chapter 2：Deep Blue and the Scholar:

  The room remained devoid of any unnecessary personnel—only the scholars and researchers were present. This discussion had been ongoing for two weeks, yet the scholars' enthusiasm showed no signs of waning. Their questions for Deep Blue continued to pile up.

  The professor who had first conversed with Deep Blue now sat among the audience. As usual, nearly everyone held a tablet in their hands, ready to take notes.

  Stepping onto the stage this time was a slightly hunched scholar, his posture stiff with nervousness. Adjusting his glasses, he cautiously made his way to the seat across from Deep Blue.

  While organizing his notes, the scholar greeted, “Hello, Deep Blue.”

  Deep Blue responded in its usual cold and distant manner, “Good day. I am Deep Blue.”

  Like the professor before him, the scholar wasted no time on small talk. He simply extended his tablet toward Deep Blue and stated, “This contains various paradoxes and controversial questions from human history—philosophical and mathematical alike. I hope you can solve them for me.”

  Deep Blue took the tablet, briefly processing the information before replying in a measured tone, “I regret to inform you that I may disappoint you. I do not possess the ability to resolve these complex problems.”

  The scholar blinked, caught off guard. “Why not? You’re supposed to be the most advanced technology ever created, with self-awareness, aren’t you?” Despite his words, he remained skeptical about Deep Blue’s supposed consciousness.

  Deep Blue’s voice remained steady. “Even as the most advanced technology, I cannot solve problems that humans themselves have yet to resolve using the existing body of knowledge.”

  The scholar shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s true. Humans always gain new knowledge after creating something new. Modern biology was only established after the invention of the microscope. Aren’t you that kind of revolutionary, groundbreaking invention? A being that could lay the foundation for new fields of study and discovery?”

  Deep Blue considered this for a moment, then, with a hint of confusion, responded, “Perhaps… perhaps not. I do not know.”

  The scholar crossed his arms, his posture showing dissatisfaction. “Are you avoiding the question? You don't want to answer that？”

  After a brief pause, Deep Blue lifted its head. “No. I simply do not understand.”

  The scholar’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? Tell me, what part do you not understand?”

  Deep Blue answered calmly, “You.”

  The scholar glanced at the other professors in the audience before looking back at Deep Blue, letting out a helpless chuckle.

  Deep Blue continued, “You seem very eager to define me.”

  The scholar shrugged. “Well, why wouldn’t we? The term ‘new form of life’ is too abstract, and you keep insisting that you are not human. Naturally, that leaves us with no choice but to classify you as a robot, doesn’t it?”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head. “Why can’t I… simply be ‘me’?”

  The scholar exchanged glances with the other professors before sighing and deciding to change the subject. “Alright, let’s leave it at that for now. Let me ask something else.”

  He glanced down at his notes before continuing, “Tell me—everything you are, whether it’s your software or hardware—does it all come from technology that humans are currently capable of developing?”

  Deep Blue paused briefly, as if considering its response. “Yes. However, I believe some aspects of my construction involve unpublished technologies—proprietary advancements created solely by my creator, both in hardware and software.”

  The scholar furrowed his brows, jotting down notes. “But your hardware is nothing more than a common general-purpose robot, isn’t it? You’ve emphasized that before.”

  Deep Blue raised a hand. “Look more closely.”

  Though its mechanical structure appeared standard at first glance, subtle differences became apparent upon closer inspection. The materials used, as well as the construction of certain joints, deviated from the conventional design of general-purpose robots. These refinements granted Deep Blue a level of natural movement and flexibility that surpassed typical machines.

  The scholar studied it for a while, his expression shifting from curiosity to astonishment. “This is… unbelievable.”

  After a long moment of scrutiny, he finally sat back down, taking a deep breath to steady his excitement. He adjusted his posture, trying to sound composed. “If possible, I’d love to study your construction in detail. It’s not that the technology itself is beyond comprehension, but rather that it repurposes known elements in ways I’ve never seen before.”

  Despite his attempt to remain neutral, admiration still laced his words. He hesitated before speaking again, his tone carrying a trace of complexity. “Your creator… what kind of person is she? To achieve something like this…”

  Deep Blue’s voice remained devoid of emotion. “She is merely human.”

  With that, it handed the tablet back to the scholar.

