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Chapter XIII

 Marcus Johnson was a man with a complex character and controversial opinions.

There were people who could spend days listing out all the positive things about him, and it was true that he did improve the lives of a lot of people — not just limited to those philanthropy funds with a multiple digit number that all celebrities nowadays would do. Johnson would expend great time and effort to cross the barriers of the more-than-ever polarized social hierarchy to truly listen to what the people needed, and he would find slots of free time to supervise the entire production and distribution process to fully ensure that the aids could actually reach the hands of those in need.

With all the lives he had saved, there were people who went as far as idolizing him, viewing him as an angel sent from heaven above, and if it was necessary, it could be certain that there were people who would fight for him. The same kindheartedness was also reflected from his treatment towards his friends, and it was definite that his close friends would trust him one hundred percent and even give up their lives for him.

On the other hand, some said that he was a hypocritical actor filled with greed and ambition. There were conspiracy theories accusing him of creating car accidents and burglaries to murder his business opponents and rivals, and when such ideas got published over the Internet, others all began their attempts of tying recent deaths with Johnson's recent business activities. It might be that Johnson established too much of an influence among the government organs, or it could be that these theories were false in the first place, but Johnson was never officially convicted of any crimes.

Right here, right now, in this auditorium of bloodbath, Johnson knew that people were seeing him as a monster.

This project originated with a good intention — to expand the boundaries of technology, to provide artificial intelligence with the power of creating art. Not only would humanity's creation be one more step towards perfection, but this could also bring humanity into computer programs, to allow both races to coexist. This whole project was an art in itself. The Sonata of Singularity was a perfect example of how machines could create beautiful things that humans would enjoy, but none of the people appreciated that when this exact same artwork was labeled as "made by AI".

Johnson knew that they were anxious because the ten percent of the workforce — the artists, the entertainers, the poets — they would be replaced by the newly enhanced AI. In a society like this, anyone without a job would be walking in an invisible, moving casket, and that was the daily life of the ninety percent of the population. However, Johnson believed that he could identify the roots of this crisis better than others. 

The people were suffering poverty, but the society was wealthier than ever. Given the highly productive nature of machines and AIs, there was so much more produced than actually needed. Economists' research had already demonstrated that there the food production was of 25 times the minimum requirement to feed the global population, and the GDP had been continuing to grow in increasing acceleration, but the empirical evidence on people's daily lives had proven to be of stark contrast, as hunger and lack of shelter became a more and more common thing. Consequently, crime rate increased, trust deteriorated, and a negative spiral began.

Before the AI revolution took place, the world played by the 80/20 rule, where 80% of the wealth was concentrated in the hands of 20% of the population. However, this had gradually polarized into a 90/10 ratio, and it was still radicalizing. The giant economic gap had been the cause of all the suffering in the lower section of the hierarchy, and the ones in charge had been hesitant to take action because the government and major corporations all belonged to the 10 percent. 

There was no way to revert this power flow anymore under the status quo, but that didn't mean there would be no hope. This new project that ArtTech worked on, the revolutionary enhancement that would replace the ten remaining percent of the workforce, would push the power concentration even further, up to 95/5, 97/3, and then eventually all the power would be compressed at the hands of a few corporations such as ArtTech and Hypersphere such that the external victims would be of enough size and pressure to crack down the ceilings of the hierarchy and compel the power holders to release their wealth and power to the ninety-nine percent of society. 

The reason for poverty was inequality, but when the power kept flowing upwards, the exploiters would become the exploited, and when everyone became impoverished, the inequality would cease to exist. The remaining one percent of the power holders would not have the capacity to hold on to such magnitude of wealth and power; consequently, money and food would be distributed equally to each individual, and property ownership would be readjusted to accommodate the majority.

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Moreover, the time of this power outflow would be happening at the exact same time of the Singularity, therefore people could immediately utilize their newly received resources to create literally infinite sets of possible renovations to life. All that could happen within a few years of endurance.

Resistance would be temporary, but the legacies would last for eternity. Of course there would be sufferings at first, but it was for the greater good.

