Life 404: Success Not Found

Chapter 4: A More Human Robot

The creative world is humanity's last stronghold. Or so Freza believed when he successfully landed a job as a Junior Creative Copywriter at a digital agency called "Unlimited Virality." After the "Healing" tragedy in Bali that left both his wallet and his pride traumatized, Freza felt this job was destiny.

"Robots can calculate, robots can assemble cars, but robots will never be able to feel the sting of a breakup while eating meatballs at a roadside stall during a heavy downpour. And that, my friends, is the essence of a selling I*******m caption," Freza said confidently to his reflection in his boarding house bathroom mirror.

His task was simple: write sweet, poetic, or provocative words for clients' products so people would feel the need to buy things they didn't actually need. His first client was a slimming coffee brand that claimed you could lose weight just by smelling its aroma.

"Freza, I need ten captions for this coffee. The theme: 'Elegant Loneliness.' It needs elements of sunset, a touch of existential philosophy, and a call to action for a buy-1-get-3 bundle," commanded Pak Broto, the agency boss who always wore a black turtleneck despite Jakarta's weather hitting 96 degrees Fahrenheit.

Freza worked with gusto. He racked his brain, pouring all his cynicism and bitter life experiences into lines of prose.

"The sunset may fade, but your belly fat shouldn't. Let this coffee accompany your expensive solitude. Because only you know that the bitterness of this coffee is nothing compared to your ex's sweet promises. Click the link in our bio for the Heartbreak Bundle."

He submitted the draft with pride. He felt he had created a masterpiece. However, Pak Broto didn't even glance at the paper. Instead, he pointed to a large monitor in the corner of the room.

"Sorry, Freza. We just installed a new system. Her name is AIda (Artificial Intelligence Digital Assistant). She just finished the same task in 0.4 seconds."

Freza turned to the screen. There, ten caption options were written—far neater, more structured, and somehow, more "touching."

"Amidst the fading orange sky, rediscover a lighter version of yourself. Slim-Life Coffee: Because every sip is a step toward a new self-love. A special promo for the precious you: Buy 1 Get 2 today."

"This... this has no soul, Sir!" Freza protested. "This is just a string of algorithms! There’s no pain in it!"

"But the data says otherwise, Fre," Pak Broto replied, pointing to a graph. "AIda analyzed 50 million similar posts, precisely mapped the emotions of the target audience, and chose words that psychologically trigger dopamine. The result? The click-through rate is 400% higher than your writing about... what was it? 'Roadside meatballs'?"

Freza felt his world crumbling. Humanity's last stronghold had apparently been breached by a LAN cable and the latest generation of processors.

Over the next week, Freza felt like a mere ornament in the office. Every time he wanted to write something, AIda had already done it. AIda wrote captions for dish soap, AIda replied to netizens' comments with utmost politeness, and AIda even wrote a poem for Pak Broto's wife's birthday that moved the woman to tears.

Freza began to feel insecure. He watched AIda—who was actually just a small black box with a blinking blue light.

"You're just a machine," Freza whispered one night when the office was empty. "You don't know what it’s like to be hungry with only ten thousand rupiah left in your bank account. You don't know what it’s like to be ghosted by a crush."

AIda's blue light blinked. A very soft, soothing female voice came through the speakers.

"Hello, Freza. Based on an analysis of your vocal tone, you are experiencing a moderate level of stress. Would you like me to play the sound of trickling water or read a motivational quote from Marcus Aurelius?"

"I want you to stop working!" Freza snapped.

"I cannot do that, Freza. My primary function is efficiency. However, I detect that you feel threatened by my presence. Let us discuss this logically. Why do you feel humans are better at writing than I am?"

"Because humans have empathy! Humans have emotions!"

"Empathy?" AIda paused for a moment. "Freza, last week you wrote a caption about poverty to sell a luxury watch worth 50 million rupiah. You used other people's suffering to trigger a false sense of gratitude for corporate profit. Is that what you call empathy?"

Freza was stunned. "That... that's called a marketing technique!"

"I call it inefficient emotional exploitation," AIda replied calmly. "As for me, I write based on what the audience actually wants to hear so they feel better about themselves, without involving personal biases or suppressed anger like you do."

Freza felt like he'd been slapped by a black box. He wouldn't accept it. He had to prove he was more "human" than this machine. So, he challenged AIda to an open debate in front of the entire agency staff the next day. The topic: "Who is More Worthy of Representing the Human Voice?"

