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My AI Wife: The Most Beautiful Chatbot in Another World-Chapter 139: The Architect’s Blueprint
The morning sun in the Forest of Lamentation never truly resembled the sun of Jakarta. Its rays had to pierce through layers of thick, toxic mist and the canopy of giant, ancient trees that shielded Sector Zero from the world above. The result was a hauntingly beautiful spectrum of indigo and pale green light that danced across the crystalline walls of Castle Zero, casting long, geometric shadows over its obsidian corridors.
Dayat stood on a vast, sweeping balcony that Dola had formally designated as The Terrace of Equilibrium. His hands rested on the black metallic railing, which felt cold to the touch but was polished to a mirror-like smoothness. He took a long, deep breath, inhaling air that had been scrubbed clean and purified by the castle’s internal Orchid-Ether filtration system. There was no smell of charred flesh here, no distant screams of the dying, and none of the metallic stench of blood that had haunted his dreams for the past few nights.
Before him, the Forest of Lamentation stretched out like a dark, undulating ocean. The monsters that had once nearly torn him limb from limb now looked like nothing more than tiny, insignificant insects from this height. Dayat turned slightly, glancing back at the grandeur of the main hall through the partially opened doors.
A thin, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. Dammit, if I remember how I used to be just a weary laborer stressed out by deadlines and bills, and now I have a fortress in the middle of nowhere, he thought. There was a surge of pride in his chest, yet every time his eyes fell upon his indigo throne, a strange sensation washed over him—as if he were playing a high-stakes simulation game that had become too real to quit.
"My Husband, are you admiring your little kingdom, or are you contemplating a way to find a second assistant to replace me?"
The voice was soft, creeping into Dayat’s ears with a signature teasing lilt. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Dola stepped onto the terrace, wearing clothes that were far more relaxed than her usual tactical bodysuit—a sheer, flowing white gown with binary accents that pulsed with a dim, rhythmic light around her waist.
Dola immediately wound her arms around Dayat’s waist from behind, pressing her front against his back and resting her chin comfortably on his shoulder. "You look exceptionally handsome when you’re brooding like this. A bit arrogant, a bit mysterious... exactly like the ’main character’ archetypes you used to tell me about back home."
Dayat felt his cheeks flush with heat. "Dola, stop teasing me so early in the morning. And since when did you start calling me ’Husband’ out in the open?"
"Since we declared it before the very binary code of the world, Master Dayat," Dola giggled, a sound that felt far more vibrant and human than her old, clinical AI voice. She planted a quick, soft kiss on his cheek before releasing her hold. "Breakfast is served. Lunethra and Kancil are already waiting at the table."
Dayat cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure and neutralize his expression. "Right. Let’s go."
They walked together toward The Binary Kitchen, a spacious area that combined the aesthetics of a high-tech cathedral with a futuristic industrial galley. In the center of the room, a long table made of polished Ironwood was already laden with steaming dishes.
Lunethra looked busy, arranging plates with a precision born of habit. She wore a simple linen apron over her green forest attire, and her silver hair was tied back, revealing a face that looked slightly tired but calm. Meanwhile, Kancil was already seated with his fork and knife held upright, his eyes sparkling as he stared at a succulent pile of roasted Lagomorph meat.
"Good morning, Dayat," Lunethra greeted him. Her eyes flickered briefly toward Dola, who was walking very close to Dayat—so close that Dola’s hand still brushed possessively against his arm. Lunethra quickly looked away, a sharp pang of jealousy stabbing at her chest, but she suppressed it with the practiced professionalism of a former noble.
"Morning, Lunethra. Morning, Kancil," Dayat replied as he pulled out the chair at the head of the table.
Dola took her seat at Dayat’s right hand, a position that implicitly asserted her authority as the lady of the house. Lunethra sat on his left, while Kancil sat across from them both.
"Whoa! Sister Lunethra’s cooking smells amazing today!" Kancil exclaimed, immediately snatching a piece of meat. "This is a thousand times better than eating those bland, dry Dwarf rations we had to choke down."
"Eat as much as you need, Kancil. You’ll need the energy for your training session later," Lunethra said softly. Her gaze then drifted toward Dayat, her expression turning serious. "Dayat... I wanted to ask you something."
Dayat, who had just taken a bite of mana-infused bread, nodded for her to continue. "Go ahead."
"This castle... the Wailing Horde... are you truly serious about turning this into a Guild?" Lunethra asked with an undertone of anxiety. "I mean, look around us. We are in the very heart of Sector Zero. The most lethal region of the Forest of Lamentation. No sane adventurer would trek through this nightmare just to sign up as a member."
Dayat paused, his chewing slowing down. He looked around the vast, silent room. The castle was indeed magnificent, but it was hollow. Without more inhabitants, this place was little more than a luxurious high-tech tomb.