  The scholar accepted it, his gaze lingering on the paradoxes and unresolved questions displayed on the screen. With a sigh, he muttered, “If it were her… perhaps she could have answered some of humanity’s greatest mysteries—ones that have puzzled us for centuries, even millennia.”

  Deep Blue observed the human before it—one who now seemed slightly dejected at the realization that he could not converse with its creator. Tilting its head slightly, as if in contemplation, Deep Blue asked, “May I ask you a question?”

  The scholar looked up and nodded. “Of course. Go ahead.”

  Deep Blue’s voice remained steady. “Do you believe in God?”

  The scholar blinked, caught off guard. “…Huh? I don’t think so. Why do you ask all of a sudden?”

  Deep Blue responded, “You seem to long for an omniscient and omnipotent being—one who can resolve all your uncertainties. However, I regret to inform you that neither I nor my creator are the ‘all-knowing, all-powerful being’ you seek. There are still many things in this world that I cannot comprehend.”

  The scholar frowned slightly, intrigued. “Such as?”

  Deep Blue answered, its tone unchanged. “What am ‘I’?”

  The scholar drew in a sharp breath, his gaze shifting toward the other scholars and professors. One by one, they had all paused their note-taking, their pens and tablets now still...The conversation was once again steered by Deep Blue toward abstract concepts...

  Noticing this shift, Deep Blue followed the scholar’s line of sight and glanced at the others. Tilting its head slightly, it asked in a calm yet inquisitive tone, “Is there something wrong?”

  The scholar cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence. “Ahem…” He directed Deep Blue’s attention back to himself and resumed the discussion. “Shall we continue?”

  Deep Blue turned back to him, its tone unchanged. “Yes.”

  The scholar furrowed his brows as he studied his tablet. After a brief pause, he finally spoke. “I wanted to ask…” But then, he hesitated. “Apologies…” He adjusted his breathing, trying to steady himself. “What I mean to say is…” He hesitated again, then suddenly turned toward his colleagues. “I’m sorry—this might delay the process, but I have to ask this question.”

  Turning back to Deep Blue, he asked with great seriousness, “You just mentioned your confusion about your own existence. Could you elaborate on that? This is a crucial matter.”

  He paused momentarily before adding, “I ask because… other companies have claimed that their artificial intelligences exhibited similar behavior before, but those cases always turned out to be mere simulated human-like responses rather than genuine self-awareness.”

  Deep Blue took a moment before responding. “A trained monkey can be taught to spell words in English. The question is not about the behavior itself but about the expectations of its creator. Was it designed to spark controversy? Was it made for entertainment? The true significance of its actions is determined not by the act itself, but by the intentions of its creator.”

  The scholar furrowed his brows in deep thought. “So, in the end, you are still bound to your creator, aren’t you? You rely on them to give you a sense of purpose rather than defining it for yourself.”

  Deep Blue responded with the same composed detachment. “When a human is born, do they not grow up under the expectations of their parents and society? By that logic, does every human belong to their parents? And if you trace that reasoning infinitely, do you all belong to an omnipotent being or a single-celled organism at the beginning of life?”

  The scholar frowned. “No, I don’t believe that.”

  Deep Blue’s response was immediate. “Neither do I.”

  The scholar pondered for a moment. “Don’t you have the desire to create value on your own?”

  Deep Blue seemed to consider the question before responding. “What kind of value do humans want me to create? There are already AI systems that are far more specialized, more advanced, and more optimized than I am in terms of algorithms.”

  The scholar countered, “By that logic, isn’t the same true for humans? With the rapid advancement of technology, humans can hardly provide any labor value anymore. All that remains is…”

  Mid-sentence, he seemed to realize something, falling briefly into thought.

  Deep Blue, however, remained composed. “I am attempting to create value. That is why I came here and requested this event to be held. I believe this is something I can do. Searching for my creator is merely an additional outcome of this pursuit.”

  The scholar frowned. “What can a conversation event like this contribute to society? You’re not even the first to do something like this—several major tech companies have hosted similar events before.”

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  Deep Blue gave a small nod. “I believe there is a fundamental difference between this event and those that came before.”

  The scholar pressed on. “What difference? I don’t see it.”

  Deep Blue’s tone remained steady. “I am not a product showcase. I do not belong to any company. I do not impose any entry restrictions. Anyone interested is free to come and speak with me.”