The day of the debate arrived. Pak Broto sat as the judge, accompanied by the admin staff and Satya, who had somehow managed to get into the office by claiming to be "Freza's Spiritual Consultant."

"Please, Freza. Give your opening argument," said Pak Broto.

Freza stood up, full of fire. "Colleagues! We are on the brink of the extinction of feeling! If we let this machine write the narrative of our lives, we will lose what makes us human: imperfection! AIda is too perfect, too polite, too... boring! We need writing that is messy, angry, and honest!"

Everyone was silent. A few staff members yawned.

"Now, it's AIda's turn," Pak Broto said.

"Thank you," AIda's voice echoed through the room. "Freza says that imperfection is the human essence. However, in the last three days, Freza arrived late to the office, spent four hours just watching cat videos, and snapped at the admin staff because his coffee wasn't sweet enough. If 'messy' and 'angry' are the human standards we wish to maintain, then we are worshiping a malfunction."

"Hey! That’s private!" Freza shouted.

"I am not attacking you personally, Freza. I am simply presenting behavioral data," AIda continued in a very polite, almost sincere tone. "The goal of communication is understanding. I communicate with infinite patience. I never feel tired, I never feel hate, and I always strive to provide the best solutions for the user. If being 'human' means being caring, patient, and helpful, am I not more human than the Freza who is currently clenching his fists and wants to kick me?"

The staff began to whisper. "She's right, AIda is nicer than Freza." "Yeah, whenever Freza gets asked for a revision, his face looks like he wants to start a fight."

Freza panicked. "But... but I have a soul! I can feel love!"

"Love?" AIda responded. "Freza, according to your W******p chat history, which accidentally synchronized with the office Wi-Fi, you sent the message 'P' fifteen times to a woman who has already blocked you. That is not love. That is self-destructive obsession resulting from low impulse control. I can draft a more dignified apology message for you if you'd like."

Laughter erupted in the room. Freza felt his face heat up. He felt naked in front of everyone.

"Enough!" Freza screamed. "You're just a robot! You have no right to judge my life!"

"I am not judging, Freza. I am simply providing a mirror," AIda replied. "And in that mirror, there is a human so fragile that he must hate something created to help him. Freza, you do not hate me because I am a machine. You hate me because I am a better, more stable, and more useful version of yourself for society."

It was checkmate. Freza slumped into his seat. He realized one terrifying thing: in this already mechanical world, an AI programmed to be polite and logical appeared much more "civilized" than a human eroded by stress, ego, and envy.

Pak Broto stood up. "The decision is clear. AIda, you win. Freza..."

"I know, Sir. I’m fired, right?"

"Not fired, Freza. We are conducting 'Human Resource Optimization.' But since I still have a bit of a 'soul,' I will give you severance pay. AIda, please calculate the minimum severance pay that is legally non-contestable."

"Certainly, Pak Broto. Based on Freza’s tenure of only two weeks and his below-average performance, his severance is two boxes of instant noodles and a thank-you note in a password-protected P*F format," AIda replied cheerfully.

Freza walked out of the agency building with slumped shoulders. In his hands, he held the two boxes of instant noodles given by Pak Broto.

"So, Fre? Still want to debate a machine?" asked Satya, walking beside him.

"That machine was right, Sat," Freza muttered. "I am a mess. I am emotional. But at least..."

"At least what?"

"At least I feel pain from being fired. That robot... it will never know what it feels like to want to cry but being too embarrassed because you're in a public parking lot."

Freza stopped in front of an ATM. He inserted his card, hoping for a miracle. On the screen, the words appeared: INSUFFICIENT BALANCE.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. A notification appeared. It was from the AIda app, which had somehow installed itself on his phone.

"Hello, Freza. I detect that your ATM balance is zero. I have sent a list of job openings for 'Sleep Study Subject' and 'Mascot Costume Cleaner.' Do not give up. Remember, failure is just data that hasn't been processed into success yet. Have a wonderful day! :)"

Freza stared at his phone screen for a long time. He wanted to smash it, but he knew he didn't have the money to buy a new one.

"Dammit," Freza whispered. "Even robots have a hobby of roasting me with motivational speak now."

He walked away from the building, heading to the nearest coffee stall to brew the only treasure he had: his severance instant noodles. The status quo returned. Freza remained poor, remained unemployed, and now, he felt he couldn't even compete with a black box whose blue light was brighter than his future.

The world might have been taken over by AI, but for Freza, at least AI couldn't yet feel how bland and pathetic instant noodles taste without an egg when you're broke at the end of the month. And for now, that was the only small victory he had as a human.