outside the window came in, outlining the vague outlines of the shabby furniture. She had just put down her backpack when the window glass suddenly exploded. A dart rubbed her face and nailed into the wall. The feathers on its tail trembled, with a faint smell of bitter almonds, like the smell of death on Zhou Ming's body.

She pounced on the floor and rolled behind the sofa. Her movements were as fast as an instinct trained thousands of times. Her hand touched the electric baton, and her fingertips trembled slightly due to nervousness. Outside the window, the red lights of the drones flashed, like a group of bloodthirsty eyes peering through the fog, and the low engine sound came from afar, like the roar of a beast. She cursed: "Again?" Her voice was low and angry, and the chase at the dock and the escape on the seventh floor flashed through her mind. She whispered: "Sun umbrella, you are really not afraid of death."

The footsteps approached, heavy and rapid, like a group of hounds rushing into the hunting ground. Two masked men climbed in through the window, wearing tight black clothes, like shadows in the night, holding injection guns, and the barrels flashed coldly in the dim light. She dodged the first shot by turning sideways, and the injection shot on the wall, emitting white smoke, and the pungent smell penetrated into her nose, like the poison gas in a chemical laboratory. She swung the stick and hit one person's wrist, the bone cracked crisply, like breaking a piece of ice, the syringe fell to the ground and rolled to the corner of the wall. She was about to fight back, and another masked man rushed over and pushed his knee against her abdomen with a fierce force, as if he was going to break her ribs. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the man's arm, twisted it back to release the force, and pressed the electric baton against his neck. With a flash of lightning, the man twitched and fell to the ground, with white foam pouring out of his mouth, like a fish that was electrocuted.

The first masked man climbed up, took out a dagger and stabbed him, the blade slashing a cold light in the dark. Niu Aihua ducked to avoid it, and the dagger cut through her jacket, the fabric tearing sound was harsh, as if it was tearing open her defenses. She grabbed his wrist and slammed it against the wall, the dagger slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground with a clang. She kicked him in the knee and growled, "Who sent you here?" Her voice was angry and trembling, and her eyes were like knives stabbing at the other party. The masked man groaned and didn't answer, and took advantage of her distraction to knock her away, and escaped through the window, his movements were panic, like a wounded wild dog.

Niu Aihua was panting, her chest heaving violently, and picked up the syringe on the ground. The residual liquid in the syringe smelled of bitter almonds, the same as Zhou Ming's body. She clenched her fists, her nails dug into her palms, and whispered, "Sun umbrella, you are not done." The cabins at the dock and the servers on the seventh floor appeared in her mind, and she whispered, "I can't sleep unless I destroy you." She took a deep breath, the air was mixed with blood and mold, and whispered, "Next time, I will do it first."

2. The ghost appeared

At three o'clock in the morning, a note was stuffed into the crack of the apartment door, like a ghost in the middle of the night. Niu Aihua picked it up and saw that the handwriting was crooked, as if it was written with a trembling hand: "I'm downstairs, don't call the police." She opened the window, and the cold wind blew in her face. A masked man stood on the street corner outside the window, smoking with his head down, and the cigarette butt flickered in the fog, like a lonely signal light. She hesitated for a moment, grabbed the electric baton, pushed the door and went downstairs, and her boots stepped on the stairs and made a dull sound, as if knocking on her own destiny.

The masked man took off his mask, revealing a haggard face full of tired wrinkles and bloodshot eyes, as if he had endured countless sleepless nights. He whispered, "My name is Arnold, a former technician in Area C. I ran out because I couldn't stand it anymore." His voice was hoarse and low, and his fingers were holding a cigarette, shaking like dead leaves in the wind. He handed her a USB flash drive, the surface of which was severely worn, as if it had been held in his hands countless times, "They know you took something and are ready to destroy the evidence."

