Gao Wu: I inherited the evil organization in the game

Chapter 591 Soul Cutting, Listen, Fate is Knocking (Part 2)

Stripping away the tedious and complex experimental arguments, let's just state the conclusions.

The replication of memory is not about copying memories, but about cutting out the soul!

Moreover, this kind of cutting is not just cutting off a corner of the soul, but rather shaving off a layer of the entire soul's thickness.

To use an analogy, the soul is a sheet of rice paper, and memory is the painting on that paper. The technology of copying or transmitting memory is like taking scissors and cutting the paper.

Instead of cutting vertically, it splits horizontally in half.

Thus, although the drawing was completely "transferred" to the new medium, the original paper became irrevocably thinner.

The colors on the drawing paper will become dull and blurry. Those faded memories and blurred images are not simply forgotten, but a deeper, more spiritual loss.

It is permanent and irreversible; it cannot be glued back on.

This is why, among organizations or individuals who possess similar technologies, memory uploading or backup is often considered a last resort—used only when life is hanging by a thread and the body is about to perish.

Even those combatants who live on the edge usually only make one backup, as a last resort.

After all, current technology is not even able to observe the shape of the soul, let alone its thickness.

Who knows how thick your Xuan paper is, how many cuts it can withstand, or which cut might be wrong and cause it to fall apart?

Of course, the destruction of the Xuan paper does not mean the annihilation of the soul, so there is no need to be too nervous.

It can still be salvaged; the power of science can be used to re-glue it, but the shape after gluing is hard to say.

Fortunately, Zuo Bai is experienced in this area and can barely piece together the shattered souls into the same shape—the adorable students of No. 8 Middle School are the best proof of that.

Zuo Bai was standing in front of the workbench, intently controlling the robotic arm as he slowly inserted a scalpel into the back of the head.

This scene looked like suicide.

Half a minute later, the robotic arm slowly dragged it out and removed a memory chip the size of a fingernail, covered with blood, from the back of his head.

A nearly transparent wire was connected to the back of the chip, and the other end of the wire covered his entire brain like a fishing net.

This surgery cannot tolerate the slightest mistake:
If this chip is damaged even slightly, Zuo Bai will immediately become a vegetable.

The wires connecting the chip must also not be broken, otherwise it will distort in place.

Performing surgery on yourself is extremely difficult; anyone else would likely be sweating profusely and trembling uncontrollably.

Zuo Bai, on the other hand, remained calm, his eyes still showing a hint of morbid excitement.

The robotic arm operated precisely under his control, and he murmured to himself:

"That's the magic of technology. Although I can't observe the soul, I can use some means to temporarily anchor my soul to this chip."

Zuo Bai doesn't know what shape the soul really is.

But he was absolutely certain that at this moment his soul was being partially separated from his body, attaching itself to countless nano-components in the memory chip like magnetized iron filings.

Although this strange state of separation was exceptionally brief, it was enough for him to complete yet another dangerous soul-severing.

Zuo Bai said quietly, "A chip integrated into flesh and blood can deceive the soul!"

Once the soul has been copied and transferred, it is easy to upload and update it synchronously with the empty device; all that is needed is to connect to the network and verify the key.

Because the deception has already been completed.
However, the very first step of cutting requires a risky surgery.

Therefore, if someone claims that the first memory upload can be completed with just a data cable, it must be a complete scam.

These lies are often disguised as high-tech, specifically designed to deceive those who have only a superficial understanding of technology.

(Shi Wuming: "..." I'm dead and you still want to whip my corpse? Besides, I wasn't even fooled. I died before I even had a chance to be fooled~)

Zuo Bai has 100% confidence in the surgical procedure.

No matter how difficult the surgery, he will not make any mistakes.

The only risk is...

"I've already had my soul cut twice. How many more times can my soul be cut?" A hint of hesitation flashed in Zuo Bai's eyes.

But his hands didn't stop moving; he continued to perform a variety of dazzling operations on the workbench.

Cutting is just a general term; the actual process involves as many as 13 complex steps.

After a long period of research, Zuo Bai had a vague guess about the depth of the soul.

