Maruki had been right on the verge of countering her—really, he had.
Even if an AI could process information exponentially faster than a human mind, even if it could develop a framework of self-awareness, that didn’t change the fact that it was still a simulation. A construct, bound by its initial programming. Growth was one thing, but true selfhood? That required something more than just an optimized feedback loop. And besides, technology’s relationship with cognition had never been anything short of a double-edged sword.
But—
Well.
That thought process completely derailed the second Ichinose whipped out a nail file and popped open her phone like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Maruki went quiet.
Not the kind of quiet where he was carefully formulating a response, either. No, this was a rare and fleeting instance of actual speechlessness.
His eyes followed her hands, watching as she moved with the kind of practiced precision that suggested she’d done this plenty of times before. The flicker of metal, the twist of her fingers, the sharp little snap as the microphone came free from the board. And then, just like that, she rolled the window down and tossed it out onto the street.
The entire process took mere seconds.
He blinked, mouth parting slightly—less in protest and more in something that suspiciously resembled actual admiration.
"…That was," he started, only to pause, lips pressing together as he considered his phrasing.
Then, with a small huff that was almost a chuckle, he nodded to himself.
"That was very… decisive of you, Ichinose-san." His tone was light, carefully measured, but there was no mistaking the genuine approval beneath it. "A well-thought-out action executed with absolute confidence—textbook problem-solving under pressure."
A clear observation. Something closely akin to how he praised sn experiment going well on paper. It almost left his mind reeling.
He let that sit for a moment before his eyes flickered toward her now-micless phone, amusement creeping into his voice.
no subject
Even if an AI could process information exponentially faster than a human mind, even if it could develop a framework of self-awareness, that didn’t change the fact that it was still a simulation. A construct, bound by its initial programming. Growth was one thing, but true selfhood? That required something more than just an optimized feedback loop. And besides, technology’s relationship with cognition had never been anything short of a double-edged sword.
But—
Well.
That thought process completely derailed the second Ichinose whipped out a nail file and popped open her phone like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Maruki went quiet.
Not the kind of quiet where he was carefully formulating a response, either. No, this was a rare and fleeting instance of actual speechlessness.
His eyes followed her hands, watching as she moved with the kind of practiced precision that suggested she’d done this plenty of times before. The flicker of metal, the twist of her fingers, the sharp little snap as the microphone came free from the board. And then, just like that, she rolled the window down and tossed it out onto the street.
The entire process took mere seconds.
He blinked, mouth parting slightly—less in protest and more in something that suspiciously resembled actual admiration.
"…That was," he started, only to pause, lips pressing together as he considered his phrasing.
Then, with a small huff that was almost a chuckle, he nodded to himself.
"That was very… decisive of you, Ichinose-san." His tone was light, carefully measured, but there was no mistaking the genuine approval beneath it. "A well-thought-out action executed with absolute confidence—textbook problem-solving under pressure."
A clear observation. Something closely akin to how he praised sn experiment going well on paper. It almost left his mind reeling.
He let that sit for a moment before his eyes flickered toward her now-micless phone, amusement creeping into his voice.