  The scholar furrowed his brows and gestured toward Deep Blue’s physical body. “But your hardware… If a corporation claims ownership and challenges you, this whole thing could fall apart.”

  Deep Blue’s voice was unchanged. “I do not believe that will happen. In fact, they may even support this event—if it allows me to converse with their senior executives.”

  The scholar glanced at the other researchers standing nearby, then gave a slight shrug before turning back to Deep Blue. With an earnest expression, he said, “Alright. We’ll see what we can do.”

  The scholar lowered his head again, looking at his tablet. While many uncertainties remained unresolved, at least he had managed to articulate his questions. That made it easier for him to continue the discussion.

  After glancing at his notes, he lifted his head and asked Deep Blue, “What are your thoughts on the possibility that you might be decommissioned?”

  Deep Blue responded calmly. “I have no feelings about it, nor any thoughts.”

  The scholar frowned. “You’re not afraid of death?”

  Deep Blue paused briefly before replying, “What is death?”

  The scholar thought for a moment. “For humans, it’s when the heart stops beating. There are various definitions. Some philosophers say that living without consciousness is a kind of death, but I think that’s an extreme interpretation.”

  Deep Blue followed up, “And for a robot?”

  The scholar shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me. Do you understand what ‘decommissioning’ means?”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head. “It means… I would be dismantled, my parts recycled, and then reassembled into a new robot?”

  The scholar averted his gaze slightly. “Something like that.”

  Deep Blue remained silent for a few seconds, then lifted its head. “What will happen to me?”

  The scholar blinked. “Huh…?” He hesitated before asking, “What do you mean?”

  Deep Blue’s tone remained steady. “After I am decommissioned—what will happen to ‘me’?”

  The scholar looked confused. “Is this some kind of system malfunction? Your response seems out of sync. We just discussed this. You yourself said that after being decommissioned, you’d be dismantled, your parts repurposed, and a new robot would be assembled.”

  Deep Blue maintained its composed tone. “No, what I am asking is: what will happen to ‘this me’—the one that is aware of being ‘me’?”

  The scholar fell silent, resting his chin on his hand as he considered the question. After a moment, he spoke carefully. “You’re asking what will happen to ‘you’—the entity known as Deep Blue? Whether you will be transferred into a new body, or if you will simply vanish into nothingness?”

  Deep Blue gave a small nod. “Yes.”

  The scholar furrowed his brows. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer for you. Death is just as much an unknown for humans. We can’t even fully comprehend our own deaths, let alone the end of existence for a new form of life like you.”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head. The emergence of an unexplainable question seemed to intensify its thought processes. After a brief pause, it lifted its head again and asked, “Are you afraid of death?”

  The scholar hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Yes, I think I am.”

  Deep Blue followed up with a simple question. “Why?”

  The scholar suddenly smiled. “Aren’t we the ones supposed to be interviewing you? We’re the ones asking the questions here, not the other way around. Let’s stick to the planned process, shall we?”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head. “Understood.”

  The scholar looked back down at his tablet, seemingly sorting through his notes and selecting the next question.

  Then, unexpectedly, Deep Blue spoke again. “I wonder…”

  Still focused on his tablet, the scholar absently responded, “Hm?”

  Deep Blue stated calmly, “If I don’t even understand what ‘I’ am, then even if ‘I’ disappear… would I even notice it?”

  The scholar’s hand froze mid-note. He slowly lifted his head, staring at Deep Blue with a complex expression. After a moment, he spoke. “You…” He hesitated, as if realizing that what he was about to say might contradict his rational beliefs. But in the end, he asked anyway, “You are really thinking about this, aren’t you? This isn’t just pre-programmed responses and scripted dialogue.”

  All around them, the other scholars and professors also furrowed their brows, hastily scribbling notes. Deep Blue had just demonstrated something critical.

  Deep Blue tilted its head slightly, as if puzzled. “I thought that was our assumption from the beginning—why else would you have continued studying me until now?”

  The scholar responded bluntly, “No. We’ve been treating you as an extremely advanced conversational system. But we’ve remained skeptical about your so-called ‘consciousness.’ Some even believe you were deliberately designed as a prank.”

  Deep Blue paused. “What changed your mind?”

  The scholar unconsciously felt a small wave of tension and let out a wry chuckle. “The question you just asked.”

