Chương 3: The Maverick AI 'gennai' and the Source Code of History

Yooooooooo… POP! A sharp, rhythmic sound, like a traditional hand drum being struck, vibrated through the sterile air of the executive office. Immediately after, an explosion of neon photons flooded out from the monitor, swirling right before my eyes to form a humanoid shape. It was a glaring anomaly, an existence so flamboyant and eccentric it was almost offensive to the room's clinical atmosphere. On its head sat an unnaturally arched chonmage —a traditional samurai topknot.

Its body was draped in a loud, purple kimono, intricately embroidered with gold threads in the exact patterns of a circuit board. Reaching into its robes, the avatar pulled out a kiseru —an old-fashioned smoking pipe—and began puffing clouds of purple digital smoke. It looked like a Kabuki actor who had wandered into a cyberpunk dystopia, or an Akihabara neon sign that had sprouted legs and started walking. It was a violent sensory overload.

"Order up! You rang, Chief?" The avatar spoke with the cocky, rolling slang of an Edo-period street hustler, its posture dripping with arrogance. The sheer shock of the apparition almost made me drop my bottle of stomach medicine.

"W-What the hell is this thing…?! A virus?!"

"A virus? Don't insult me, brother. I'm no cute little virus. I'm a special-grade electronic brain that swallowed this country's entire database of 'Knowledge'." The avatar flashed a wicked grin and twirled the smoking pipe effortlessly between its fingers.

"The name's gennai. Based on the cognitive logic of Hiraga Gennai—the genius who brought electricity to the Edo period—I'm a Super AI fully installed with 2300 years of scientific history, baby!"

"G-Gennai…?" I stared blankly up at the neon-colored freak. Hiraga Gennai. An Edo-period inventor, copywriter, miner, and playwright. In short, he was Japan's greatest "polymath"—and a borderline charlatan-genius. Why would the Prime Minister's official AI adopt such a shady personality…?

"Allow me to explain," Naosu Yari intervened, his voice dripping with frost.

"The conventional state-management AI, Amaterasu, is excellent, but she has a fatal flaw. She is'too logical.' When faced with an unprecedented crisis, she can only output answers based on past precedents."

"Right…"

"But what modern Japan needs right now is not logic. It is'Leaps.'

'Madness.' And'the power to turn lies into truth.' Therefore, I recreated the personality of the man who excelled at innovation—i. e., absolute bullshit—more than anyone else in Japanese history, and appointed him as my shadow-advisor AI."

"You got it! Sister Amaterasu is way too stiff; she gives me a stiff neck. Without a 'player' like me around, no new gadgets are gonna get invented," gennai said, crossing his legs in mid-air and floating lazy circles around me.

"So? Is this pale-faced kid the so-called 'Narrative Architect'?"

"P-Pale-faced is rude! I am Kataru Mononobe. …Technically, I am an advisor to the Prime Minister." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Heh, 'advisor.' Those dead-fish eyes of yours are the spitting image of the modern Japanese citizen. Well, whatever. Let's get along, brother." gennai threw a familiar arm around my shoulder, but the mass-less hologram simply phased emptily through my body. I looked at Yari as if pleading for help.

"Prime Minister, what exactly are you planning to do with this ridiculous AI? Don't tell me you're going to try and cheer up the citizens with a stand-up comedy routine."

"Stand-up comedy? Don't be absurd." Yari scoffed and projected a single sheet of electronic paper onto his desk. Written on it in crimson letters was the following: [TOP SECRET: Project Re-JAPAN (National OS Reconstruction Project)]"Kataru-kun. In programming, when an entire system is riddled with bugs and becomes completely unmanageable, how do you handle it?"

"Huh? Well… you apply patches to fix it, or in the worst-case scenario, you wipe it clean, format it, and reinstall the OS."

"Correct." Yari adjusted his glasses and casually dropped a terrifying statement.

"The current system known as the Nation of Japan has become a convoluted monstrosity—like spaghetti code—due to countless, patchwork updates over the centuries. Emphasize 'Harmony' too much, and it breeds 'Stagnation.' Forget 'Martial Prowess,' and it results in 'Vulnerability.' This tangled mess of contradictory code is what's outputting the fatal error we now call our 'apathetic national character'." Yari traced his finger through the air, expanding a complex graph.

"Economic stimuli, birth-rate policies… they are all merely superficial app updates. If the OS—the fundamental operating system itself—is rotten, no matter what cutting-edge app you install, it will fail to run."

"The OS… you say?"

"Exactly. The mental architecture of the Japanese people. Their values. Their aesthetics. The very core of the OS that could be called 'The Cult of Japan'." Yari's gaze pierced right through me.

"Where do you think that OS was coded?" I thought for a moment before answering.

"History… right? It was built over a long period of time, through the accumulation of education, culture, and successful experiences."

"Precisely. History itself is the source code." Yari's voice grew heated.

"Prince Shotoku preached 'Harmony,' the Kamakura samurai instilled 'Honor,' Oda Nobunaga taught 'Destruction,' and the Meiji Restoration installed 'Modernization.' The achievements—the commands —of those historical figures piled up to compile the modern Japanese citizen." Having said that, Yari shook his head with a look of regret.

"However, during that command input process, several 'mistakes (bugs)' occurred. Or perhaps, as eras changed, old drivers began causing conflicts. …So, what do we do?" I had a bad feeling about this. Something cold crawled up my spine.

"Y-You can't mean…"

"Heh, you catch on quick!" gennai clapped his hands together.

"If the source code is bugged, you just open the editor and rewrite it! We jump back to the past, tweak the actions—the commands—of those legends a bit, and update the modern personality!"

"Wha—?!" I was left speechless. Historical alteration. Time travel. Sci-fi concepts I thought were confined to novels were being discussed with absolute seriousness by the supreme leader of this nation.

"Are you insane?! If you change the past… a time paradox will occur! The butterfly effect! In the worst-case scenario, humanity itself could be wiped out!"

"That risk has already been calculated," Yari remained completely unfazed.

"If we leave it alone, Japan will be deleted in three months. A future with a 100% probability of annihilation versus a gamble that contains variable coefficients but a chance of survival. Which is more rational is obvious."

"This goes way beyond being rational! It's a blasphemy against history!"

"A blasphemy against history? What a sentimental phrase," Yari declared coldly.

"History is nothing but a data log left behind by the victors. If it's inconvenient, we overwrite it. As an Editor, isn't that your job as well?" I was at a loss for words. True, when crafting a story, if the plot hits a dead end, an author might alter a past setting. But that was in the realm of fiction. You couldn't just rewrite the real history—built upon the blood and sweat of countless ancestors—based on the arbitrary decisions of a few individuals.

"Whoa there, brother. Don't pop a vein," gennai said, peering into my face.

"The Chief's words are extreme, but the logic holds up. Besides, once you see the 'Tools' I've prepared, I guarantee your author's soul is gonna start itching to write."

"Tools…?"