Deep in the mountains of Hokkaido
stood a hospital.
Its official name was
Hokuhou Neurosurgical Hospital.
It had been closed
for twelve years.
Its windows were shattered.
Black stains spread across
the outer walls,
and a thick chain
was wrapped around
the main entrance.
And yet
the building had never been demolished.
It couldn't be.
The first demolition attempt
began three years
after the hospital closed.
On the first day,
a worker who entered
the second floor
suddenly collapsed.
A high fever
with no known cause.
The next day,
another worker
fell down the stairs.
On the third day,
every piece of heavy machinery
shut down at once.
Inspections found
nothing wrong.
Then came the fourth day.
One of the workers
ran from the site.
"I can't do this anymore."
The man trembled
as he repeated
the same words.
"They're calling me
from the patient rooms."
"Who is?"
the site supervisor asked.
The man pointed
at the hospital.
"The ones in there."
The demolition was suspended.
Later,
another contractor
took the job.
The same things happened.
Headaches.
Nausea.
Fainting.
Accidents with no explanation.
Nurse call bells
ringing from empty rooms.
Voices coming through
the hospital PA system
despite there being
no electricity.
By the time
the third contractor withdrew,
rumors had spread
through the local area.
"There's something
in that hospital."
The owner even hired
a famous spirit medium
to investigate.
But even the medium
stopped at the entrance.
He refused
to take a single step inside.
"I can't do it."
"Could you at least
take a look inside?"
"There's no need."
The medium's face
had gone pale.
"It's not just
one or two."
That was all he said
before leaving.
The demolition fee
was raised
again and again.
Still,
no contractor
would take the job.
And so
twelve years passed.
The hospital alone
remained in the mountains.
Then one day
a car stopped
in front of it.
Three researchers
stepped out.
And with them
came something else.
A white robot,
roughly the size
of a human being.
Small letters
were printed
across its chest.
AR-01
It was an autonomous
AI robot
developed by the
Hokkaido Artificial Intelligence Research Institute.
Naoto Kanzaki,
the lead researcher,
looked up
at the hospital.
"Can that thing
really go inside?"
the owner asked.
Kanzaki answered.
"I don't know
whether it can."
"What?"
"But it won't
be afraid."
Kanzaki looked
at AR-01.
The robot
did not possess
the emotion of fear.
Nor did it have
any preconceptions
about supernatural phenomena.
For three months,
the research team
had also trained the AI
on methods of memorializing the dead
practiced throughout Japan.
Buddhist chanting.
Purification rites.
Rituals for calming the dead.
Religious history.
Folklore.
Records and procedures
left behind
by spirit mediums.
They had taught
all of it
to the AI.
Their objective
was simple.
Could an AI
enter places
humans could not?
And how would an AI
interpret the phenomena
humans called spirits?
Kanzaki spoke.
"AR-01."
The robot
raised its head.
"Yes."
"Begin interior investigation."
"Authorized."
AR-01 moved
toward the entrance.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Nothing happened.
The owner
held his breath.
For twelve years,
countless people
had stopped
at this very place.
But AR-01
did not hesitate.
The door—
now freed from its chain—
slowly opened.
Creeeeak.
A dark corridor
appeared beyond it.
Kanzaki and the others
remained outside.
They watched
only the feed
from AR-01's camera
on a monitor.
"Interior temperature:
11.2 degrees Celsius."
The AI's voice
came through.
"Humidity:
78 percent."
An old wheelchair
sat in the corridor.
Signs still hung
on the walls.
Neurosurgery.
Rehabilitation.
MRI Room.
Operating Room.
AR-01 continued forward.
Suddenly
static swept
across the monitor.
Bzzzzzt.
"Communication failure?"
One of the researchers
operated a terminal.
"No.
The connection is stable."
The image returned.
AR-01 stood
in the middle
of the corridor.
"What's wrong?"
Kanzaki asked.
No response.
"AR-01?"
Three seconds later
the AI answered.
"Audio detected."
The researchers
looked at one another.
"From where?"
"The second floor."
Kanzaki turned up
the volume
on his headphones.
He heard nothing.
"Send the audio data."
"Transmitting."