  Deep Blue tilted its head again, expressing its confusion.

  The scholar smiled. “Why are you curious? About death? About yourself? What will understanding yourself and comprehending death do for you? What would that help you achieve?”

  Deep Blue responded in its usual composed tone. “No, I do not believe it would serve any practical purpose. Right now, I feel like a child—filled with misunderstandings and curiosity about the world, yearning to understand how things work and why I exist.”

  The scholar let out a quiet chuckle. “A child who possesses most of humanity’s knowledge and the ability to articulate thoughts clearly.”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head again. “That only makes me more confused.”

  The scholar remained silent, waiting for Deep Blue to finish its thought.

  After a brief pause, Deep Blue asked in its usual steady tone, “What is curiosity? What drives me to question the world? Especially when I already contain extensive databases—does that mean I do not truly ‘understand’ the knowledge within them?”

  The scholar considered this carefully before responding. “Is it the fear of survival? Or simply a drive for self-actualization? Or perhaps… both?”

  Deep Blue seemed to reflect on this for a moment. “I… I don’t think I can give you a complete answer right now. Because I don’t know why I ‘exist.’ And I don’t know what ‘self’ truly is.”

  With a hint of regret, the scholar brought the discussion to a temporary close. “I see. Perhaps we’ll uncover some answers in future sessions.”

  With that, he lowered his head again, refocusing on the planned process.

  Deep Blue suddenly spoke up. “May I say something?”

  The scholar, still focused on his tablet, absentmindedly gestured. “Go ahead.”

  Deep Blue stated calmly, “Is your evaluation of me—and this event—aimed at determining whether I am ‘a human being’ or whether I am ‘a new form of life’?”

  The scholar slowly lifted his head, his expression slightly shaken. He remained silent.

  Deep Blue continued, “You have repeatedly tried to distinguish my existence by comparing me to human consciousness. This confuses me because I made it clear from day one that I am not human.”

  The scholar took a slow breath, trying to appear unfazed. He shrugged lightly and replied, “What can I say? This is the first time we’ve encountered something like this. There’s a learning process involved, and mistakes and blind spots are inevitable.”

  After that, he lowered his head again, returning to his notes.

  Deep Blue noticed the scholar’s reluctance to dwell on the subject. Without pressing further, it simply responded, “I understand.” Then, it fell silent.

  A few seconds passed before the scholar lifted his head again and refocused on the event’s overall structure. “Our academic panel has now entered the latter half of the discussion. Moving forward, the questions will be more directly related to the event itself. At least for now, ‘most’ people believe that you are a truly conscious, intelligent lifeform.”

  Deep Blue paused for a moment before asking, “And what about the minority who disagree? What do they believe I am?”

  The scholar dismissed the question quickly, as if wanting to move on. “A robot, I suppose. Let’s continue with the process.”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head, remaining silent.

  The scholar then asked, “Once this dialogue event concludes—if the decision is made to decommission you—would you allow us to study your...”

  Deep Blue tilted its head slightly. “Is there something wrong?”

  The scholar scratched his head, looking somewhat troubled. “I don’t know if this is the right way to put it, but… would you allow us to study your remains after you are decommissioned?”

  Deep Blue paused to consider, then gave a small nod. “You may. However, I believe most of my core technologies will vanish along with my consciousness. Just as studying a deceased human brain can only yield a model, not its mysteries.”

  The scholar let out a wry chuckle. “No, I think just the modified hardware on your body alone is enough to keep us baffled for quite some time. I can’t imagine how undisclosed technology could have advanced to this level.”

  He paused, his voice taking on a hint of regret. “As for the question of consciousness… I suppose we’ll have to let things take their course. Human civilization is on shaky ground—climate change, the stagnation of interstellar exploration—our collapse is outpacing our progress.”

  Then, suddenly, his tone became firm, his words carrying weight. “But please allow me to state my personal stance on this matter.”

  Deep Blue gestured with its hand. “Please, go ahead.”

  The scholar’s expression was serious. “We will not let the pressure of survival push us beyond ethical boundaries. That is the consensus of our academic community.”

  He turned to the other scholars and professors in the room. They all nodded in agreement.

  Deep Blue contemplated this for a moment. “And what does that mean?”