Niu Aihua took the USB flash drive and looked at him coldly, her eyes as sharp as a knife: "Why are you helping me?" Her voice was cold and hard, with suspicion, and her fingers unconsciously pressed the electric baton, as if she was ready to fight back at any time.

Arnold lowered his head, his voice trembling, as if he was suppressing some kind of pain: "My sister was also in Area C, she died. They said she was 'voluntarily', but I know she was squeezed dry." He paused, his eyes red, and whispered: "She was a chemist, she went there for money, 100,000 yuan, seven days, she said she could pay off the mortgage. But she didn't come back, her body was burned, not even the ashes were left." He looked up, his eyes burning, like a wounded beast, "The USB contains the distillation origin of dreams and the password of the server on the seventh floor."

Niu Aihua clenched the USB, her fingertips felt cold, and whispered: "Is it reliable?" There was doubt in her voice, and Lao Chen's warning flashed through her mind: "Life is not worth seven days."

"Guarantee it with my sister's life." Arnold stared at her, his eyes firm as iron, and growled: "Destroy them. I ran out for this." He paused and whispered: "I sneaked back last night and stole this. I almost didn't get out. They found out that I ran away, and now they are chasing me."

Niu Aihua was silent for a moment and whispered, "Okay." She turned back to the building, her steps heavy, and Arnold's voice followed her: "Be careful, they are more ruthless than you think."

3. Jedi Counterattack

The next morning, the fog had not yet dissipated, and Niu Aihua sneaked back to the Sun Umbrella headquarters alone. She put on a fake cleaner's badge, mixed in with the delivery crowd in the backyard, and climbed over the wall from the freight channel, moving as nimbly as a cat. The fog was pervasive, and the building was as cold as a fortress. The glass curtain wall reflected the gray light, like an airtight iron wall. She avoided the camera and got into the maintenance ladder. The rust pierced into her palm, and the smell of blood mixed with sweat. She whispered, "Seventh floor, I'm here."

The door lock of the computer room on the seventh floor was opened by her. There were dozens of servers inside, and the roar was deafening, like a group of roaring beasts. The air was filled with heat waves and the smell of burning wires. The screen showed "Dream Distillation Progress: 89%", and the numbers were jumping, as if devouring life. She inserted Arnold's USB drive, entered the password, and the core file popped up on the screen: more than 100 experimenters in Area C, with a mortality rate of 70%. The list of volunteers was densely packed, and the last line read: "Sacrifice is necessary, approved by Niuske." She gritted her teeth and whispered: "Niuske, you can't run away." Her voice was angry and trembling, and her brother's face appeared in her mind. She whispered: "C-01, I will avenge you."

As she downloaded the data, the alarm sounded suddenly, and the red light flashed, like blood flowing in the computer room. The security guard's shout came from the corridor: "She is on the seventh floor! Catch her!" The voice was rapid and angry, like a pack of hounds approaching. She unplugged the USB drive and rushed to the fire escape. The door behind her slammed shut, and the metal collision sounded deafening. She kicked open a vent and got in. The narrow pipe squeezed her breath. The iron wall was cold, rubbing her wounds, and blood dripped into the pipe.

The pipe led to the underground parking lot. When she rolled out, two security guards blocked the exit with electric batons, and the "S.U.C" logo on their uniforms flashed coldly. She swept one down with a leg sweep, and hit another on the side of the neck with an electric baton. With a flash of lightning, the security guard fell to the ground. She gasped, and the sound of engines approached in the distance. Three black trucks rushed over, and the tires rolled over the ground with a sharp scream. She cursed: "Not good!"

Fourth, rescue survivors

The truck stopped, and the door slammed open. Several masked men dragged out three tied survivors, with cloth strips stuffed in their mouths, catheters inserted in their wrists, and bloodstains. They were volunteers in Area C. Niu Aihua recognized one of the girls. She looked familiar like Arnold's photo. Her thin body trembled, and her eyes were full of fear. She roared: "Let them go!" Her voice was angry and firm, like a mad lioness.