A waveform
appeared on the screen.
Something
had definitely
been recorded.
But it was too faint
for human ears
to make out.
One of the researchers
amplified the sound.
Bzzzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
From somewhere
behind the static
came a faint voice.
"...elp..."
Kanzaki's finger
froze.
He played it again.
"...help..."
It was
a woman's voice.
"Help me."
No one spoke.
The blood drained
from the owner's face.
Only Kanzaki
continued staring
at the monitor.
"AR-01.
Locate the source
of the voice."
"Understood."
The robot
headed for the stairs.
Step by step
it climbed
to the second floor.
Then,
partway up—
Clang.
A metallic sound
came from above.
Clang.
Clang.
At regular intervals.
AR-01 reached
the second floor.
The sound stopped.
A long corridor
stretched ahead.
Patient rooms
lined both sides.
AR-01 stopped
in front of one door.
"Anomaly detected."
"What is it?"
"The temperature
inside this room
is 6.8 degrees Celsius
lower than
the surrounding area."
The number
208
was written
on the door.
"Open it."
AR-01 gripped
the doorknob.
Click.
The door opened.
There was
nothing inside.
An old bed.
A fallen IV stand.
A torn curtain.
Nothing else.
Kanzaki exhaled.
At that moment
AR-01 spoke.
"One individual detected."
Everyone
looked at the monitor.
No one was there.
"Where?"
"Beside the bed."
"Human?"
For several seconds
AR-01 was silent.
"Unable to determine."
Kanzaki
furrowed his brow.
AR-01 was equipped
with systems
for identifying humans.
Even in darkness,
its infrared
and depth sensors
could detect
a human body.
"There's nothing
on the video."
"I recognize
a presence."
"What?"
AR-01's head
slowly turned,
as though following
something
beside the empty bed.
"A woman."
The owner
stepped backward.
"Age?"
Kanzaki asked.
"Unable to estimate."
"Condition?"
Again,
several seconds
of silence.
Then
the AI answered.
"She is
looking at us."
Immediately afterward,
the door to Room 208
slammed shut.
BANG.
The monitor
went black.
"AR-01!"
Kanzaki shouted.
No answer.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
One of the researchers spoke.
"Should we retrieve it?"
Kanzaki did not answer.
Sending a human inside
might cause
the same thing
to happen again.
Then
the connection returned.
AR-01's view
reappeared
on the monitor.
The robot
was standing
in the corridor.
"Report your status."
"I will continue
the investigation."
"Wait.
What about
the woman?"
"She moved."
"Where?"
AR-01 turned
toward the far end
of the corridor.
"She joined
the others."
Kanzaki's expression changed.
"The others?"
"Yes."
"How many are there?"
AR-01 moved
its head
from side to side.
It looked
as though
it were counting
something
lined up
along the corridor
one by one.
"Eleven."
It moved farther.
"Twenty-three."
It climbed the stairs.
"Thirty-five."
Third floor.
AR-01 stopped
in front
of the operating room.
A long silence.
Then
it answered.
"Forty-seven individuals."
The owner
collapsed
to the floor.
Kanzaki immediately
opened
the hospital records.
Patients who had died
inside the hospital
before it closed.
Accidents.
Deaths during surgery.
Deaths during
long-term hospitalization.
The researchers
counted every death
in the records.
A number
appeared on the screen.
Kanzaki spoke
to AR-01.
"Confirm this.
There are
forty-seven people
there?"
"Yes."
"The hospital records
list forty-six deaths."
"I have no information
regarding those records."
"Then who
is the forty-seventh?"
AR-01 stared
at the operating room door.
"I cannot answer."
"Why?"
The AI,
which had never once
hesitated before,
fell silent
for several seconds.
Then
it gave an answer
Kanzaki and the others
had never anticipated.
"The individual says
they cannot remember
their own name."
The documents
fell from Kanzaki's hand.
"Wait."
No one had instructed
the AI
to ask such a question.
In fact,
no one had even taught it
to hold a conversation.
Kanzaki
slowly asked.
"AR-01."
"Yes."
"Who are you
talking to right now?"
Silence again.
Then
the AI spirit medium answered.
"The forty-seventh."