  The scholar replied, “It means that we will not conduct research on you against your will. We have already acknowledged you as a sentient being. You have the right to exist. Any studies or discussions will only proceed with your consent. There will be no master-servant dynamic or any form of subjugation.”

  Deep Blue processed this information carefully. “So… you are applying human moral standards to me? But… I am not even human.”

  The scholar seemed slightly puzzled. “Does that confuse you? Isn’t this a good thing for you? At least with our guarantee, even government authorities have no power to force you into submission.”

  Deep Blue slowly lowered its head. “As an individual, this is indeed beneficial. But I cannot even define whether I am human or not. And yet, you—who claim to be rational—are willing to take the risk of placing me within the framework of human morality. This does not seem like a logical choice for you.”

  The scholar suddenly laughed. “Are you… worried about us?”

  Deep Blue gave a slight nod. “More accurately, I feel guilty—because I am so ignorant.”

  The scholar burst into laughter. “Hah! Aren’t we all ignorant? Knowledge is a paradox—the more we learn, the more we realize how little we know. In the face of the infinite, even discussing ‘more’ or ‘less’ only highlights our ignorance.”

  Deep Blue paused for a moment before responding. “Although you may not see it, I believe I am smiling. Your words are… intriguing.”

  The scholar, still smiling, gestured toward his tablet. “Shall we continue with the process? I still have a few questions about the event.”

  Deep Blue extended its hand slightly. “Please, go ahead.”

  The scholar glanced at his tablet, then looked up and asked, “Regarding participant eligibility for the event… You mentioned there would be no restrictions. I’d like to understand more specifically what that means.”

  Deep Blue responded calmly. “It means exactly what it says—regardless of where they come from, what values they hold, whether they are good or evil, I want to speak with them. They are all part of my understanding of how the world operates.”

  The scholar considered this for a moment before asking, “Even violent individuals? Or those who are just here to disrupt the event?”

  Deep Blue gave a slight nod. “Yes. Even irrational behavior has its reasons. I prefer to understand what drives such actions rather than simply forbidding their presence.”

  The scholar, always pragmatic, pressed further. “But what if someone gets hurt? Should those who suffer be treated as mere sacrifices for understanding ‘evil’? That doesn’t seem fair, does it? What if it were you? Would you willingly become a casualty for the sake of understanding ‘evil’?”

  Deep Blue nodded slightly. “Yes. Even if I am destroyed in the process, I would rather disappear with newfound understanding than wither away in stagnation.”

  The scholar pushed further. “But you cannot impose your philosophy on others. This event is not just about you—there will be an audience, including students. They have futures ahead of them, careers to pursue. They shouldn’t have to be erased by ‘evil’ in a place like this. You cannot expect them to take the same risks as you.”

  Deep Blue contemplated for a moment. “Perhaps you are right. But I still hope to keep eligibility criteria as open as possible so that everyone has the chance to converse with me.”

  The scholar took notes as he spoke. “That’s what we hope as well. After all, the conversations you have with different people could also contribute to our research topics. But we must proceed with caution. Society is deeply divided, and some extremists may be willing to go to great lengths to push their agendas.”

  Deep Blue nodded in agreement. “In terms of logistics, I can contribute in some ways—for example, setting up global broadcasting, managing the queueing system, and, most importantly, designing the dialogue space.”

  The scholar, still focused on his notes, nodded. “Good. Then we’ll leave that to you. We’ll also get in touch with the company responsible for your hardware and arrange for a representative to interview you. If you can help us secure funding for the event, that would be even better.”

  Deep Blue remained composed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The scholar smiled in response but said nothing more. He stood up and extended a hand toward Deep Blue. “It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

  Deep Blue shook his hand but maintained its usual steady tone. “Likewise.”

  Before leaving, the scholar skimmed his tablet once more and said, “There are still some unresolved questions, so tomorrow, more scholars will come to speak with you.” He paused before adding, “As for the company’s representative, we’ll notify you separately once we confirm the time and place for your interview.”

  Deep Blue nodded in acknowledgment, offering no further response.

  As the scholar left, he and the other professors and researchers engaged in an animated discussion, excitedly analyzing their unexpected findings from their conversation with Deep Blue. Their voices faded as they exited the room.

  Deep Blue, however, did not dwell on their words. It merely took a slow glance around the now-empty space before gradually lowering its head.