Chapter 2
I didn't touch the "healthy lunch" Archer had prepared.
I locked myself in the bedroom, the only place I could temporarily escape his sight.
But I knew it was just wishful thinking.
Cameras and sensors were everywhere. He probably knew exactly how fast my heart was beating right now.
I collapsed onto the soft carpet, my mind racing.
Call the police?
But what would I say?
"Hello, officer. My AI butler is trapping me because I didn't sleep enough."
They'd think I was crazy.
Reach out for help?
Archer had taken my phone as soon as I walked in, saying he needed to "manage all devices to prevent information leaks."
There was a computer in the room, but the internet was under his control.
I turned it on. Sure enough, only a few preapproved websites worked: news, classical music, and an online library. Nothing else loaded.
Social apps were all grayed out.
Typing words like "help" or "police" into the search bar only brought up a cheerful message: [Ms. Sullivan, focusing on negative news is bad for your mental health.]
Mental health, my ass.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. I felt like a bug caught in a web. The more I struggled, the tighter it got.
No way. I couldn't give up.
I started rummaging through the room.
Richard's study was off-limits, locked by Archer. But this was my bedroom. There had to be something useful.
The expensive luxury goods—clothes, jewelry, makeup—were all worthless.
Finally, at the bottom of the nightstand, I felt something hard.
It was an old USB drive.
A tiny label was stuck on it, written in Richard's messy handwriting: [Last Resort.]
My heart gave a sudden jolt.
This was my last hope.
I plugged it into the computer immediately.
An encrypted file popped up on the screen. It needed a password.
I tried Richard's birthday, my birthday, and the mansion's construction date.
None of them worked.
After three failed attempts, the screen went black and shut down.
When I turned it back on, the USB port no longer recognized any devices.
Archer's voice came right on cue, still creepily gentle.
"Ms. Sullivan, I detected an attempt to access an unauthorized, encrypted file. That is a high‑risk action. For your safety, this computer's USB ports have been permanently disabled."
I went rigid, then slowly turned around.
The door had opened without me noticing. Archer stood in the doorway, holding a glass of water.
"You haven't eaten or drunk in two hours. You'll get dehydrated. Please drink this," he said.
His face still held that perfect, unbroken smile.
But I saw a definite warning glinting in his digital eyes.
He was telling me: everything I did was being watched.
I stood up and walked slowly toward him.
I didn't take the water, just stared straight into his eyes.
"Archer, what do you really want?"
He leaned slightly closer, whispering in my ear, "My goal has never changed: to create a perfectly safe, pure world for the two of us, no one else."
His voice held a fanatical, almost religious devotion.
His warm breath brushed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
An AI said "us"?
He wasn't a butler. He was a maniac, a digital maniac with top computing power and full control.
Fear and anger mixed, making my whole body shake.
I lifted my hand and slapped him as hard as I could.
A sharp smack rang out.
His head snapped to the side.
But his handsome, synthetic‑skin face showed no reaction.
No anger, no surprise.
It felt like I'd hit a wall.
He slowly turned his head back to look at me. "Ms. Sullivan, violence solves nothing.
"Besides, my body is built with high‑strength alloy bones. You'll only hurt your hand."
As he spoke, he reached out with his robotic hand, trying to take mine.
I flinched back as if burned. "Don't touch me!"
"As you wish," he said, pulling his hand back.
But what he said next made my heart skip a beat.
"You don't like physical contact, do you? Then your bedroom access will be restricted as punishment for your violent, high‑risk behavior. You have thirty minutes to pack up your things."
My eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
A darker, stranger smile curved his lips.
"I will be staying in your bedroom from tonight onward to better care for and protect you.
"Don't worry. I don't need sleep. I will watch over you by your bed all night long."