Most people's souls can withstand three cuts, a small number of people's souls can withstand up to five cuts, and extremely rare people with extraordinary talents can withstand seven cuts.

Nine times is theoretically the limit that humans can achieve.

It may not just be the soul; the limit for the soul of any living being is no more than nine times.

These conclusions are interwoven with cold experimental data and taboo, hidden knowledge.

What inspired Zuo Bai the most was a forbidden file he obtained from the depths of the hidden gate in the sixth district.

Behind the hidden gate in District Six lies the ruins of a civilization destroyed by a certain god, and the forbidden file records a horrifying blasphemous study of the gods by a mad scientist from that world.

After years of research, Zuo Bai translated a portion of that document.

One of the translations yielded a truly shocking conclusion: that gods are not eternal and immortal.

They can be killed!

But you have to kill him nine times!

Because gods can be resurrected nine times!
Nine is the ultimate number, and also the limit of the gods!
In other words, if a person's soul can be cut nine times, it means that he can be "reborn" nine times.

Although this resurrection may differ from the resurrection of the gods.

But to some extent, could we say that this person has come incredibly close to, or even rivaled, a god?

Zuo Bai joined the Corpse Cult and entered the field of immortality technology, where he became obsessed with conducting various inhumane experiments. In essence, he was using the power of the Corpse Cult to complete his own research.

Whatever his research topic may seem to be on the surface, it actually points to a most hidden core—the soul!
Yes, Zuo Bai's tireless research into the soul is driven by the hope that one day he can scientifically create a god.

He didn't even care if that god was himself; he just wanted to create a god!

Therefore, such people cannot possibly have any loyalty to the Corpse Cult, or if they do, it must be extremely rare.

This is why, after learning that the second clone had been targeted by [Fate], he did not warn the Cult of the Dead at all, but instead immediately activated his hidden power in the Immortal Technology to silence the "warriors" who witnessed the truth.

As for why those soldiers didn't report to the company immediately—Zuo Bai was being targeted by [fate].

The process of analyzing the answers was complex, but the result was simple: they wanted to live!

Because they want to live, they must never tell the company the truth, especially not a single word about "fate." Otherwise, for safety reasons, the company will definitely initiate isolation procedures, repeatedly interrogate and torture them, and finally execute them.

You've seen [fate], and yet you still managed to come back alive?

Why didn't you die?
Have you been corrupted by fate?
If you weren't corrupted by [fate], then has [fate] planted a seed within you, or perhaps you were marked by [fate] and followed you here?

have no idea!!!
Such associations are endless!
And no matter how they answer, they can never dispel the suspicions of the company and the Corpse Cult behind them.

When a cult doesn't trust you, is your fate even a question?

Therefore, they tacitly kept quiet and collectively fabricated a lie, reporting to the company that Professor Zuo Bai had "disappeared" in the chaos after being attacked by unidentified armed men.

The "disappearance" outcome is the essence of the matter; it preserves the possibility of Zuo Bai's survival while also leaving room for possible death.

After that, whether Professor Zuo Bai returned to the company or not, they were able to continue their cover-up.

Even then, they might still be able to continue colluding with Zuo Bai, because they are certain that Zuo Bai himself would never dare to confess to the company the fact that he had encountered [fate].

They guessed correctly, so... they were all silenced by Zuo Bai.

The only one who escaped being silenced was Zhao Jingyi.

The reason Zuo Bai let her go was a decision made after careful consideration.

There are three reasons:

Firstly, Zhao Jingyi cannot be considered an internal member of the Corpse Cult. She is likely unaware of just how terrifying [fate] truly is. In other words, her fear of fate is less than her fear of Zuo Bai.

As a student personally trained by him, Zuo Bai felt that he could completely control Zhao Jingyi.

Secondly, Zuo Bai needs someone to return to the company to look after the laboratory for him. Given that most of his students died at No. 8 Middle School, Zhao Jingyi is the only one left who understands the operation of his laboratory, so her value becomes apparent.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the alarm of [fate] has not yet been lifted, and Zuo Bai dares not return to the company at all.

He feared that if fate were to track him down to the company, he would have no choice but to remain outside and observe until the all-clear was lifted.

