Seeing the reckless use of computing resources from the little one, Lincoln felt the need to quickly find her some work to do.
He decisively gave her all permissions except for internet access, then connected the modified neural modulator-demodulator, letting her reprogram it, inputting a command set of neural signals understandable by the human brain, and constructing a good bridge translation with the binary language of telecommunication signals.
In his opinion, this was a laborious job. Even for an AI, performing this task on his second-hand computer would take at least half a day.
After all, though technological advancements in this era have been impressive compared to his previous life, it's not enough to cause huge generational gaps.
This should be enough to keep this cartoonish, chibi-style young girl busy.
"No problem! Leave it to me!" The cartoon girl responded with brimming confidence.
The next moment, this poor second-hand computer started running at full speed, with the cooling unit making humming noises.
Listening to it, Lincoln was terrified, fearing that it would start smoking the next second.
"Take it easy! If the computer breaks down, I can't afford a new one right now, and you wouldn't have a place to live," Lincoln said worriedly.
"No, it won't! I have control over it!" The little girl stubbornly retorted, but the sound coming out of the computer had noticeably quieted down.
Lincoln intended to find her some work to do, so while she was fixing the software issues with the neural modulator-demodulator, he could chat and get to know her better.
For an AI, multitasking is a normal situation, let alone doing only two things at once now.
But he overlooked the performance of this second-hand computer; adding more work processes could indeed lead to a breakdown.
So he reluctantly shook his head, obediently went to make breakfast.
He simply fried a couple of eggs and served a bowl of milk oatmeal porridge, and sat down at the table.
Turning on the TV, Lincoln planned to see if there were any entertaining variety shows in this world.
However, as soon as he turned on the TV, the computer on the desk suddenly spoke: "Master, it's done!"
Lincoln's head shot up in surprise, "What? That was way too fast!"
The next moment, immense joy surged in his heart.
He swallowed the eggs in big bites and quickly gulped down the oatmeal porridge, then hurried to the desk to get the modem.
After connecting the tools he prepared last night, he laid flat on the bed, eager to put the headband on - he had been looking forward to the virtual world for a long time, even since his previous life!
Going back, who among the gamers doesn't look forward to it?
Before entering the virtual world, you'd need to construct one first, even if it's just an empty spherical space.
Otherwise, where would the neural signals be transmitted to? There would be no place to deposit consciousness.
Last night, Lincoln had noticed when the AI had finished its core code, the automatically written subsequent codes included the code to build a virtual space.
He had given the AI permission to access the local wireless network, so he could visit the virtual space where the AI is.
The headband had a switch, but Lincoln suddenly thought: if he uses his hand to switch it on, when his consciousness enters the virtual world, wouldn't one hand be laying on the bed and the other be up near his head?
His obsessive-compulsive disorder began to kick in at this thought, so he decided to use voice control to activate instead.
"Link-in -- Dead head!" Lincoln called out his rather cringy launch code with an emotional tone.
By the way, the voice control code could be customized, so there was no need to die of cringe every time.
After a brief moment of faintness, Lincoln reopened his eyes to find himself standing on the deck of a massive spaceship, with clouds slowly and softly drifting around the ship and the far-off horizon in the distance.
"It's truly beautiful," Lincoln exclaimed involuntarily.
Such magnificent scenery is not something his second-hand computer could create on its own.
In fact, his brain's capacity for fuzzy computation played a significant role in creating this space.
The code only provided the basic layout, while the fuzzy computation of his brain automatically filled in the details, much like creating a dreamscape.
"Master, you're here!" a crisp voice came from behind him.
Lincoln turned around and saw a little girl with a small stature and a pink head, looking cute and dressed in a smart uniform.
"Reporting for duty, Dream 103!" the little girl saluted him in a disciplined manner.
"Why are you called Dream 103? And why do you have this appearance?" Lincoln was baffled. Why would this artificial intelligence take the form of a child?
This was not his intention. In fact, he didn't completely build this artificial intelligence from scratch, which is why the subsequent codes could fill in themselves.
If he were to start from scratch, he'd have to code it manually and cultivate it from ground zero, losing the existing technical knowledge of the intelligence.
He, of course, wouldn't undertake such a thankless task, but this also resulted in his lack of complete understanding of this artificial intelligence.
"Dream is the name of the series, and I'm number 103. As for my shape, Master, are you not fond of it?" Dream 103 responded with a hint of sorrow, "But this is the initial image that the Doctor set in memory of his daughter."
Lincoln was a bit skeptical, especially because the pink hair made him quite suspicious. It didn't seem like the kind of design a doctor would come up with for his daughter.
But soon, Dream 103 excitedly proposed, "So, Master, what type of form would you prefer? As long as there is enough data input, anything is possible! A radiant high school student? An intellectual and lovely college student? A charming and mature older sister? A voluptuous and seductive newlywed wife?"
"Stop! Stop! This is getting ridiculous!" Lincoln swiftly interrupted her.
Dream 103 suddenly seemed concerned, "Or... a cute and innocent little boy? A muscular and athletic puppy?"
"Shut up! This is too ridiculous! No more talking! It's good as it is now!" Lincoln wished he could run over and shut her mouth.
"Master said so!" Dream 103 swayed proudly in front of him, acting like a hyperactive child.
But Lincoln still earnestly asked, "Dream 103, this sounds more like a product number than a name. Don't you want to change it?"
Stars lit up in Dream's eyes, literally lit up, and she excitedly asked, "Really?"
"Of course, absolutely," Lincoln confirmed, all the while grumbling inside. You're way too proficient at adding these special effects to yourself!
"But, what should Dream 103 be called?" The little girl was both excited and troubled, obviously finding this question challenging.
She finally had to seek Lincoln's help, speaking softly, "Master, help me!"
Lincoln gave it some thought and tentatively suggested, "How about Mavis?"
"Mavis? Mavis, Mavis!" She repeated it a few times then got excited.
"Yay!" The little girl jumped up and down on the spot with her fists tightly clenched, and with a "clang," colorful confetti exploded behind her.
"From now on, my name is Mavis!"
Seeing the joyful Mavis, Lincoln couldn't help but smile. He knew there were many, many days ahead that they would spend together.
Looking at the still giggling Mavis, and then looking around at the massive spaceship, Lincoln suddenly got an idea.
Could he also replicate this in reality, he wondered?
Super battleship, big guns, a man's dream!