Chapter 57 Dialectical Game (2) Death Record
The meticulous scientific description records a rather fantasy diagnosis, but it is strangely consistent with the real situation and consistent with common sense in cognition.
Chisi continued to look through the remaining paper records with interest.
Dozens of them are test report sheets, with various scientific terms written on them that Ziss cannot understand. After the test data, up and down arrows are drawn - the patient's physical condition is not optimistic.
In addition, there are several ultrasound images in black, white and gray, with various symbols written in scrawled writing. Chiss pretended to look at it for two seconds before giving up on understanding it.
The inspection report is arranged in chronological order, maintaining the frequency of one inspection every three days and one inspection every seven days. The last date is [January 1, 2038].
This copy was undoubtedly generated based on reality, but the time was pushed back three years.
Ziss is not surprised. After all, the "Carnivore" copy has proven that reality and the game are somehow connected, and the timeline can be reversed, stretched, and confused.
He was not offended by the fact that the copy included his true information. Instead, he found it quite interesting.
He always maintains just the right amount of alienation from the identity of "Zis" constructed in human society, just like controlling the character from a third-person perspective when playing a 3D game.
Although I have become accustomed to the configuration of the initial account, if I reopen a small account and change the name and appearance, apart from being uncomfortable in the first few days, there will be no unnecessary sadness.
At this moment, he removed himself from the situation and analyzed it calmly from the perspective of a bystander.
"From the existing clues, 'Zis' should have died of the disease three years ago, but was left alive in a vegetative state by an unknown person in what form."
"Would someone actually burn three years of money on me? What a wonderful setting. Could it be that before I died, I told someone that I would put a huge inheritance somewhere, and then I only told half of it on purpose?"
“Or is there the influence of a weird game, or is it just a private design that makes the copy illogical?”
Qisi picked up the last piece of paper and scanned the text on it:
[Clone No. 9’s vital signs are normal, conditioned reflex, brain wave response and other data are consistent with the parent body, intelligence level, thinking Dimensional data such as methods and behavioral choices need to be measured. 】
【No soul fluctuation has been detected yet, but combined with relevant data, it cannot be immediately determined that the cultivation failed. It is recommended to observe it for three days before deciding whether to destroy it. 】
Qisi put down the page and looked down at his right cuff, where the word "9" was written in red pen.
He turned his head and looked back. The number "9" on the surface of the huge glass jar behind him was bright and dazzling.
"So, I am not 'Zis', I am just a clone numbered '9'. The meaning of existence is to cultivate the soul of 'Zis'?"
Zis chuckled: " This design... is really full of malice.”
He put the paper back in place, stepped on the cold tiles with his bare feet, stood up and walked towards the thing on the right wall that was covered by a black canvas. .
He opened the canvas, revealing a row of bottles and cans underneath.
Huge glass jars with a diameter of one meter are placed closely together and arranged neatly, with the numbered side facing outward, and the numbers "1" to "8" are written in red pen in sequence.
These jars are all empty, with more or less a piece of the liquid inside missing. It is conceivable that something was soaked in it before, but later those things were fished out and never put back.
Combining the previously discovered clues, Ziss can determine that the ones originally contained in these jars were all "clones" like him. They were his eight predecessors who were destroyed due to "failure to cultivate" .
There was a sudden "click" sound behind my ears as a key was inserted into the keyhole, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning.
Qisi reacted very quickly. He turned over and threw himself on the operating table. He smoothly turned off the lights and lay down with his eyes closed, pretending to be dead.
“Squeak——”
The iron door of the room was pushed open, and messy footsteps filed in, forming a circle around the bed.
Because Qisi had his eyes closed, it was difficult to estimate how many people had come in. He only knew that there must be a lot of people, and there was a high probability that he would not be able to escape.
"It seems that No. 9 woke up early." A deep male voice came from the door, "He consciously explores the surrounding environment and can choose the best plan in an emergency. He is better than the previous ones. Close to the mother body.”
The sound of the pen tip rubbing against the page sounded, as if someone was recording.
