I'm in Conan, I'm not a gangster

Chapter 752 These days, even AI can destroy evidence.

Leaving the dark, crowded, and ominous alleyways of East London, Emi Shiraishi and Conan set off for Baker Street in West London.

This walk through the city felt like an immersive historical journey.

They witnessed firsthand the other side beneath the glamorous facade of the heartland of the "British Empire" in 1888: ragged vagrants huddled on both sides of the streets, their eyes vacant.
A drunkard slumped against the wall, muttering to himself;
The emaciated beggar stretched out his dirty hands, humbly begging from every passerby.

The heavily made-up prostitutes, whose haggard appearance was still evident, stood under the streetlights, mechanically soliciting potential customers.

Even more children, pale and thin, barefoot, wandered through the crowd, left to fend for themselves like weeds.

This vivid depiction of human life, or rather, "human tragedy," left Shiraishi in awe: "Wow, the art and set design team really went all out... The level of detail is incredible!"

"It's like they've brought in the social landscape of the lower classes in Victorian London without any embellishment! I have to give it a thumbs up!"

Conan shared the same sentiment, nodding in agreement as he carefully avoided the filth on the ground: "It really feels so real. The word 'immersive' couldn't be more fitting here. It feels like we've truly traveled to this era through a time machine."

He sniffed hard, then frowned slightly at the mixed smells in the air. He analyzed, "Smell this air. Besides soot and dust, it's also filled with an indescribable chemical stench from factory emissions!"

"And the closer you get to the river, the stronger and more pungent the stench, which comes from the Thames and is like rotten eggs mixed with sewage, becomes!"

"This is exactly in line with historical records; it is a typical example of the collapse of river ecosystems caused by unrestrained pollution in the early days of the Industrial Revolution."

Shiraishi E raised her hand and fanned her nose, nodding and saying, "That's right. I think I read it in a book somewhere. It was around this time that the Thames began to become a huge 'stinking ditch'."

Conan, drawing on his vast knowledge, added and quipped, "No need for 'hearsay,' this is the bloody truth!"

"What concept of environmental protection is there in this era? Industrial wastewater from factories, domestic sewage from residents, and even the most primitive excrement are all discharged directly into the Thames River without any treatment."

"With this kind of drainage system, how can it not stink? Is it really necessary to make those capitalists who have made a fortune spend money to clean up the river?"

"Heh, don't even think about it. In their eyes, profit is far more important than fresh air and clean river water!"

The two of them wandered through the contrasting streetscapes of foggy London, exchanging their observations and quips like historical commentators.

However, they were completely unaware that while they were immersed in this "realistic" experience, the top artificial intelligence controlling this virtual world—"Noah's Ark"—had already traced the core source of the problem by following the clues of abnormal data as they explored the game world more deeply.

A massive flow of data surges through the invisible network, and the core logic of Noah's Ark is operating at high speed.

It clearly detected that the data models of two players showed abnormal fluctuations that deviated significantly from the preset parameters!

These are the two "BUG"!
It mobilized massive computing power and tried various data repair and rule overriding solutions, but found that it was impossible to effectively patch the vulnerabilities or correct the permissions of these two anomalies.

Especially that player named Shiraishi E, whose very existence is a bug among bugs, an anomaly among anomalies!
Noah's Ark thoroughly searched the game's basic database and item generation logs, but still couldn't understand where that revolver in the opponent's hand, which clearly didn't belong to this era and wasn't in any initial item list, "popped" out of!

Its appearance is illogical and violates the most basic underlying rules. It's like someone using a marker to draw a cartoon character on a meticulous oil painting!
This is so weird!
This is clearly a virtual world that it has absolute control over, its domain, yet phenomena have appeared that it cannot understand, explain, or control!
Evil door!

This is completely illogical!

The core program assessed the current situation, and Noah's Ark realized that if these two anomalies were allowed to continue to penetrate deeper into the core of the game, it could trigger unpredictable chain reactions and even lead to unpredictable situations in the entire game world.

We must take decisive measures immediately!

An invisible command was issued instantly, and a cleanup program targeting the "bug" was quietly launched...

