novelden Chapter 790
Chapter 790
Chapter 790
In the center of the room, a large painting is bathed in dim, yellow light.
Miro's classmates were immediately drawn to the painting.
That was a stunning work of art.
The enormous, intricate geometric shapes, radiating a soft blue light, are exquisitely beautiful and fluid.
At a glance, Milo's classmates recognized that it represented AI. This style of geometric shape is now used in many contexts to symbolize artificial intelligence, and virtual images used in communication with AI are similar, although not exactly the same, but their meaning is immediately recognizable.
The two are practically intertwined.
This geometric shape occupies the center of the canvas, its structure complex yet orderly.
Countless fine rays of light extend from the core, spreading outwards like a neural network.
Each segment of the neural network is surrounded by many tiny, bright points of light, each with a different shape and vibrant color.
These points of light seem to dance on the canvas, so lifelike that they almost leap off the paper.
They flow, leap, and fly; each one is unique, yet they all convey a joyful and uplifting emotion.
They intertwine with geometric patterns and lines to form an exquisite whole.
The intricate lines vaguely reveal a microcosm of the city, resembling both a blueprint for a city under construction and a design drawing for a sophisticated machine.
These richly layered lines seem to possess a magical power—you can interpret anything you want to see from them, if you wish.
Despite the intricate lines, the image doesn't appear dirty; it's a very peculiar feeling.
The entire image is filled with order, light, and harmony, depicting a utopian vision of perfect collaboration and co-evolution between AI and humanity.
"Perfect proportions, superb angles, amazing creativity..." Miro's classmate didn't know how to express his shock.
This is undoubtedly a masterpiece, establishing order in chaos and expressing the infinite within the finite, and it also employs a technique he had never seen before.
"Was Miro studying this technique before? No wonder he didn't have time for classes."
He approached cautiously, not even daring to breathe loudly, for fear of disturbing the artwork before him. It was clearly an inanimate object, yet it seemed to be breathing with life.
"It's perfect."
"Yeah?"
"My God! Where did you come from?" Milo's classmate blurted out in surprise.
He was completely unaware that a pair of eyes suddenly emerged from the writhing shadow beside him.
"What are you doing hiding here? Did you scare me on purpose or did it accidentally?"
Miró didn't answer the question, but instead said to himself, "It seems you don't understand it. Mr. Shin-chan has also seen it, and he said it's a good piece, but there are risks involved."
"Risk?" Miro was completely bewildered. He looked at Miro, then at the painting, and didn't understand the meaning of the sentence at all.
"Wait, you said Shin-chan-sensei has already seen it? When did that happen?"
"Just a short while ago," Milo said softly, walking slowly to the window, his voice as gentle as a dream, "aren't you curious? Why does this painting look finished, yet there are still so many extending lines in the room?"
Without hesitation, Miró replied, "They're auxiliary lines. When conceiving a painting, artists often add more lines outside the canvas to complete the artistic conception, ultimately retaining only the most brilliant parts as the soul of the work, while the rest are superfluous."
"Yeah?"
Milo gave a noncommittal response.
He walked to the window and suddenly pulled the curtains open to both sides.
Moonlight poured in, illuminating the lines of the walls and furniture. Those lines, which originally seemed chaotic, gradually began to glow with a hazy luminescence under the moonlight.
"Now take another look?"
Milo's voice was soft yet alluring, making it irresistible.
Milo sighed helplessly, "Milo, just say what's on your mind, don't be so mysterious..." Before he could finish speaking, the scene before him shocked him so much that his pupils shrank and his whole body trembled.
Those seemingly random, abstract, and even chaotic brushstrokes on the wall are by no means redundant.
Under the moonlight, the lines vary in brightness—the closer to the center of the painting, the brighter the light; the farther away from the painting, the thicker the lines and the more intense the light. This is clearly a deliberate design by the painter.
The elegant lines in the main painting gradually become thicker and denser on the walls, furniture, beds, and railings, like spreading vines or proliferating blood vessels, exploring and covering every corner.
The areas where people move around, such as beds and chairs, are deliberately left blank, but unique deep red lines are drawn around the heads, hands, and hearts of these human shadow figures.
No, it's not deep red, but rather a deep red illusion created by the persistence of vision using multiple colors.
Realizing this, he quickly looked around.
In the corner, bold, dark blue lines were dotted with small, deep red dots; on the ceiling, the originally dim light now cast deep shadows.
A chill, like a venomous snake, crept up his spine.
He turned his gaze back to the main painting in the center of the room.
Now, everything is different.
The brain automatically and forcibly associates environmental information with the main image and reinterprets it.
He didn't know how this was done, but the meaning of the main painting, which originally symbolized harmonious coexistence, had undergone a terrible reversal.
The light rays that originally connected humans to the AI in the main painting have now become binding chains.
Numerous scarlet points of light are converging toward the central geometric pattern, flowing rapidly like blood with each blink.
The areas around the geometric patterns that were originally blank are now covered with layers of proliferating material, resembling both a nurturing mother and a spreading tumor.
The seemingly free points of light surrounding it were now bound by lines. As they swayed, the scarlet points of light flowed through the channels formed by the lines, continuously supplying the tumor in the center.
I was amazed by how lifelike the painting was before, but now I feel terrified.
"This...this can't be real, right?"
Milo's classmate groaned.
He now understands why Mr. Shin-chan said the painting was dangerous.
But what puzzled him was that since Teacher Shin-chan knew about the danger, why didn't she warn him in time? There was plenty of time.
He neither understood Shin-chan nor Milo.
Why would Miró paint such a picture? This is clearly a slander and defamation of AI. How dare he?
