Chapter Four: One-Minute Speedrun [Psychic Abilities]

“There you go, two ‘volunteers,’ all clean and right here.”

At the end of the corridor, beside a wide-open transparent glass door, a burly man was conversing with someone.

Opposite him stood a woman in a white lab coat. She appeared to be in her early twenties, strikingly beautiful, with short brown hair. It seemed she had acquired some advanced synthetic artificial skin; aside from a faint golden ring encircling her neck, she looked indistinguishable from a natural human.

But that was impossible.

“Artificial glands” could release synthetic hormones including stimulants to enhance focus during work; “optical prosthetic eyes” offered vision accuracy over ten times that of a normal person, dynamic vision enhancement, thermal imaging, network programming capability, even laser beams shooting from the eyes.

An “alloy skeleton” significantly increased bodily strength and served as a cornerstone to bear the load of other implants, since some implants required prerequisites and could not be directly installed.

“Prosthetic arms” provided far more than strength enhancement—they had data interfaces, integrated tools, heightened sensitivity. Doctors needed only to replace the arm once to gain hands capable of surgical precision equivalent to over a decade of training. Customized prosthetic arms for cybersecurity consultants greatly boosted efficiency in information warfare.

In short,

a “natural human” without implants was hardly employable, even for menial labor in factories. After all, even at docks for unloading cargo, strength mattered—a boss knew to pick someone who could do ten times the work over another.

“Vidani! I promise you’ll like these! Full of energy!”

The burly man laughed heartily, speaking with some eagerness. “If you ask me...”

“Hmm.”

The woman addressed as Vidani stepped forward.

She slowly scrutinized the two individuals trailing behind the man.

Song Shi clicked his tongue inwardly.

The way she looked at him was not like a person looking at another person—it was more like staring at a frog sprawled on an operating table, already anesthetized.

The gaze sweeping over Song Shi’s body from head to toe felt like a cold surgical knife plotting its incision.

After about a minute, Vidani finally lifted her head and nodded slightly.

She pushed open the glass door, motioning for them to follow.

Beyond the door lay a fairly large laboratory, filled with the pungent scent of disinfectant. Various complex devices were scattered around, though it was clear the space was used for medical research.

There weren’t many people inside.

Including Vidani, there were only five individuals present, all researchers clad in white lab coats.

Perhaps due to “rebirth,” even though Song Shi had yet to awaken his psychic abilities, his five senses were somewhat sharper than those of ordinary people.

So, as he followed Vidani into the lab, he faintly sensed the emotions embedded in the gazes cast from afar: pity, indifference, resignation...

“Hmm... implant psychosis.”

Vidani suddenly stopped and turned around.

Seeing this, the burly man tactfully put away his stun gun and stepped aside.

This woman was the favorite student of the institute’s director, Keng, and they shared similar temperaments—both hated interruptions during research and detested unnecessary chatter. As an ordinary armed security guard, he had no desire to anger her without cause.

“My colleagues have already given you the relevant introduction; I won’t repeat it.”

“From a theoretical standpoint, ‘implant psychosis’ arises from a collapse of the mind, or a mental breakdown. As for the definitions of ‘mind’ and ‘psyche,’ academia has yet to reach a consensus.”

“Some believe ‘mind’ and ‘psyche’ are synonymous, while others argue they merely overlap partially, that ‘psyche’ is just the external manifestation of the ‘mind.’”

Vidani paused.

“Personally, I side with the latter theory.”

Well, you do have some depth, Song Shi thought.

In fact, even two decades later, no definition of “mind” and “psyche” could convince everyone. But as a fourth-tier psychic on the Consensus path, Song Shi certainly agreed with the second theory.

A high-tier psychic could alter someone’s memories with a single thought or flood their mind with overwhelming negative emotions and malicious memory fragments to crush them.

In such cases, the victim often broke down completely—crying uncontrollably, despairing utterly, sometimes even taking their own life. Their mental state could hardly deteriorate further; yet, even then, it didn’t necessarily trigger “cyber-psychosis.”

Though the odds were indeed quite high.

Of course, as a psychic on the Great Origin path, Song Shi would incinerate anyone attempting to tamper with memories within a hundred-meter radius using psychic flames before they could act.

But ultimately, since he wasn’t a researcher buried in theory all day, distinctions between “mind” and “psyche” didn’t matter much to him.

“This is the drug you’ll be using—a synthetic targeted enzyme acting on neural circuits.”

Vidani approached a table and pointed at a white cubic refrigeration unit. Through a transparent window, one could see a row of glass vials with hastily scribbled labels.

At that moment, a male researcher approached, holding two unmarked chips.

“After you board the machine, insert this chip into the interface behind your ear,” the researcher said coldly.

Seeing the two hesitate, he reluctantly added, “Preoperative maintenance consists of two parts: first, inserting this memory chip; second, boarding this device.”

He did not explain what memories the chip stored, nor did he clarify the function of the nearby machine resembling a hospital CT scanner.

But Song Shi and Mariko understood perfectly.

This was the very device that would transform them into “cyber-psychotics.”

“There’s only one machine. Who’s going first?”

The researcher’s gaze flickered between Song Shi and Mariko. Seeing no movement, he frowned.

“You should feel honored. This ‘Third Map Mind Adjustment Instrument’ produced by Emerald Pharmaceuticals retails for 7.4 million credit points. Even through internal channels, it costs no less than five million—you could never hope to afford it in your lifetime, yet now you stand here, basking in the glory of this technology.”

“Moreover, you will soon contribute to the great cause of medicine, granting your previously miserable lives true noble value. And yet you hesitate? You waver at such a moment?”

