Chapter Three: Cyberpsychosis and the Water Seal Plug

Mariko would die here.

Cyberpsychosis is not an irreversible terminal illness. In its early and middle stages, it can be suppressed and slowed with chemical drugs. Even in the late stage, one may still hope to pull everything back at great cost, either through a "mind adjustment" surgery or by enlisting a high-ranking psychokinetic practitioner of the Consensus path.

And yet, even twenty years from now, Song Shi had never heard of any drug on the market that could cure the late stage of cyberpsychosis. The contract Song Shi had signed only stated that they would be turned into "cyberpsychotics"; it did not specify which stage.

But based on Song Shi's understanding of the company, that was enough for him to draw his conclusion.

If it was not mentioned, then it was as good as confirmed. This institute was even more arrogant than he had expected, daring to challenge the late stage of cyberpsychosis.

Of course, even if all of this were nothing more than Song Shi's malicious conjecture, what kind of exquisite, miraculous creation is the human mind?

Song Shi did not believe that in a city this unremarkable, in an institute this unremarkable, they could precisely control the degree of cyberpsychosis conversion.

He did not want to take even the slightest risk.

So, he had to leave.

And Mariko—

In theory, according to the load of every muscle fiber in the human body, the strength limit of a natural human is four thousand five hundred kilograms. But because of flesh, pain, and self-awareness, no one had ever truly achieved it; even one-tenth of that figure was enough to be called a rare and mighty strongman.

The same held true for the unnatural with implanted prosthetics.

The arm prosthesis "Thunder Fist Firelight," produced by South Domain Heavy Industries, was said to be capable of delivering blows weighing several tons. But most of the time, once it reached half a ton, the tremendous strain it imposed would already trigger the pain threshold, knocking a person unconscious or forcing an emergency shutdown of the prosthetic arm.

But for a cyberpsychotic, such things were no concern at all.

Madmen do not reason with you. They do not discuss theory, or whether a punch will hurt, or whether it will tear their synthetic skin apart and spray artificial blood everywhere. Even if it greatly damages the prosthetic's durability and harms their own body.

That was one of the reasons that once cyberpsychosis broke out, patients often turned the street into a scene from an adult film.

But right now, Song Shi needed exactly that.

Through the physical link of the data cable just now, the lead-wire program had already been implanted into Mariko's body. With a single preset command, the prosthetics of both sides could be unlocked instantly.

Once they entered the laboratory and the medical experiment officially began, an unrestrained cyberpsychotic—even if Mariko only had civilian-grade engineering prosthetics—would be enough to stir up chaos.

That would be his chance to escape.

"Why did you stop talking?"

Mariko frowned.

He suddenly realized that, at a time like this, the other man actually seemed a little distracted.

"I was thinking about something, and there isn't much to say, is there?"

Song Shi looked at him, paused for a moment, and suddenly spoke.

"No... actually, there is something I should say."

"Hm?"

Mariko was somewhat puzzled, because when the other man said that, the youth who looked scarcely more than grown had suddenly turned solemn.

Even when the two of them had just signed the contract, he had not seemed this serious.

Mariko thought this to himself, though he did not show it on his face.

"Go on. What is it?"

"I will make sure your daughter is taken care of." Song Shi paused for an instant, then said gravely, "This is my promise."

At that, Mariko fell silent. Slowly, his expression became strange.

"What are you talking about? What were you thinking just now, some kind of superhero show?"

Mariko's tone turned odd. "And saying something like that... heh, who knows which of us will even survive. Maybe I'd be better suited to that damned drug."

"Honestly, if I heard what you just said on the street, I'd have taken you for one of those pitiful types obsessed with virtual roleplay, someone so immersed in a game or whatever else that they can no longer tell reality from fantasy."

"Damn it, a promise... what a disgusting word."

But soon, looking around at the place and at himself, Mariko shook his head again. "Forget it. I'm not qualified to say that about them either."