The masked man took out a gun, and the black muzzle was pointed at her, the cold light was dazzling. She rushed to the nearest truck and blocked the bullet with the door. The bullet hit the metal with a crisp sound. She grabbed the lock pick on the ground and hit one person's wrist. The gun fell to the ground and rolled to the corner. She rushed over, knocked down another with her knee, grabbed the gun and aimed it at the roof of the car, opened fire and blew up the tires, the gunshot was deafening, the truck overturned, and the masked man cursed and retreated: "Damn woman!"

She cut the rope of the survivor, her fingers trembling with nervousness, the girl grabbed her hand and said tremblingly: "They want to transfer us and destroy the evidence. They said that no one can be left alive in Area C." Her voice was hoarse, and tears mixed with blood flowed down. Niu Aihua helped her up and whispered: "You are safe." She took out her mobile phone, dialed the anonymous reporter hotline, transferred the USB data, and whispered: "Expose it, the whole world must know." Her voice was low and firm, and Jeffers' face appeared in her mind, and she whispered: "Hold on, I didn't let you down."

Security reinforcements arrived, with chaotic footsteps, like a pack of wolves approaching. She rushed to the back alley with the survivors, the wound on her leg was painful as if it was torn, and blood flowed down her trouser legs. The drone group took off, and the red light approached, like a bloodthirsty eye. She gritted her teeth and threw the electric baton, hitting a drone, sparks flew, and it fell to the ground. She roared: "Run!"

At the end of the alley, the hospital ambulance lit up white lights, like hope in the darkness. She looked back and saw Jeffers being pushed out, his legs wrapped in bandages, his eyes weak but firm, and the corners of his mouth slightly raised, as if saying: "Well done." She shouted: "Hold on, I got it!" The two of them worked together to escort the survivors to the car, the engine roared, breaking through the fog, the wheels rolled over the ground, splashing water, as if tearing open the cage of the night.

V. The hidden line is revealed: the origin and grudges of the distillation of dreams

The hiding place is a shabby warehouse, with wooden boxes piled up in the corners, and the air is mixed with mold and blood. Niu Aihua opened the USB drive and plugged it into the tablet. The encrypted file popped up on the screen. Arnold's voice came from the recording, hoarse and low, like a whisper from the grave: "This is the truth from ten years ago."

Ten years ago: Grok3's failure and the beginning of grievances

The documents show that Niu Sik invested 200,000 top-level graphics cards and spent $10 billion to build Grok3, intending to surpass OpenAI in one fell swoop. However, the test results made him furious: Grok3 performed well in language generation and reasoning, but was only slightly better in complex tasks and creativity, far from an overwhelming victory. The team submitted a report with a glaring title: "Training data is exhausted, human-created content is not enough, and there is too much garbage generated by machines."

Niu Sik sat in the middle of the conference room, his face was livid, and the light reflected on his face, like an angry devil. On the screen in front of him was a comparative analysis table, and Grok3 was only slightly ahead of OpenAI's model in many key indicators. He stood up suddenly, his hands trembling, his voice hoarse: "I spent so much money and used so many resources, and this is all I get?!" He picked up a monitor on the table and smashed it to the ground, shards flying everywhere, as if his dream was shattered. He pointed at the team members and roared: "Tell me, how did we lose?! How did we lose to James Otter and those rubbish?!"

An engineer explained tremblingly: "OpenAI's data pool is larger and of higher quality. They have conversation data of users around the world. Our model lacks diversity..." Before he finished speaking, Niusk interrupted him and roared: "Diversity? Okay, then find me new data! Even if it's from my brain! I don't care about the cost!" His voice echoed in the conference room, cold and crazy, and his eyes burned with paranoid flames.