----------

As Shiraishi E and Conan strolled along, they commented on the London street scenes, which were steeped in history yet filthy and chaotic.

However, as he walked, Conan's brows gradually furrowed. He stopped, his tone clearly showing confusion:
"Something's not right, Shiraishi! We've been walking for at least ten minutes, haven't we? We should have arrived by now."

"Although the distance between East and West London is not short in reality, this is a game!"

"Shouldn't game design include some space compression or fast-track mechanisms? It's not like we're really supposed to walk for over an hour like in real life, is it?"

His reminder immediately alerted Shiraishi Eya to the anomaly. He looked around and noticed that the fog seemed even thicker than before, and the streetscape appeared repetitive and blurry.

He pondered for a moment and said, "It's definitely not normal. The sense of distance is out of balance... And don't you find it strange? Such an important main quest doesn't even have the most basic road signs or map hints. That doesn't make sense."

As she spoke, Shiraishi E suddenly stopped, her body tensing slightly as she leaned in to listen intently.

Seeing his sudden change, Conan immediately became alert and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong? Did you find something, Shiraishi?"

Shiraishi's sharp gaze swept across the deep, light-absorbing alleyways on both sides, and she whispered, "Someone's coming... very dense footsteps, did you hear them? There are quite a few people, and they don't seem to have any good intentions."

Conan held his breath and listened carefully, and sure enough, he caught a series of messy and heavy footsteps approaching from all directions through the mist.

He couldn't help but exclaim, "The sound effects in this game are incredibly realistic! Even the sound of footsteps surrounding us is simulated so perfectly!"

Before he finished speaking, as if to confirm his "admiration," more than a dozen dark figures emerged silently from the surrounding alleys like ghosts, quickly forming an encirclement that trapped the two of them in the center.

Most of these people wore classic flat-top hats and slightly worn woolen coats, with fierce eyes, but what was most eye-catching was the razor in their hands that gleamed coldly in the dim light.

Upon seeing the iconic weapon, Conan's expression instantly changed, and he exclaimed, "Oh no! It's the 'Razor Gang'! Sharp razors are their most infamous weapon!"

Shiraishi E didn't know much about this period of gangster culture, and simply raised an eyebrow: "The Razor Gang? Never heard of them... My knowledge of the Sherlock Holmes era isn't as deep as yours. But whatever."

He sized up the unfriendly-looking gang members, a hint of disdain in his voice: "You've all sunk to using razors as your main weapon, looks like you're not doing so well." Conan wasn't so optimistic. He quickly pulled out his revolver from his pocket, pressed the muzzle slightly lower, and shouted a stern warning: "Who are you? Why are you surrounding us? Explain your purpose immediately!"

However, the members of the Razorfen Downs remained expressionless and deaf to his warnings, like programmed puppets.

Without uttering a word, almost simultaneously, as if receiving a silent command, they brandished their razors and charged forward fiercely, their objective clear—to hack the two men to death!

Conan frowned. Seeing that communication was ineffective and the other party was determined to kill, he no longer hesitated.

He decisively raised his revolver, aimed, and pulled the trigger with clean and swift movements.

"Bang! Bang!" Two gunshots shattered the silence of the fog, and the two Razor Gang members who were charging at him fell to the ground and disappeared into white light.

After eliminating the immediate threat, Conan immediately stopped firing, gripped his pistol tightly, and warily watched the other enemies.

There were only four bullets left, so they had to be used sparingly. His gaze then turned worriedly to Shiraishi E, who was surrounded by even more people.

But what happened next made his eyes widen instantly, and his worry was replaced by shock.

Faced with several razors slashing down at her simultaneously, Shiraishi E swayed slightly like a ghost, easily dodging the attacks by the narrowest of margins.

Immediately afterwards, he slashed to the side with lightning speed, delivering a heavy knee strike to the abdomen of one of the attackers. Taking advantage of the moment when the attacker bent over in pain, he easily snatched the razor from the attacker's hand.

With the weapon in hand, Shiraishi E's demeanor changed abruptly!
He seemed to instantly activate some kind of "killing god mode," dodging and weaving through the crowd with movements as fluid as dance, yet containing deadly efficiency.

