In the market, An Bao suddenly heard everyone's inner thoughts—the vendors' calculations, the passersby's complaints, as clear as whispers. Even more terrifying, when he subconsciously responded in his mind, the other person actually spoke back to him.
He discovered with horror that he had become a two-way broadcasting tower.
The only person who couldn't hear him was his mother beside him. Her inner thoughts resonated with gentle static, as if they had been filtered.
When the countless voices converged into a piercing buzz, he roared in his mind: "Shut up!"
Instantly, everyone within five meters around him froze for two seconds, then continued as if nothing had happened—the "Trial Protocol" of his new cerebral cortex had automatically activated.
An Bao understood: the trial had never paused. This month of "daily life" was merely an expanded examination hall. The Emotion Regulator aunt was in the corner, silently reciting monitoring reports in her mind.
The sunlight was dazzling, yet his entire body felt icy cold.