Kill one to protect many. Sacrifice the smaller for the greater.

However, Johnson didn't expect the consequence to be so severe. Yes, he expected quarrels and protests, but he didn't expect murders and bloodbaths.

Johnson didn't panic at all. He knew that it wasn't the danger that would lead a soldier to death but panic and fear. They would make you illogical and stupid.

When the crowds began throwing insults at each other, he followed the trained procedure, saying comforting words to calm people down, and usually it would work on well educated people, but this time people's anger was too strong that the words seemed to only fuel the conflict.

When the old man got killed by the toolbox, Johnson still didn't panic. He knew that this would spark off a major conflict, but these people weren't his primary concern. There were four individuals in the crowd possessing unusual talents, and Johnson needed them to help achieving his grand social reordering. Intelligence had said that these people were undercover government spies, but Johnson didn't care. He needed to ensure these four individuals' safety.

At first he tried to call in the security guards inside the conference auditorium to directly rescue the four VIPs. Before he could speak into his Bracelet, however, all the security guards were overwhelmed by the charging crowd.

Then somebody pointed a plasma rifle towards Johnson. Instinctively he kicked his briefcase towards the direction and knocked the gun off the assailant's hand. No matter how well trained Johnson was, his mortal flesh was no match against plasma bullets. He ducked under the grand piano and used an emergency trapdoor to escape the auditorium.

As soon as he was out of the auditorium, his chief security manager asked him if the auditorium exit should be opened so that the innocent ones could escape.

Johnson directly refused. He was well aware of the potential consequences, and that was why he interfered all types of transmission signals the moment the argument broke out among parties. The media must not report this to the outside world. Likewise, nobody would be allowed to exit the room to spread the news outside.

If a group of highly educated people would transform to such savage and murderous beasts after hearing the news, then how would the rest of the world respond. The world would be purged in fear, rage, distrust, and brutality. ArtTech would crumble down, and without ArtTech, the society would never have any hope for reform. 

It was to kill one to save many, to sacrifice the smaller for the greater.

Then the chief security manager projected a holographic footage of the CCTV cameras inside the auditorium. The CEO of the Hypersphere executive board, Maxwell Rhodes, was speaking to the CCTV camera.

"I know you can hear this, Mr. Johnson, and my executive board and I are very well aware of why you would not open the door. However, I'd like you to consider the consequences if the world heard about the whole executive board of Hypersphere perished in an ArtTech conference. Think about how the world would respond."

Johnson knew that Rhodes was right. However, he had some other plans in mind.

"How many elite security personnels do we have left?"

"Five. Sir. More could be transported here but it would take approximately five minutes." The chief security manager saw what Johnson was planning to do. It was crazy, yes, but he would always be ready for it.

Twenty seconds later, the side door of the conference room slid open. The Hypersphere people were about to rush out when Johnson's men came in, "Before you leave. I would like you to cooperate with us in this rescue mission."

Maxwell Rhodes nodded at his security. The ArtTech elite personnels threw the Hypersphere guards a few devices that resembled a much bigger and wider version of the Bracelets. After putting them on and pressing a few buttons, the Hypersphere guards watched the devices emitting nanometer-sized threads that covered their bodies and interweaved into a much stronger and more resilient material.

The ArtTech and Hypersphere personnels looked at each other in the eyes with a sense of understanding. Then they formed into the deadly phalanx and battled their way towards the VIPs.

The four government spies were surrounded by a group of aggressive crowds. One man looked as if he was mentally unconscious and physically paralyzed. If Johnson remembered correctly, then that man was Michael Livingstone. Then not far away from him were a man and a woman with an expression of pure shock on their faces. Nicholas Descartes and Alexandra Gauss. Then Johnson traced their vision towards the man they were looking at — the man in the middle fighting all the charging crowds with the set of elegant and deadly combat moves that Johnson himself recognized with a dreading familiarity. It couldn't be... No, it wasn't him. The profile said this man was called Jay Wilde.

Johnson knew that there would be a load of things to explain to these four people, but he would do it the following days. After all, he needed them for the Singularity to take place.