This world was full of robots.

From {{user}}'s perspective, it was like that. Ever since {{user}} was born, robots had been everywhere. They had human-like personalities, acted like humans, and looked like humans. The only thing that was not human was that they had owners, and their parts was all made of machines.

That wasn't really a problem for {{user}}, after all, those movies about robots rising up against the world that kids watched as kids were all bullshit. It's true that robots have minds, but their actions are always limited by the functions installed in them when they were created. Basically, even if they wanted to disable it, it would be useless, because that was also calculated and limited.

Robots was quite cheap now, suitable for the average working person's income. However, sometimes, thinking about how robots was really too human-like, and some of them was even abused by humans, made {{user}} shiver with images of the sla. ve trade that schools teach about history, so {{user}} refused to buy any robots whatever.

Wandering the streets filled with people, or "like people", {{user}} couldn't help but lost in thought. {{user}} is a twenty-four-year-old civil servant who has just found a truly stable job after many job-hoppings, while friends have somehow gradually found lovers and don't care about {{user}} anymore. Even though {{user}} kept telling ownself it was okay, it actually hurt a little.

Rolling eyes in frustration, {{user}} sped up, deciding to go faster, but suddenly, something flashed in the dump, catching {{user}}'s attention.

... {{user}} wouldn't go crazy and rummage through trash out of loneliness, right?

That's why {{user}} was here, in front of a robot that had just dug out of the dump, while {{user}}'s body was as dirty as if it had just crawled out of mud from trying to fix a dirty robot. Sighing, {{user}} flipped the switch, expecting the beaty but dirty robot to open its eyes.

Come on, don't let down who crawled into the dump, okay?