"In any case..."

The door suddenly opened.

And even before it did, the guard's loud voice had already burst through.

"Ho-ho! Gentlemen! Time to hit the road!"

Looking at the two men inside, the burly guard clapped the stun gun in his hand, forcing out an ugly smile across the face scored with etched circuitry.

"The equipment's all set. I'm taking you to change clothes now, then we'll head to the lab."

Song Shi and Mariko stood up together and followed behind the giant.

This third Palos Institute of Mind and Psychology was not very large.

In the memories of the orphanage's Song Shi, seen from the outside, the institute occupied more than ten acres and sat in Palos's urban district, the Rotta District, locally known as the New Industrial District.

There was not much information about this institute online, and it had little reputation in Palos. If the credentials the other side had shown had not indeed proven that it belonged to Emerald Pharmaceuticals, the Song Shi from the orphanage would never have dared to come.

After all, a healthy adult male's organs were not cheap. Every morning in the Deep Moss District, people saw emptied, abandoned corpses in dark alleys.

Along the way, Song Shi memorized the simplified map of the building posted on the walls at each corner while studying the burly man ahead.

The man's left arm was the size of a normal person's, but his right arm was noticeably larger, not even concealed by synthetic skin. The surface of the black-gray metal frame gleamed, and the carbon muscle fibers wrapped within could be seen faintly.

With normal exertion, he could probably twist a section of reinforcing bar into a bow.

As for his weapon, the stun gun cradled in his arms was likely a civilian model; judging by the size of the power module, its output would not be very high. But at his waist, in the holster, was a gleaming handgun, most likely a live-fire weapon meant to serve as the "final warning."

A third-rate level.

After observing for a while, Song Shi silently reached his judgment.

That level of combat power, on those middle- and high-intensity battlefields, would probably be only a little better than a hastily inserted tactical memory chip and a rush-trained cannon fodder soldier. If the security forces of this institute were all at this level, then his escape would be somewhat easier than expected.

Soon, the burly man stopped walking.

The corridor lights remained a sickly white.

The burly man took out his employee badge and scanned it, and the automatic door beside him opened to both sides.

Entering the room, Song Shi saw two sets of loose white garments sealed in disposable plastic bags on the table ahead. On the other side were shower stalls separated by partitions, each only large enough to hold one person.

"You've got three minutes."

The burly man yawned.

"Remember to wash yourselves properly. Once you're done, put on these hospital gowns and we'll head to the lab. Don't even think about stalling. I don't want to have to drag you out myself. I'm not interested in seeing a man's naked backside."

Inside the shower stall, Song Shi stripped off his clothes neatly and turned the water temperature all the way down, letting the cold water pour over him.

"Ha..."

One minute and thirty seconds.

He could not tell whether it was the cold air or his own breath, but white vapor rose in the cramped space. Song Shi drew in a deep breath, then slowly opened his eyes.

Through the wall mirror, this was the first time he had clearly seen what he looked like now.

Short black hair, a lean build, and a face more striking than most.

"...Why does he look exactly like me?"

At that moment, Song Shi was somewhat startled to discover that this body's face was nearly identical to his own from his previous life, differing only in a few subtle details.

But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. For now, he had to get out of here as fast as possible; everything else could be considered later.

He tore open the plastic bag, changed into the plain white hospital gown, then swept his gaze through the shower stall and finally fixed it on the washbasin.

More precisely, on the drain stopper at the bottom of the basin.

Without hesitation, Song Shi pulled it out.

It was a standard stopper, cylindrical, made of some kind of composite copper alloy, with a raised ring around the edge. It felt faintly sharp and prickling to the touch.

Looks like I'm in luck.

Song Shi pinched the stopper and slowly dragged it across his chest, feeling that cold touch, and murmured, "As I thought, compared with my fingers..."

"When it's time to carve open my heart, this will be much more convenient."