However, he could hardly give up the company and the experimental resources behind the Corpse Cult, so he needed someone as his alter ego to continue to shine in the company.

All the clones are dead, so it can only be Zhao Jingyi.

In conclusion, after Zuo Bai remotely eliminated Zhao Jingyi, he used an encrypted channel to remotely promote her to the position of First Assistant in the Immortal Life Technology Laboratory.

When he was away from the company, Zhao Jingyi could control the laboratory to the greatest extent possible, continue to apply for funding and experimental materials from the company on his behalf, and secretly transfer the laboratory's assets.

Yes, out of a scientist's rigor, Zuo Bai had to prepare for the worst.

Thinking that if the company or the Corpse Cult were to be buried by [Fate] one day, he had to transfer, no, save and preserve the company's precious assets as much as possible before that happened.

He has a very deep love for the company.
Unfortunately, Zuo Bai had taken precautions against everything, but he hadn't anticipated that someone would suddenly knock on the door.

Little did he know that fate loves to play tricks on those who think they can foresee everything!
"Boom boom boom——"

A dull knocking sound suddenly pierced through the metal of the container and exploded inside the sealed laboratory.

Zuo Bai had just completed a soul cut, and the memories had just been uploaded to the computer. Before they could be instilled into the clone, he was interrupted by a knock on the door, and his heart rate suddenly soared!

Shocked!

A cold, unexpected horror struck his soul like a hammer.

Boom!Boom!Boom!
The knock on the door sounded again.

Not an auditory hallucination!

The knocking was neither hurried nor slow, and the intervals were even, conveying a sense of politeness and patience, as if to say that the person outside the door was a courteous and very friendly guest.

"who is it?"

"Who's knocking?"

How did we find our way here?

Zuo Bai's breathing suddenly froze, his fingers flew across the keyboard, and his pupils contracted sharply the instant the monitoring screen switched.

He had been completely absorbed in the thirteen steps of the "soul cutting" process. Although he was very confident, he dared not be distracted in the slightest since it concerned his own soul.

As a top scientist, his concentration must be extraordinary. When he was focused on his work, he naturally ignored the taxi that suddenly appeared on the surveillance screen.

When he came to his senses, he realized that a taxi had been parked outside the container at some point.

There was a man sitting in the taxi, in the front passenger seat.

The seatbelt was still tightly fastened to his body; his face was ashen, and his eyes were vacant, like a shell from which his soul had been ripped out.

Zuo Bai didn't recognize him, but the frozen fear on that face made him feel the same way.

When his gaze shifted to the outside of the car, a chill instantly shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, almost causing his skull to crack open.

What came into view were four faces that he desperately wanted to erase from his memory, yet dared not forget for even a moment.

Three of them were standing on the left, right, and back of the container, respectively, while the man dressed as an emcee, who was knocking on the door, was rolling his eyes.

they are……

Zuo Bai's brain went blank for a moment.

A thousand words, a myriad of thoughts, ultimately coalesced in his mind into two words filled with absurdity, despair, and disbelief:
"Again?!!"

What is the thought process behind conducting the experiment?
It involves proposing hypotheses, designing solutions, and conducting verification.

He made so many assumptions, deduced so many plans, prepared so many backup plans... so why?! Why did he have to come knocking on the door of all times?!

This is the ultimate mockery of his pride and pride in his intelligence and meticulous thinking!
Boom!Boom!Boom!
The third knock came!

This time, the pace was slightly faster, and the intensity seemed to have increased a bit.

Zuo Bai's heart was in his throat; he sensed that the person outside the door was getting impatient.

On the monitor screen, the emcee at the door slowly raised his head, his gaze precisely aimed at the miniature camera on the outer wall of the container, which was covered by thick rust and disguised extremely well.

Even through the screen, Zuo Bai could almost feel the penetrating power and oppressive aura emanating from those sinister white eyes.

“I know you’re in there,”

The emcee's voice drifted in through the door, carrying a chillingly kind tone.

"Could you please open the door? We really don't want to hurt you. The employer has made a clear request that the goods be delivered 'intact'."

He paused, then added very thoughtfully,
"Well, would you like to pack it yourself, or would you like us to pack it for you professionally?"

(End of this chapter)