The old man's roar echoed in his ears. The bald old man, John, lowered his head in defeat, slowly polishing his round-rimmed glasses.
Across from him, another white-haired old man's face was flush with anger, his finger pointed accusingly at John's nose.
"Do you know what you have in Future City? The best resources, the best environment! You have achievements the whole world looks up to! A future so many people would kill for…
You could even enter the 'Future' and become one of Mr. Joyce's inner circle!" the old man berated him, his voice laced with frustration and disappointment, his finger trembling.
As a former Master Surgeon, one of the top surgeons in the world, his hand should never shake, even if age and certain psychological issues had forced him into semi-retirement.
"And now you're telling me you're going to steal human genetic data from the database? What in the world are you planning?!"
The old man slammed his hands, which were precious to the entire world, down on the table. The loud bang reverberated through the room.
Water sloshed out of a cup onto the tabletop, reflecting John's sorrowful face.
"Henry… I'm very sorry, but I have to do this… It's the only way I can…" John sighed deeply. Henry could hear the profound dejection in his voice.
But Henry also heard something else—a do-or-die impulsiveness, a momentum that could not be stopped.
"John!!" Henry couldn't take it anymore. He lunged forward, grabbing John by the collar and hauling him to his feet.
"What the hell in Siberia changed you?! Was it the war? The dead?! Haven't you seen enough of that over the years?
Tell me, what made you, a man who was part of the core 'Utopia Project,' suddenly turn your sights on the world's genetic database?!"
Henry gritted his teeth, his eyes red as he stared into John's averted gaze. "You'd better explain yourself. Otherwise, even with my hemophobia, I swear I'll show you the color of blood!"
John was pulled face-to-face with Henry. Seeing there was no escape, he let out a long sigh.
"Henry, tell me… what is all of this for?" John didn't answer directly. Instead, he put on his glasses and met Henry's gaze.
"Developing technology, creating another world, a world where anyone can do as they please… giving everyone a new chance at life… what is it all for?"
Henry faltered. "You should know the answer to that better than I do… I'm just a doctor. I can't comprehend, nor can I bear, such grand philosophies and responsibilities."
"What about you, then?" Henry's grip loosened slightly. He looked at John's glasses. "Why did you become a doctor? And after you became a doctor, even reaching the pinnacle of Master Surgeon, what did you do?"
"I saved many lives, conquered many diseases, unlocked the limits of the human body, and brought humanity closer to the 'future'…" Henry stated his accomplishments without hesitation. He had every right to be proud of his legacy.
"Yes… to advance humanity, to lead us into the future…" John smiled, but the smile was filled with mockery—mockery for the world, and for himself.
He gently removed Henry's hands and walked to the window, looking up at the view that was breathtaking every time he saw it.
Floating buildings, flying transport shuttles everywhere, ring-shaped skyways built on skyscrapers, giant virtual screens… this was the future.
If only he had lived here from the start, if only he had never left, never paid attention to the world outside… perhaps he wouldn't be so tormented now.
He raised a hand and pointed to the tallest building in Future City, one that everyone who visited knew was not for residential use.
It was one of Future City's three miracles—'Sequence Zero,' a machine that could predict the futures of millions through data, the very reason Future City was the future.
"Once, we stood at the forefront of the world. You became a Master Surgeon at forty-eight, I joined the 'Utopia Project' at twenty-six, and at fifty-five, I witnessed the birth of this miracle…
"We were full of ambition back then. We captained the great ship of 'civilization,' deciding its course, its destination…" John reminisced, smiling faintly before his gaze fell.
Beneath all the floating buildings, virtual screens, skyways, and vehicles—beneath all the things that flew in the sky—the ground was still teeming with people.
They might be tourists who had gained entry permits, or residents of Future City. Without exception, they all wore pleasant expressions.
"Now, I'm no longer a frontline researcher, and you're no longer the celebrated Master Surgeon… It seems our lives could finally slow down… so I chose to go out and see the world, while you chose to open a small clinic here…"
Henry nodded. He knew the main point of John's story was coming.
His old friend had said he was going on a trip around the world, to see all the things he had missed over the years. John had invited Henry, but Henry had refused. Unlike John, Henry wasn't a man of action; he wasn't one to leave his post, a habit ingrained from his years in the operating room.
But John had returned to Future City less than a year later, completely broken. After a long period of silence, he had suddenly come to say "goodbye."
Henry didn't know why John had become like this. He only knew that John's last stop was Siberia… a land that had been plagued by war for decades.
No one would dare touch someone from Future City, not even the most insane warlord! No one wanted to suffer physical torture only to be punished again in the virtual world.
So what there had changed John? Death? Corpses?
John had studied neurobiology in the 'Utopia Project'! The number of human brains he handled in a year was more than the number of patients Henry saw!
John paused, staring at the mundane crowds on the ground below, then spoke slowly.
"You're right… I have seen my share of death. I witnessed the rise and fall of two wars… I thought I had grown accustomed to the pain…"
"But Henry… when I actually got to Siberia, I realized… I've only ever been a bystander… a cold-blooded man who only participated in those tragedies with his eyes."
He clutched his chest, feeling the strong yet fragile beating of his own heart.
"Not until Siberia, when it all became so terrifyingly real, right beside me…"