Chapter 1053: Intelligent Machine Crisis (13)

Due to some reasons, a large number of users suddenly cannot open the web page to visit this site today. Please keep in mind the domain name of this site EbookFREE.me (the first letter of literature + org dot com, EbookFREE.me) to find the way home!
AD.2154.8.20
Detroit second district.
"I don't think it's right..."
"Oh, don't worry, my sweetheart, the old man is only my son. If I go to ask for money, he will have to give it. Otherwise, would I donate it to the charity department?"
"Your father will be angry."
"How about being angry, can he break off with me? I like you, and he must like you."
In the corner of the restaurant, the man who was previously noticed by Anderson was speaking sweet words to the T800 bionic man Nuos in front of him.
"Huh, this unfilial son," Anderson whispered while eavesdropping: "Although I wanted to be angry, I was a little bit gloated when I thought of an abnormal bionic man sitting opposite him who was planning to cheat him."
"Hmm..." Kanna responded casually while eating.
Before, because the two mission goals were put together, after discussing with Anderson and Connor, they dropped the police car to follow them on foot, and in order to avoid unforeseen circumstances, Connor found an OK bandage on the indicator light on the forehead, making her heroic. The cool temperament adds a wild flavor.
"However, as a bionic person, the "Nuosi" can have a normal account and make a fraudulent act by pretending to be a real person. It must not be out of her own ideas. There must be an organization behind her. It may be what we are looking for. Goal." Anderson continued to analyze.
["I don't think we can let Mr. Leo Manfield find his father for this." (model)]
["So, Deputy Captain Anderson, how did you recognize her as a dancer?" (Rebellion)]
["We will follow North after they are separated."]
["Order two more steaks." (Gourmet)]
"Nuo Si’s words, as long as she called the monitor, she would know where she was. She would not hide her whereabouts without knowing that she was being tracked, but Mr. Carl Manfield was originally on our visiting list, It can be seen that there should be a bionic person in his family who may have abnormalities," Connor put down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin: "We should follow Leo Manfield to visit his father for this reason and confirm the bionic person. After the message, he asked him how he met North."
"The idea is good and there are no violations," Anderson nodded approvingly. "Maybe you will become a good police officer in the future."
"No, sir, if we visit formally, the bionic might not be abnormal," Connor pointed to Rio who was still talking sweetly to Noth over there: "You also said, Carl Manfield, the famous painter, has almost no bad comments, so the abnormality of the bionic man is mostly because this guy repeatedly went unreasonably.
"What do you mean?" Anderson's eyelids jumped.
"I guess, sir, when you searched the dens of the red ice hawkers, did you do a lot of "dive in" work?" Kang Na blinked at him.

Karl Manfield House in the second district of Detroit.
[Confirmation information: Karl Manfield, 68 years old, a famous painter, most of the content of his works are "fantasy things like real existence", so he was named "realistic fantasy school". Not popular, but in recent years, because of the fact that several sceneries and creatures found on the alien planets are basically consistent with the depictions of their past paintings, they have begun to be sought after by the public. Star Alliance has formulated recruitment and research plans, but because he is too old Weakened and failed to implement. 】
[Confirmation information, the T850-type domestic bionics were named Markus by Karl Manfield. The report shows that he has been in an'overload' state 46 times in the past year. 】
"So, what is he painting?"
"If it wasn't for Avatar, should it be an alien encountered by the future Star Alliance?"
At this time, Anderson and Connor had already rushed into Leo's mansion, which had only one bionic man, before Leo. He was hiding in his giant studio while contemplating his unfinished giant portrait.
The painting depicts a blue-skinned, seemingly hairless woman standing in a temple-like building and praying.
"What do you think? Marcus?" The white-haired, wrinkled and thin Karl Manfield was sitting in a wheelchair and was directing the two robotic arms to the huge wall-mounted pair with the drawing board in his hand. Scribbled portraits-The noise from the robotic arm is also the reason why Connor and Anderson dare to chat in a low voice.
"Well... I think it's... wonderful." The bionic man named Marcus has very short hair, wheat-colored skin, and a sturdy body. The overall temperament looks like... a large, moderate dog?
"Hahaha... Anyone who can't understand my paintings says so," Karl added two more strokes, lowered the drawing board and turned the wheelchair toward Marcus: "It's your turn next."
"No, I don't have talents in this area, Carl." Marcus refused.
"Well, since you last drew a ‘painting' like a photo, I knew it," the old man did not intend to give up: "So, today you are not allowed to paint anything you have ever seen."
"This..." Marcus was at a loss.
"Take up the paintbrush, Marcus." Carl gestured to the table with a variety of paintings on the side.
Marcus picked up the brush according to the words, but was still at a loss as to the blank canvas.
"A long time ago, there was a view that with the camera, there was no need for realist painting, and I proved that they were wrong," the old man said in a gentle voice: "Painting is not to copy reality, but to add your own Awareness, filling and addition, through what the audience is familiar with, expressing the thoughts that they want to convey to the audience, which cannot be achieved by photos."
"Karl, I..."
"Close your eyes, don't look for pictures in your memory," Carl continued. "Choose a word that doesn't point to an entity, and then describe the gesture it shows in your heart, go."
Marcus finally closed his eyes. The halo of his forehead gradually turned yellow and began to flicker. The arm holding the brush slowly lifted up. His movements were still stiff at first, but soon became smooth and skillful. , Or even give people a feeling of writing hard.
"Oh, uh." Carl tilted his head quietly to watch, occasionally exclaiming.
"This..." When Marcus finally stopped the painting and opened his eyes, he was also surprised by his own work.
"The painting is good, Marcus, but what words do you want?" the painter asked.
The final thing on the canvas is a beautiful castle with main body and decoration made entirely of ice and snow, and a golden crown, wearing an ice crystal long dress, wearing a fluffy blonde hair, dozing off the throne with closed eyes, a little bit The lovely girl with the upper body breath, one side of the throne is leaning on a big sword with wonderful runes, and the other side is a ridiculous little snowman who is dancing.
"Sorry, Carl, what I think is [death]."
Please like to collect the end of the collection, please collect: (EbookFREE.me) The fastest update of the literature in the collection of the end of the pen.