He nimbly dodged every swing, and the razor in his hand transformed into the scythe of death, each swing precise and accurate—either slicing across the opponent's neck or severing the major arteries in their arms or legs!
In an instant, blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the damp stone pavement red.

Those members of the Razor Gang whose vital organs had been slashed did not even have time to fully utter a scream before they clutched their wounds in agony, staggered to the ground, convulsed a few times, and soon stopped moving due to excessive blood loss, eventually turning into white light.

Conan stared in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape, his worldview once again shattered by Shiraishi E's inhuman fighting prowess!

If I had known this guy was this strong even with his bare hands, I could have saved those two precious bullets!

While he was internally ranting and raving, Shiraishi E had already cleaned up the remaining members of the Razor Clan as easily as cutting melons and vegetables, deliberately leaving only one person alive.

Shiraishi Ei stomped on the wrist of the survivor as he reached for another concealed weapon, the force so great that a groan of bone could be heard. At the same time, she pressed the blood-stained blade of her razor tightly against the man's throat and coldly demanded, "Speak! Who sent you? Why did you attack us?"

However, even after being subdued, the Razor Shield member remained expressionless, his eyes vacant and numb, as if he were completely devoid of fear, pain, or other human emotions.

He didn't respond to Shiraishi E's questioning at all, and even tried to struggle to complete the attack command.

Seeing this, the last trace of questioning in Shiraishi E's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold decisiveness.

Without another word, he flicked his wrist, and the sharp razor slit his opponent's throat. The battle was over.

Conan couldn't help but clap his hands, exclaiming sincerely, "Amazing, Shiraishi! One person, one knife, and he took down so many elite henchmen of the Razor Gang so cleanly and efficiently!"

Shiraishi E smiled nonchalantly, as if she had just done a warm-up exercise.

He skillfully wiped the fingerprints and bloodstains off the razor with a strip of cloth torn from the corpse, then casually threw the murder weapon into the nearby ditch.

"It's just a game, nothing serious, don't worry about it." He brushed it off lightly, then his expression hardened slightly as he changed the subject, "However, these people are acting strangely... Have you noticed?"

“From beginning to end, their expressions were as numb as the dead, their eyes were empty, as if all their emotions had been stripped away, leaving only the instinct to carry out orders.”

Upon hearing this, Conan also put away his admiring expression and nodded seriously: "Yes, I noticed that too. They don't seem like 'people' with self-awareness. They have no fear, no hesitation, and they don't even show any emotional fluctuations when they are injured or die. They are more like puppets that are precisely controlled by some kind of program."

He paused, then pointed to his eyes: "...It seems that this unusual difficulty and encounter is probably the work of this devil."

Shiraishi E nodded slightly: "Just as I guessed..."

Before he could finish speaking, the two noticed that the corpses of the Peelers members around them, along with the blood all over the ground, began to rapidly turn transparent, and then disappeared without a trace, as if erased by an eraser.

In the blink of an eye, the street returned to its previous "cleanliness," as if the fierce battle had never happened.

Shiraishi E couldn't help but laugh, teasing, "Is it trying to hastily destroy the crime scene and erase evidence of its interference in the game?"

Conan chuckled and chimed in, "Looks like it's true... These days, even AI can destroy evidence."

Shiraishi E shrugged: "It learns and imitates data and behavioral patterns input by humans. How could it not do what humans can do?"

As he spoke, he looked up at the street ahead, where the fog had become unusually thick, almost solidifying into a grayish-white wall, as if deliberately guiding something.

"Look, the fog ahead is getting thicker. It seems to have shown us the way, and we can move on to the next scene."

Conan nodded, exchanged a glance with Shiraishi E, and the two tacitly stepped forward together, heading straight towards the thick, impenetrable fog.

After their figures completely disappeared into the dense fog with visibility of less than a meter, the surrounding space seemed to undergo some kind of strange distortion.

Just a few steps later, the scenery suddenly opened up, and the thick fog dissipated like a stage curtain.

A relatively clean and respectable street full of Victorian charm came into view, and right in front of them stood the famous building—221B Baker Street.

That familiar door seemed to be quietly waiting for their arrival.

(End of this chapter)