Chiss remembered that his body was covered with mucus such as nutrient solution, leaving footprints when he walked around. It was reasonable for him to be seen through.
He simply opened his eyes and sat up, and said hello with a smile: "Hello everyone, I wonder what time it is now?"
No one answered him, but one person's eyes twitched after making eye contact with him. After a moment, I seemed to see something ugly. "Am I disfigured? Or... am I some kind of strange being in the eyes of these people?" Qiss guessed, pursed his lips and kept quiet, conveying a cooperative attitude.
There were nine doctors in white coats standing in the room. Looking at their sturdy physiques, they could pin Qiss to the ground and beat him with one hand.
Two young doctors quickly stepped forward, took out handcuffs from their large pockets, and cuffed Qisi's hands behind his back.
This set of moves is extremely skillful and seems to have been performed many times. Judging from the plot, it must have been practiced on the eight unlucky seniors before.
Qiss remained motionless and allowed these people to transfer him to the wheelchair and fix it with a restraint belt. At the same time, he moved his eyes without leaving a trace and scanned every face.
Through the masks, I can’t see clearly the specific faces of these people, but I can still tell some information just by looking at their eyebrows.
For example, their expressions were a bit too cold. They looked less like doctors who were saving lives and more like researchers who were playing with mice.
People in white coats came forward one after another. Some used blood collection needles to collect blood, some used thermometer guns to measure temperature, and some measured blood pressure and heart rate. There are many steps, but they are methodical.
Data was reported one by one, and someone took a pen to record it skillfully.
He who knows the current affairs is a hero. Zeiss remained motionless and allowed the men in white coats to fiddle with him.
When they were almost busy, they tentatively asked: "Guys, can you tell me where this is?"
No one responded, and no one even gave him an extra look. .
Qisi felt bored and once again felt the malice of this copy.
His best methods are all based on words, but these people refused to communicate with him, and they simply had no martial ethics...
The people in white coats finally finished what they were doing, pushing the tied Qisi The wheelchair left the room.
Outside the room is a long and narrow corridor, extending to both sides with no end in sight. Department doors are embedded in the wall like tombstones, leaving only a faint crack.
The light tube above the head sheds white light, and the metallic white walls reflect the light, squeezing the shadows that should exist into the gaps, and projecting a light gray shadow like fly wings.
This place is said to be a hospital, but more like a research institute, the kind that conducts crazy experiments.
The people in white coats, or researchers, flattened the wheelchair and fixed it. Only then did Zeiss realize that the wheelchair turned out to be a folded hospital bed. It was only not unfolded to accommodate the narrowness of the previous room.
The hospital bed was pushed forward quickly, and the body swayed with the bumps, and then was pulled back to its original position by the restraint belt.
Chiss could not move, so he could only lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, counting the devices embedded in it.
Square lights, square lights, vents, square lights, round lights...
The hospital bed stopped, and the researcher next to him reported in a smooth tone that reported good news but not bad news: "Dean , No. 9 is emotionally stable and has not shown aggression for the time being. His speech and behavior are more human-like. I think we are not far from success.”
"But he still has no soul." A young voice sighed, "Don't take it lightly. I know him. He is very good at pretending to be harmless and then delivering a fatal blow from behind."
< br>...Don't tell me, you do know me very well.
Qisi felt that the man's voice sounded familiar, and the conclusion was ready to come out, which made him suspect that it was a scam.
He struggled, adjusting the angle of his neck, trying to look in the direction of the sound.
"There are still three days of observation period, and this time it may not fail. All aspects of his data are consistent with the mother body, if it is not without a soul..."
A young voice interrupted: "But as long as he has no soul, he is nothing."
After struggling for a while, Qis finally raised his head.
After seeing the appearance of the so-called "Dean", he couldn't hold back and laughed out loud.
He was out of breath from laughing and started coughing crazily.
After a long while, he coughed out a few words as if coughing up blood: "It's been a long time... I haven't seen you..."
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(End of this chapter)