Cyber ​​Ghost Record

Chapter 101: Leak
Click.

The medicine box popped open, and a pill accurately darted between Suger's fingers, which he caught between the second joints of his index and middle fingers.

The movement was exceptionally precise, almost like the interlocking of gears.

He bit the filter tip and looked down to turn the aluminum box in his hand over.

The back of the aluminum box was sprayed with messy geometric patterns and a striking red and yellow color scheme. The box was divided into two layers: the outer layer contained the dopamine receptor blocker that had already given him a slight dependence, while the inner layer contained the new drug that Ruan Qiuheng had given him this time.

Current research suggests that the main cause of levitation is that exogenous neural data stimulates the brain to produce abnormal neural circuits.

Su Ge glanced back at the closed back door of the illegal clinic, recalling the doctor's instructions when Ruan Qiuheng gave him the new medicine.

“To control your condition, you can no longer receive external neural data.” Her blue compound eyes were as cold as an insect’s. “I won’t try to persuade you.”

She opened the pillbox, revealing the inner layer of medication—one half containing a low-concentration inhaled formulation with a purplish-red filter, like venous blood. The other half contained high-concentration pink tablets, covered in bright red spots.

"It can inhibit the generation of new neural circuits in your brain, so it can prevent your condition from worsening. The only thing to be careful about is to prepare for brain-computer interface implantation before your biological brain completely atrophies and becomes disabled."

Suger looked away and rubbed the lighter in the medicine box with his thumb.

As prescribed by the doctor, this low-concentration dose of the new drug was to allow his body to get used to this unfamiliar ingredient.

He accepted this treatment, which was certainly a case of drinking poison to quench thirst.

Which is more serious: severe photophobia or brain atrophy?
Who knows, he thought.

He lit a cigarette, and wisps of smoke rose, outlining countless ambiguous shapes in the dim light.

His phagocytic disorder was getting worse; these outlines were easily rendered into bizarre and fantastical illusions by his brain, and he was already aware of it. He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the outside of those shady clinics. Compared to usual, there were fewer patients waiting for treatment here.

"I heard that there have been free medications being distributed recently."

"That's what Socrates said to the intern."

"You actually care about these little things?" the intern replied in surprise.

"Who's distributing the medicine?" Soger asked. "A charity?"

“Lugu Group.” The intern paused, then said with emotion, “Not long ago, many people boycotted it, but now everyone sees it as a savior.”

Deer Valley Group—Suger was surprised to hear this name. The image of the CEO flashed through his mind; when they met, that guy showed absolutely no signs of being a philanthropist.

Had his words moved him? Socrates thought, "That's pure fantasy."

“At least they have their medicine,” he said softly.

The intern gleaned some information from Suger's subtle wording—this mysterious patient had a poor impression of the Deer Valley Group.

“It’s just a facade,” the intern said. “They’re just trying to silence the dissenters.”

"Did they really get the medicine?" Soger asked.

“That’s how it is now,” the intern said, changing the subject. “But soon they’ll have nothing left. By the time they realize it, they won’t even be able to buy the smuggled drugs.”

“You work here, and you have your own stance.”

Suger glanced at the back door of the illegal clinic. He actually agreed with the intern's guess, but a sense of wishful thinking made him unable to resist refuting the intern's words.

He hoped things would turn out well, which would make him feel better.

"I have no position."

The intern shook his head.

"I just don't want to pin my hopes on other people's kindness."

Socrates turned his head and sized up the intern. The young man was in good health, with short, black hair and a sea-blue prosthetic eye. If you ignored the black ring on his ear, he would look like a high school student from the 21st century, yet he possessed a level of sobriety that belied his appearance.

But in this environment, being sober is a kind of pain.

"Don't think too negatively about things."

Su Ge patted the intern on the shoulder; his palm was enveloped by the Gu Diao, a gesture that wouldn't cause skin flakes to fall off or risk leaking genetic information. ...

The intern instinctively made a dodging motion, but only hesitated for a moment before actually moving away. Suger turned and left, the intern watching his figure disappear around the corner of the underpass.

"Thank you for your kind words."

He muttered to himself, then turned and went back to the unlicensed clinic. Walking down the corridor, several patients lived in cramped wards on either side. Sometimes Ruan Qiuheng would bring out some new drugs and use them as clinical trial subjects; the interns knew this was a collaboration between her and the pharmaceutical company.

When the intern entered the reception room, Ruan Qiuheng was coming out of the scanning room, picking through samples in the cabinet while issuing commands to the intern via brain-computer interface.

"List of patients seeking medical attention."

The intern immediately sent her the list of patients, which included the conditions of hundreds of patients who had accumulated during this period. In just half a second, Ruan Qiuheng selected three patients from the list.

"These few are interesting. Arrange a time for them to come see me."

"What about the others?" the intern asked.

It was a stupid question he knew the answer to, yet he asked it anyway. Ruan Qiuheng had been treating fewer and fewer patients lately. Strictly speaking, this wasn't a question, but a reminder. But he immediately realized that Ruan Qiuheng didn't need his reminder. She stopped what she was doing and quietly looked at him.

He lowered his head.

"Feel sorry."

"Clean out the brain-dead patient in room number 3, replace him with a suitable one, continue administering the medication, and record all his reactions."

Ruan Qiuheng did not pursue the intern's mistake. He simply placed a bottle of new medicine on the table, gave him instructions, and left the consultation room.

The intern breathed a sigh of relief. He picked up the thumb-sized vial of powder, examined it, and tossed it into his left breast pocket. Then, he looked towards the door to the scanning room.

Ten minutes ago, Su Ge had just come out of this door.

Ruan Qiuheng is an unlicensed doctor, and the intern often sees suspicious individuals coming to his clinic for consultations. Upon first meeting Su Ge, the intern initially thought Su Ge might be a demon undergoing illegal ascension. However, after several encounters, the intern discovered that this mysterious patient, always accompanied by a wanderer/Type C, possessed a unique quality—he was surprisingly human.

This kind of temperament is very rare nowadays.

The intern looked toward the scanning room.

He was a little curious about what Ruan Qiuheng had been doing inside.

He pushed open the door and entered the room, where numerous microelectrodes floated within the instrument. He walked around to the back of the white seat, extended his index finger, and with a flick of his fingernail, a nerve connector emerged.

He was Ruan Qiuheng's assistant, but Ruan Qiuheng only regarded him as a foolish errand boy. However, Ruan Qiuheng was unaware that he had left backdoors in these scanning devices, which Ruan Qiuheng used to secretly learn his medical skills.

He was curious why Suger, who only had psychosomatic syndrome, would secretly seek treatment from the black doctor.

However, he didn't have high hopes of being able to see the scan data.

He still remembered the first time Suger and Chiba Ryoko came over.

At that time, Ruan Qiuheng was sitting on the sofa, explaining the cause of the illness and the cost.

Chiba Ryoko, sitting across the table, said to her:

"No data can be retained; I need to observe the treatment process from the sidelines."

Her tone was very firm.

The neural connector is silently connected to the scanning device.

A large amount of scan data was input into the intern's brain-computer interface, where he saw a copy of the data that had just been copied.

This data had already been completely deleted under Chiba Ryoko's supervision, yet it remained on the scanning device. Furthermore, Ruan Qiuheng had just copied it.

The intern paused, a strange sense of fear welling up in his emotional module. He hesitated for a moment, then proceeded to read the data.

He saw a purely biological brain, interspersed with some abnormal neural circuits. This is a symptom unique to psychomotor syndrome.

The mental imagery syndrome and the purely biological brain—these two seemingly unrelated things were presented to him in this way.

(End of this chapter)