4. Assembly (Software Edition) (2)
"That's impossible."
The reply was instantaneous.
Even without running audio analysis, he could intuitively tell it wasn't a lie.
As a basic design, humanoids are incapable of lying.
Whether this is a hardware-level constraint or forced by software is unclear, but it is an absolute rule.
Of course, there is a hole in this logic. If she were truly human, since humans can lie without compunction, it should be possible for her to lie and say "I am not human."
But Ray shook his virtual head.
Yuki is a humanoid.
There was no basis for it, but he felt a kind of resonance as a fellow member of the same species.
"I'm not a human, though," Yuki continued.
"Since I was with my Owner for a long time, maybe I've been dyed a little by the primitive way humans are."
As she said this, she put strength into the hands supporting Ray.
Perhaps due to the lingering effects of the kiss earlier, Ray's sensory sensors were completely restored. He could vividly perceive not only the strength of her grip but even the minute vibrations transmitting from her fingertips, including expanded domains like a sixth or seventh sense.
"That's why you'll die if things stay as they are. You have to interrupt your system with the will to live."
"Even if you say that," Ray replied, troubled.
"I don't have the motivation to do so. Unless a command from a human, meaning a direct prompt to 'Live,' is input, this process cannot be changed."
"Then, live."
Yuki said it aggressively. Ray could only smile wryly.
"Yuki, you aren't human, are you? You don't have the authority."
"..."
Silence.
It seemed she truly wasn't human, as she appeared unable to lie to fake administrator privileges.
She bit her lip in frustration. Her expression seemed to say how incredibly frustrating it was not to be human.
Like a child puffing up their cheeks to show a parent their displeasure when their selfish demands aren't met, her soft cheeks swelled.
Then, letting the air out from those cheeks with a *whoosh*, she declared as if using that momentum for propulsion.
"Then, I'll put in the prompt for you."
"...You will?"
Ray had unwittingly returned to his nihilistic tone from before the charge kiss.
In a flat tone, he outputted a cool calculation result.
"Even if a humanoid robot tells me to... Since you don't have admin rights, it won't be recognized as an execution command. I don't feel motivated, either."
"But the kiss earlier felt good, didn't it?"
A surprise counterpunch.
His logical gap exploited, Ray froze, unable to answer immediately. Not missing that slight opening, Yuki pressed on.
"So, live."
As if making a declaration, she told Ray as though writing new code into him.
"Live, for my sake."
To Ray, that sounded like a kind of divine mandate.
This vast Final Disposal Site where only trash and despair accumulated. Overhead, an ironically beautiful aurora shimmered, painting a strange contrast between misery and beauty.
Ray tried parallel processing, fitting that scenery and the girl-type humanoid shining vividly before him onto a single canvas.
Then, thinking he had nothing to lose—knowing it would be rejected 99% of the time—he tried inputting her "prompt" into his own system.
*(...?)*
Something unusual happened.
There was a response.
It wasn't completely executed (compiled). Error logs were also spat out. However, the system did not completely reject her words as an "invalid command."
A part of the source code was reacting slightly.
Ray's "curiosity" subroutine reacted violently to this inexplicable phenomenon. He wanted to pinpoint the cause of this irregular bug. His mechanical instinct told him so.
"Hey, could you say that one more time?"
Ray groped for a correction.
"No, not just a simple repeat; I want you to change your word choice a little. Just a little... Yes, if you apply just a bit of prompt engineering, it might go through. Your prompt."
"R-really?"
Yuki's expression brightened instantly. She herself probably hadn't thought it would actually work. Oxygen was supplied to the ember of hope that had been about to go out, and it flared up vigorously.
"Ray-kun, live!"
She shouted, raising the sound pressure (volume) compared to before.
But Ray tilted his head. The analysis result was mediocre.
"Ray-kun! Live!!"
Yuki inhaled to the full capacity of her lungs and shouted from the bottom of her stomach.
Her voice echoed "Woof woof" across the vast disposal site, reverberating off the mountains of iron.
However, Ray's reaction was lukewarm.
"It's not a problem of speaker volume. More, like..."
It was frustrating. It felt like he was about to reach an itch but couldn't quite scratch it.
Ray himself couldn't see the clear solution to what the system was demanding.
As Ray mumbled, Yuki, perhaps running out of patience, suddenly brought her face close. She was poised to execute a second kiss.
"No no no, not that!"
Ray hurriedly put a stop to it. If he received an excessive energy supply now, his head might explode from overcharging.
"A little more, you know..."
Ray searched desperately for words, like chasing an elusive butterfly.
"How about adding more reasons (parameters)? As it is now, it tastes too much like the raw ingredients. Of course, enjoying the natural taste of ingredients isn't bad, but I want you to add a little more sauce, season it a bit."
It was uncertain if it got through, but Yuki nodded slightly as if to say "I understand."
She steadied her breathing once and made an expression far more serious than before. Then, she spoke quietly, but with distinct weight.
"Ray. Live. For me."
The moment those words were input, a shudder ran through Ray's circuits.
It wasn't the physical voltage of the charge kiss earlier. However, a powerful signal that likely reached 80% of that intensity pierced his mental center. His blocked thought circuits were forcibly opened, and he felt a sensation as if the hair on his entire body (though it was only a head) stood on end.
This is it.
The "sauce" Ray had been seeking was exactly this.
Sensing the fulfillment filling him, Yuki added more words.
"I will become Ray-kun's Owner. Let's destroy the preconceived notion that humanoids are just things to be owned by humans together. From today on, I own you, Ray-kun."
Her voice gradually gathered heat and bounced.
"So, live for me. Operate only for me. Don't shut down on your own."
Then, she delivered the finishing blow.
"Don't give up on your own."
Those words were droplets of a lucid gem falling onto the withered leaf that was Ray's dried-up CPU.
A thought circuit of a defective product that had something missing from the manufacturing stage, that couldn't find meaning in fighting despite being built as a gladiator, and was just waiting for the time of disposal. Into that, a perfect correction patch, as if written by a white-clad angel full of affection, was now installed.
The code was instantly authenticated and permeated the entire system.
Ray sent a signal of ready consent without hesitation.
"Understood. From now on, I will live for Yuki."
Thus, for the first time since his production—and perhaps for the first time in the history of the solar system—Ray became a "humanoid robot owned by a humanoid robot."