No wonder these two could only end up here; it was all their own fault.

Recalling the volunteer files he had reviewed earlier, the male researcher shook his head, confirming his judgment.

But he kept these words to himself—he had no patience for dull, stubborn fools.

“Well then, you go first...” He looked at Song Shi.

“I will,” Mariko interrupted, taking a deep breath.

His face twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just closed and reopened his eyes, then suddenly stepped forward.

“Damn it! Better to get it over with and suffer less! I’ll go first!” Mariko snatched the chip, tense. “Let’s just get on with it. I hope this damn drug actually works.”

The researcher’s expression soured. He snorted meaninglessly and waved his hand.

Several other lab-coated staff approached immediately, helping Mariko lie down on the “Third Map Mind Adjustment Instrument,” securing his hands and legs with two straps. Although the implants had been locked beforehand, precautions were necessary to prevent excessive movement.

The burly man who hadn’t left yet was prepared to use his stun gun if Mariko struggled too violently.

Mariko lay on the platform, a helmet-like device hung down, covering his head, connected to over a dozen wires and tubes.

All the surrounding light faded into darkness.

The world suddenly fell silent.

The acrid smell of disinfectant, the fluctuating stock market graphs, the complex emotions within his heart—all abruptly vanished.

In a daze, Mariko could only hear his own increasingly rapid breath.

[Memory chip ■■ inserted]

[Beginning internal memory read—]

[Mind adjustment commencing—]

In the next instant,

the man plummeted into an abyss.

...

“I... I want to use the restroom.”

At these trembling words, the male researcher, who had been focused on a data tablet, turned his head.

He looked toward the voice’s source.

One of the two “volunteers” in the current experiment—the young man who had seemed relatively calm—now appeared noticeably pale. Thanks to the prosthetic eye’s enhancement, the researcher could clearly see sweat beads forming on his forehead and his hands trembling involuntarily.

His gaze was fixed tightly on the “Third Map Mind Adjustment Instrument” not far away.

It was now the third minute since the volunteer named Mariko entered the adjustment machine.

One could see his exposed lower body trembling violently, as if bearing some unbearable burden. At the same time, a stifled roar resembling a beast’s howl suddenly burst from his mouth, echoing throughout the laboratory.

The researcher’s expression darkened as he coldly said,

“At a time like this, you—”

“Let him go.”

From behind a display showing complex data charts, Vidani raised her head.

The oppressive roar surrounding her failed to cause even the slightest ripple. Her expression was indifferent as she calmly stated, “—Let him go. I do not want to see excrement on the experiment floor later.”

The researcher’s voice abruptly stopped. His complexion shifted. He seemed about to protest but swallowed his words.

Nearby, the burly man couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Brolic, take him to the restroom. Be back in ten minutes.”

Vidani glanced at the burly man before lowering her head again, focusing on the display.

“No problem, no problem. Mission accepted—”

The burly man shrugged, picking up his stun gun and gesturing for Song Shi to follow.

When Song Shi stood, still trembling with fear, he nearly stumbled, which only deepened the researcher’s contemptuous gaze.

...

As they stepped out of the laboratory and rounded the corridor corner, Song Shi suddenly felt a heavy weight on his shoulder.

A cold metallic arm pressed down on him.

The burly man, one hand holding the stun gun, had his other arm around Song Shi’s neck, as if they were close friends.

But the voice whispered into Song Shi’s ear, filled with unmistakable impatience.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, little bastard.”

Because of their size difference, the burly man’s slight movement felt as if Song Shi might be crushed.

“I’ve seen plenty like you,” he sneered, locking eyes with Song Shi, lowering his voice. “Only thinking of regrets at the last minute? Ha, money doesn’t grow on trees. If you’re so scared of dying, you should be selling yourself on Cindy Street, not here.”

“I—I’m not—”

Song Shi curled up, clearly terrified.

“Let me remind you, the restroom windows are sealed. So you better just do your business or at least drain yourself, but don’t cause me trouble. I don’t want to waste time blasting a shot at your downstairs ‘equipment.’”

“—Don’t give me trouble.”

The burly man stared so intently at Song Shi that he was almost face to face.

After saying this, he withdrew his right hand, slapped Song Shi’s back hard, and shoved him forward toward the restroom.

“Little bastard, get moving.”

The youth shivered, instinctively glancing back.

The burly man swayed slightly, holding his stun gun, then smiled lewdly and whistled.

So, the youth fled into the restroom.

Then, the moment Song Shi closed the door behind him in the stall,

his expression changed instantly. The earlier fear vanished, and his trembling hands clenched, then relaxed.

He raised his right hand, fingers together, and traced across his chest,

finally resting over his heart.

Throughout long histories, there have been countless ways to awaken psychic powers: a master’s enlightenment, sudden insight, surviving lightning strikes, disciplined meditation, rare psychic artifacts forcibly activating latent powers...

The most common method was “extreme stimulation.”

For instance, nearing death with severe injuries, heart-flashing memories, utter despair believing the world had abandoned oneself, facing relentless blows leading to depression and suicidal thoughts—though most either died or nothing happened.

Yet a rare few were fortunate enough to awaken their psychic abilities through such ordeals.

—It was said the earliest psychics all awakened this way.

Extreme stimulation.

Given the current situation, what could surpass a jolt to the heart?

Since there was no time for other methods, he would take the most traditional path.

In the next moment, Song Shi clenched the copper plug he had taken earlier and, without hesitation, cut open just below his heart!

One man, Mariko, causing chaos was insufficient to guarantee escape; he needed a greater leverage—his own power.

Not enough prosthetics, then psychic power would fill the gap.

Next.

One minute, to master psychic power!