The two passed through several silent corridors, arriving at a more concealed room. It was unusually empty, with only a solitary white platform at the center.
On the platform rested a specially designed transparent nutrient tank. Inside, immersed, was a faintly pulsating brain connected to countless delicate wires and tubes.
Dr. 077 input a series of commands on the control console. Above the nutrient tank, the holographic projection of a frail old man slowly coalesced into form.
The projection, upon seeing Dr. 077, instantly became distorted and frenzied, madly lunging forward, only to futilely pass through Dr. 077's body, emitting a silent roar.
"077! You bastard! Thief! How dare you imprison me in this cold cyber cage! How dare you!"
Dr. 062's projection roared, his voice carrying the sharp, distorted quality of electronic synthesis.
"Calm yourself, Dr. 062," Dr. 077's tone was calm to the point of cruelty, cutting straight to the point. "I have seen C-136 and C-137."
Dr. 062's fury abruptly ceased. The projection froze for a moment, then adopted an expression as if he had just remembered something:
"Oh... You mean those two failures? Tsk tsk, they're really tenacious. Who would have thought they haven't self-destructed after all these years?"
"More than just not dead."
Dr. 077 stated methodically, his gaze fixed intently on the projection.
"They are living quite well and have, twice, escaped from my meticulously arranged pursuits, causing me to lose many precious mechanical units."
"Ha! Then you truly are useless!" Dr. 062's projection emitted a piercing, mocking laugh.
"Doctor!" Number 32, standing nearby, showed anger on his face and took a step forward.
Dr. 077 raised his hand to stop him, his gaze still locked on 062:
"Dr. 062, you are indeed concealing something. Setting aside C-137's biological symbiotic traits, which far exceed the records, what happened with C-136—that utterly unreasonable, scientifically inexplicable event, the'spontaneous' revival of that heart—what power is that?"
"I have no idea what nonsense you're spouting!"
Dr. 062's projection flickered slightly, his tone forceful, but subtle fluctuations betrayed unease.
"Truly worthy of being one of the top researchers in the fields of flesh evolution and gene chimerism back in the day."
Dr. 077's tone carried a hint of icy admiration.
"Even reduced to just a brain, you still managed to evade my previous deep memory scans. However, this time, you won't be able to hide it."
He looked at Number 32 and nodded.
Number 32, who had long been unable to hold back, immediately produced a peculiarly shaped, precise instrument flashing with dangerous red light. With a force akin to venting anger, he precisely inserted it into a core interface connecting the nutrient tank to the brain.
"What are you doing?! 077! My serial number precedes yours! This is overstepping authority! Betrayal!"
Dr. 062's projection shook violently, his voice filled with genuine panic.
"Stop! You don't understand! You have no idea what force you're attempting to pry into! It will bring destruction!"
"In fact, I can do this," Dr. 077's voice was icy and absolute. "Serial numbers are meaningless in the face of results. Number 32, proceed!"
"Yes, Doctor!"
Number 32 forcefully pressed the activation button on the instrument.
Blinding light instantly enveloped the brain in the nutrient tank. Dr. 062's projection, with an extremely fearful and agonized shriek, completely distorted and disintegrated... The cold hum of the instrument gradually subsided. Dr. 077 and Number 32's gazes were fixed on the memory fragments forcibly extracted, parsed, and played back on the light screen.
These were Dr. 062's deeply hidden core secrets, accompanied by his intense, ultimately futile emotional resistance, slowly unfolding like a faded film reel, complete with static and cracks.
The image shook—it was Dr. 062's subjective perspective.
Under the shadowless lamp, on the cold metal dissection table, lay the young Victor Black—Test Subject C-136.
His body was covered in horrific wounds. The vital signs monitor displayed a glaring flatline, alarms blaring incessantly.
"Log: C-136, thirty-seventh extreme tolerance test failed. Vital signs absent for over one hundred eighty seconds. Death confirmed."
Dr. 062's calm voice recorded the event, carrying a hint of regret, perhaps also impatience over the loss of experimental material.
However, in the few seconds after he turned to signal his assistant to dispose of the "waste," the monitor's death line abruptly, without warning, jumped!
Then a second time, a third... weak, yet tenacious to a chilling degree.
The viewpoint abruptly zoomed in, focusing on Victor's pale young face.
Those eyes, which should have lost all luster, fluttered their lashes and slowly opened a slit. Deep within the pupils was a blankness, yet also a certain... incomprehensible vitality.
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