I don't know what you've heard about me, but it's all garbage. I'm not the real Hazama. People that knew me before can't tell the difference, but there's more to the story. Hazama died in the hospital, everyone can agree on that. But he was never brought back to life and turned into a robot. The real Hazama is gone. What was left were memories, personality traits, and manners of speech—that kind of thing. That's what they put into the 8-Man. Did you really think they could download a human being into a mass of computer chips? I asked the professor about it once. Apparently human beings are not merely advanced biological machines, there is an element of spirit to them. So as the 8-Man, I am only a copy of the real thing. Sure, you can take a person and add cybernetic components, and it would still be somewhat human. But there's no way you're ever going to get a real human into a robot body, just a robot who thinks he's a man. All this thinking made me contemplate my existence, as you can imagine. The professor put a patch in my system which will finally allow me to get drunk, it doesn't feel exactly like the real thing, but it's close enough. Sam's all grown up now, he's out on his own and no longer needs me. The professor mentioned getting some of Hazama's DNA and creating a child with Sachiko at one point. You know, she's thirty-seven years old. I can't believe that ambitious young girl who had the world by the tail has grown up to become my secretary. She says it makes her happy, but she could do so much more. It's not just that, she needs someone in her life. Someone other than a robot that is. I can't even guess at how much she's struggled with all this. Hazama, this drink's for you, private eye. Even though I'm just like you, I would have liked to have met the real thing. I've lived long enough to know that you'll never clean up this planet. Even if the 8-Man were to lock up every criminal, more would rise up to take their place in no time. It's futile. Hazama never had to worry about that kind of thing because he had to make a living and survive. But as the greatest technological marvel of a generation, without the need to eat or sleep, I have nothing better to do. All this feeling sorry for myself isn't doing anyone any good, that's what Hazama would say, but at least now you know the truth about 8-Man, and the world. There's no sense regretting it. Besides, it's not my call is it? If I'm short on bedside manner it's because Hazama was never a very sympathetic guy to begin with, and what else would you expect from a machine like me? At least I can buy you a drink for your time. Do you think we could do this. . . again?