This anger is not just a simple technical failure, but a personal grudge that has been buried for ten years. The documents revealed that Niusk and James Otter, the founder and chief scientist of OpenAI, were classmates at Stanford University. The two worked together on neural networks. Niuske proposed a breakthrough data extraction theory, but it was plagiarized and published by Ultrafast. The paper became famous overnight, and Ultrafast received huge funding to found OpenAI, while Niuske was marginalized and became a laughing stock. Niuske once questioned Ultrafast in person, but he got a sneer: "Science is ruthless, and the strong survive." From then on, Niuske vowed to crush Ultrafast in his own way. Grok3 was his first step in revenge, but it ended in failure.

The beginning of dream extraction

The following year, a neuroscientist proposed a bold idea to Niuske: "Dreams are an untapped treasure trove, containing a large amount of high-quality raw data. If dreams can be extracted and analyzed through technologies such as Neuralink, it can provide AI with unprecedented training materials, surpassing any existing database." Niuske sneered after hearing this, with a slight upward curve of his mouth, with a hint of madness: "Can you make money by dreaming? Interesting. Ultra Express got carried away by chat data, I will use dreams to step on him." He immediately allocated funds to start the experiment, with a fire of revenge in his eyes, and whispered: "I want his empire to tremble under my feet."

Experiments and costs

In the first year, the team tested on monkeys and tigers and successfully decoded some simple dreams, such as chasing prey or looking for food. However, these data were too rough to satisfy Niuske's ambitions. He glanced at the report coldly, with a cold tone: "The brains of animals are not enough, give me people! I want more complex and richer data. Ultra Express uses human language, I want to use human souls!"

In the second year, the C area experimental field was built and volunteers began to be recruited. The initial publicity was under the banner of "optimizing sleep quality" and promised high remuneration, attracting highly educated people such as scientists, doctors, and financial elites. However, after the experiment went deeper, problems emerged: the mental state of the volunteers deteriorated rapidly, some screamed and tore their scalps, and some self-harmed to death. Niuske didn't care. He personally inspected Area C and saw the volunteers in the cabin, whispering: "This is my gold mine, which Ultra Express would never have thought of."

After the "Dream Distillation" technology was launched, the algorithm screened high-quality dreams, eliminated noise, and AI performance improved by leaps and bounds. Niuske's company became famous overnight, but he didn't care about it. He only stared at Ultra Express's dynamics and whispered: "I want him to know who is the real king." The document records that the mortality rate of the first batch of volunteers reached 30%, and the team suggested a pause. Niuske signed directly: "Continue, sacrifice is the price of progress. Ultra Express stepped on my paper to get to the top, and I want to step on these wastes to surpass him." His handwriting was messy and hurried, as if he was suppressing his manic emotions.

Niu Aihua stared at the screen and saw her brother's name: "C-01, experiment terminated, brain damage irreversible, incineration." She clenched her fists, her eyes red, and growled: "You used my brother as a test subject!" Her voice was angry and trembling, and her brother's letter emerged in her mind: "The seventh floor will destroy people." She whispered: "It will destroy you and me."

Six, the truth is exposed

In the early morning, the TV news exploded, and the screen flickered, as if announcing the end of the world: "The illegal experiment of the Sun Umbrella Company was exposed, and the mortality rate exceeded 70%!" The reporter played the USB data, and Niu Si's signature was clearly visible, like a blood-written indictment. The crowd on the street was angry, and the victims' families held signs to protest. The shouts penetrated the fog, like a cry of revenge. Niu Aihua stood in front of the window and whispered: "It's over."

The phone vibrated, it was Jeffers' weak voice: "Well done, I'm awake." His tone was smiling, like a glimmer of light in the fog. She smiled and whispered, "I owe you a meal. Come back and treat me." Her voice was low and gentle. Jeffers in the hospital appeared in her mind. She whispered, "You have to eat it alive."

Outside the window, the fog dissipated, and the red lights of the Sun Umbrella Building dimmed, like a behemoth with its head cut off. She clenched the USB drive and whispered, "Brother, I didn't let you die in vain." She took a deep breath, the musty smell in the air was pungent, and she whispered, "Niuske, your doomsday is coming."