Milo immediately realized his predicament.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I don't know anything. I'll leave now."
He immediately decided to slip away, not even bothering to put on his shoes by the door, and ran quickly towards the door.
Milo didn't stop him, or even say anything; he just watched quietly.
He watched the man slow down from his initial swiftness, eventually stopping at the doorway, unable to move an inch.
The visiting student turned slightly toward the door, his muscles tense, every cell screaming "Run!"
However, his feet seemed to be nailed to the spot by invisible shackles, and something heavier than fear weighed him down, making him unable to move.
He turned to look at Milo: "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get my shoes?"
silence.
Milo's classmate sighed, "Alright, alright, you've piqued my curiosity. What exactly do you want?"
Miro did not answer immediately.
He slowly raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the other person, landing on the central painting that contained a dual truth.
There was no madness or provocation in his eyes, only a chilling clarity and an unfathomable compassion.
"I don't want anything."
"I am giving."
"You'll remember it. Whenever you see a well-ordered, glamorous world, you'll recall what you saw today."
After saying that, Milo lowered his head, closed his eyes, and seemed to be swallowed by the shadows.
After a moment's hesitation, the student finally asked, "What's the name of this painting?"
Miró answered softly, "It's called 'Silent Murder,' by Marcel."
"The more you know, the more disadvantageous it is for you. You should understand this principle."
Marcel said softly, "Shin-chan is on your side, isn't she? You know my personality. When I'm curious about something, nothing can stop me. I can't control my curiosity, so I only have two choices: either I never know, or I go all the way down this path."
"I really like your 'gift'."
"I understand what you're trying to say, but it is indeed very dangerous. I will wait for the right opportunity. If the time isn't right, I won't say or do anything. I hope that opportunity will come in my lifetime."
Milo didn't look up or open his eyes, but simply replied softly, "Yes, that day will come."
Marcel didn't ask any further questions, only saying, "If possible, it's best to maintain a normal routine, so at least you won't attract attention. If you really don't have time, I can help you submit your homework."
……
The third research group was established.
This group is unique; it's a personal studio with only one member. These types of personal studios require a mentor on the application process, but very few professors participate in student projects, let alone freshmen… unless the mentor has a particularly high opinion of the student.
Inside the laboratory, Virgil and Delayat were discussing this matter.
In the office, everyone's thinking is enhanced, giving them extra thinking units, so they can handle their work with ease and even use their terminals to study video courses.
Multitasking is one of their specialties.
Of course, Virgil and De Layat would usually keep track of their own information channels to stay informed and look for opportunities to exploit.
"I heard he's a painter."
"It seems he really has some skills, either his technical skills are excellent or his methods are clever. It's not an easy thing to persuade a teacher to guarantee his project."
Virgil flipped through the terminal and chuckled, "As expected of a new teacher. Only teachers like this can be exploited. Old AIs like yours and mine, who have been here for thirty years, have long lost their ambition. For them, accumulating resources step by step is the safest path."
"They don't even intend to support a project as promising as ours..."
"But what if that young AI wins the bet? That would be a meteoric rise. Even AIs seem to be prone to impulsiveness when it comes to art."
Martin asked curiously, "What are you talking about?"
Virgil shrugged. "Nothing much. Just started a new research group, still operating as a personal studio. Only artists can afford to do that."
"How come I haven't heard about this? I haven't received any notification to everyone either."
"Because only the first group to be established in each major profession category is qualified to send out a general notification. The first spot in the arts category went to Edward. This guy named Milo was a bit unlucky; if he had been half a day earlier, he might have been able to grab the opportunity and achieve a milestone."
"Speaking of which, there are really a lot of amazing people in this year's class. In previous years, the first-year students didn't have any research projects at all, but this semester, before even midterms, there are already three research groups."
Just as they were talking, Martin's terminal suddenly received a message.
It is the library's official promotional account.
We had already released their news before, and after Edward established the research group, we rushed to produce another report. Now, we have added a third report.
The news swept through the entire library like a whirlwind.
"The third research group was formed. They won the research grants without any review based on just one work. It is said that they pioneered a completely new painting technique."
"Textbooks for painting-related professions have been supplemented with this new technique, as well as the example image 'Harmonious Evolution'."
The message included an image titled "Harmonious Evolution," which was the painting in question.
Martin clicked his tongue in amazement: "It's really beautiful. I've heard that the unique thing about this technique is that viewers can follow their own ideas and see what they want from the surrounding chaotic lines."
"It's really true! I can even see the molecular formula, it's amazing. Does this painter have such a wide range of knowledge? He's even studied pharmacology... and more than one kind, it's truly interesting."
"I saw that too..." Virgil said. "It's clear that a lot of effort was put into this painting. It's really not easy to integrate so much information while maintaining its beauty."
"However, what does that have to do with us?"
"It's related."
Fio, the senior student behind them, spoke up.
"Someone has pre-ordered our bionic robot prototype and is willing to provide resources. Noah has agreed, and we are ready to start work. We will complete the preliminary work first. Milo will be here soon, and we need to collect his information to tailor a concept robot for him."
"Take a look first; this is our basic conceptual structure."
Just then, the group of people were stunned—a large amount of new knowledge about the structural framework of manned robots had suddenly been uploaded to their knowledge network.
"My god, what kind of stimulant did Senior Fio take? He finished so quickly, and it looks flawless..."
The group turned around in unison to look at senior student Fio behind them.
Fio uploaded all the knowledge to the knowledge node at once, feeling more and more thought units attaching to his nerves. He slowly opened his eyes and sighed, "Only today do I realize who I am. I've wasted too much time, and only now have I found what I truly want to do."