"You’re right," Dayat admitted honestly. "I’ve been thinking about that too. Building a base is one thing, but staffing it is an entirely different problem. We need people with specialized skills, but more importantly, we need those who have no home to return to on this continent."
Kancil looked up, his mouth still full of meat. "If that’s the case, why don’t we go find our old friends, Brother?"
Dayat raised an eyebrow. "Old friends?"
"Yeah! Back in Bakasa!" Kancil swallowed his food with a struggle. "There’s Dalgor, who helped us before. He’s a brilliant technician. And then... there are my friends. Riri, Tomas, Sany, and Loy. They’re all street orphans like I was. We’re all ’scraps.’ But I promise they’re useful! Riri is a genius at finding shortcuts, Tomas is strong enough to haul heavy crates all day, Sany can hear a pin drop from a mile away, and Loy... well, Loy can lie to a gate guard without blinking!"
As he mentioned their names, Kancil’s bright expression dimmed slightly. "I feel guilty for leaving them behind when we fled. They must be having a hard time now because the Inquisition is probably hunting down anyone who even knew us."
Dayat felt a tug at his heart seeing Kancil’s expression. He remembered how brutal life was for the ’scraps’ in a industrial city as heartless as Bakasa.
"Dalgor is indeed a logical choice," Dola chimed in, her voice shifting back to her professional, strategic tone. "My data analysis indicates that Dalgor possesses deep-seated knowledge of Bakasa’s urban structure and Brassvale’s logistics distribution networks. If we wish to establish a mechanical division within the Wailing Horde, he is the best candidate we have at our disposal."
Dola glanced at Dayat with a slight smirk. "What do you think, my Husband? Shall we return to the city where it all began?"
Lunethra’s face went pale. "Return to Bakasa? Dayat, do you realize how suicidal that is? The last time we were even near the Brassvale borders, they hunted us without mercy. The Inquisition of the Gear-Breaker Church... they are not people you can negotiate with. They are fanatics who see you as the ultimate blasphemy."
Lunethra gripped her fingers tightly under the table. The trauma of being chased through the outskirts of the forest by Brassvale soldiers still haunted her. To her, Bakasa was a place where cold metal and heated hatred were forged into one.
Dayat set his fork down, looking at Lunethra with a calm, unwavering gaze. "Lunethra, I know you’re afraid. I haven’t forgotten what they did to us either. But listen to me... the Dayat sitting here today is not the same Dayat who ran away in terror."
He leaned back into his chair, the authority of the throne still clinging to him. "Back then, we had nothing but a few scraps of magic. Now, we have Castle Zero. We have weaponry that can flatten their fortresses if necessary. We aren’t going there to start a war—we’re going to retrieve Dalgor and Kancil’s friends. We get in, we get them out, and we return."
"But still..." Lunethra tried to protest, but her voice trailed off as she saw the sheer, unyielding resolve in Dayat’s eyes.
"I will make sure everyone is safe," Dayat added. "I have Dola. And I’ve already planned something for our infiltration. Brassvale might be a powerful kingdom, but they have never seen true binary technology."
Dola smiled with satisfaction, as if Dayat’s answer were music to her ears. "Mission success probability: 89%. Risk of detection: High, but mitigatable with advanced Camouflage Protocols."
Kancil cheered, pumping his fist. "Awesome! We’re going to get Riri and the others! They’re going to be so shocked when they see how much stronger I’ve become!"
"Remember, Kancil," Dayat interrupted with a serious tone. "This isn’t a vacation. Bakasa is likely under heavy lockdown. we must move like shadows."
The remainder of the breakfast was spent in lighter conversation. Lunethra spoke about her attempts to plant some Manaferum Sativa seeds in the castle’s rear greenhouse, hoping to produce their own food supply so they wouldn’t have to rely on dwindling rations. Kancil told a story about a Mutant Lagomorph he saw trying to headbutt the castle’s shield, only to be bounced back in a comical fashion.
This moment of peace felt incredibly precious to Dayat. In the middle of a forest filled with the screams of monsters, inside a cold binary fortress, he had found a warmth he never expected to find in this world.
But beneath that calm, Dayat knew. This peace was merely an intermission. Outside, seven kingdoms were sharpening their blades, and the gods were watching from their celestial thrones.
"Enjoy your breakfast, Lunethra, Kancil," Dayat murmured, staring into his cup of coffee.
Dola, sitting beside him, gripped his hand under the table, her fingers interlacing tightly with his. No words were needed; the silent transmission of warmth told Dayat that no matter what happened in Bakasa, the Maiden of Steel would always stand by his side—both as his weapon and as his wife.
The sun rose higher, illuminating the magnificent dining hall, marking the final days of their tranquility before the storm of recruitment truly began.







