"The robot took my job."
"Robots are a conspiracy by the Marching Ant Company to rule the world!"
"Artificial intelligence belongs to all of humanity! Marching Ants must release their AI code unconditionally!"
"The company should submit its AI programs for international oversight to prevent robots from betraying humans!"
…
Voices like these echoed from every corner of the world, flooding international networks. Debates about robot ethics, clearly orchestrated by hidden hands, spread like wildfire across the web.
Inside the Marching Ant headquarters, a high-level meeting was underway. Chen Mo was absent. Zhao Min sat at the head of the long conference table, expressionless.
On her left were the core executives of the administrative system, led by Li Lingfeng. On her right sat the Legal Department team, with Li Huai at its center.
The room was heavy with tension. All eyes were on Li Lingfeng as he presented.
"Across Europe and the U.S., numerous media outlets are claiming that robots pose a threat to world security. They're calling for international organizations to intervene and force us to release our AI programs."
He gestured to the projector, which cycled through headlines and news clips from around the world.
"Foreign networks, newspapers, TV channels—everywhere is saturated with the same three talking points:
One, robots endanger human safety and must be supervised.
Two, robots are part of our plot—or Huaxia's—to dominate the world.
Three, we must publish the artificial intelligence code and open it for joint development."
He held a stack of reports as everyone quietly listened.
Zhao Min remained calm, her expression unreadable. The others exchanged cautious glances but waited for her cue.
"How's the situation in China?" she asked.
Li Lingfeng snapped to attention and handed her a summary.
"Domestic networks are also being targeted. Some black-hat accounts are echoing the foreign narratives, demanding we publish the smart code. There was a case of a robot allegedly injuring someone, but the suspect has already been arrested and the site contacted to remove the post. Still, the water army is stirring things up, accusing us of whitewashing on our official Weibo."
"Is the impact significant?" Zhao Min asked evenly.
"Quite," Li Lingfeng admitted. "Judging by the volume and coordination, someone has clearly hired multiple water army firms. This smear campaign is larger than anything we've seen before."
"Hmph. The king is easy to see, but it's always the petty devils that keep popping up," Zhao Min said coldly.
She could tolerate discussions about robot ethics—every technology has its controversies. But this? This was a full-scale slander operation.
"No need to issue a clarification," she said firmly. "Let them say what they want. Our robots aren't made for keyboard warriors and trolls. If real rumors break out, the Legal Department will handle it. Sue every one of them. Once a rumor surfaces, crush it."
She turned to Li Huai.
"Understood," he nodded.
This wasn't the first time. They had cracked down before and silenced many, but greed always brought new players to the field.
"Alright. Stay alert. Phones on 24/7," Zhao Min ordered as she stood and left the room.
Back at her office, a robot assistant handed her a cup of tea. Since the robots went public, human office assistants at the Marching Ant Company had been phased out.
"Zhao Jie, do you want to inform him?" Xiao Yu asked gently.
"No need. It's not serious enough to disturb him," Zhao Min said, taking the cup and walking to the window. "Besides, he already knows. You go on. Just carry on as usual."
Those behind this storm were clearly hoping to provoke a misstep. But that wasn't going to happen.
Marching Ant once again dominated the news—but this time it wasn't just slander. It was sensationalized fear-mongering, hyping the danger of robots while conveniently ignoring their benefits.
"Ink Girl, begin," Chen Mo said in a low voice, staring at the computer screen.
He usually ignored nonsense like this. But while Zhao Min might not know who was behind it all, he did.
Without a decisive counterattack, the world would always see the Marching Ant Company as a pushover.
"Okay." Mo Nu's voice responded lightly.
Elsewhere, Jiang Dong was sipping tea in his office, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation.
His company specialized in digital manipulation—smearing reputations or whitewashing scandals for the right price. A few weeks ago, a celebrity cheating scandal had brought in decent money. Now, Marching Ant was proving to be a lucrative client.
Business had been good this year.
He didn't care who hired him. Army Ant or literal ants—if they paid, he worked. And besides, he wasn't the only one. Several firms had joined in the Marching Ant smear campaign.
This project might open the door to more.
But as he savored the moment, his computer screen suddenly went black. A foul odor wafted from the CPU.
His pupils contracted.
Before he could react, an employee rushed in, panic written all over his pale face.
"Boss… the computers… they're all fried!"
"What? All of them?!"
Jiang Dong bolted from his chair and ran out. The office reeked of burnt plastic. Inside, the mainframes were literally smoking.
Most of the staff had evacuated already.
"Did we get hit by a virus?" another pale-faced employee asked shakily.
Jiang Dong's blood ran cold. A virus that could simultaneously destroy both mobile phones and computers? Unless this was a global cybercrisis, there was only one answer.
It was them.
"…We're done for."
He looked around at the devastation. Burnt machines. Dead devices. Gone accounts.
"Check the accounts!" he shouted.
But it was already too late.
Minutes later, he slumped to the ground, numb. The marketing accounts were gone. Entire groups disbanded or wiped clean.
And it wasn't just Jiang Dong. Four other companies involved in the smear campaign were hit at the exact same time. All their systems destroyed. Data erased. Accounts annihilated.
The attack couldn't be covered up.
The underground circle of water army companies exploded in panic.
Five companies. All known to be involved in the Marching Ant campaign. And now all five were ruined.
Everyone in the business knew who had struck.
The message was crystal clear: the Marching Ant Company had been angered.
Other PR firms were relieved they hadn't touched this job.
"Did Marching Ant's official account… just start sounding kind of normal?"
"Rumor has it the water army firms that attacked Marching Ant were completely destroyed. No Wu Mao left, no orders paid. Everyone disbanded."
"Finally, the courtyard is clean again. Grass. Marching Ant's PR team is elite. Get in losers—we're racing!"
The water army vanished. For the first time in ages, the internet breathed freely again.
And while no one could prove it was the Marching Ant hackers, everyone in the industry got the message.
A new taboo had emerged in the PR circle: never mess with the Marching Ant Company.
As time passed, debates about robot ethics persisted. But behind the noise, technology kept pushing forward.
And in the shadow of that progress—something new was already brewing.