Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

"That was a great being."

Wayne was somewhat surprised by his answer; an ordinary person might have answered "great invention" or "great person".

He thought he would answer "great creatures" from a more scientific perspective, but he never expected to give an even more indescribable answer, "great beings," though the difference wasn't that significant.

"Indescribable," the man said again.

Wayne paused for a moment: "The contents of that book are indescribable." This answer seemed to involve a part of his own subjective consciousness.

The square-faced man noticed it too. Wayne's answer this time seemed thoughtful, even if the thinking was involuntary; this way, the subconscious wouldn't be detected.

"Please answer within one second of hearing the question," the square-faced man coldly demanded.

The man with deep wrinkles in the middle and the woman with glasses on the right turned their heads and looked at each other. This was the first time Wayne had seen them show any obvious expression since he entered the room.

All they want is a subconscious answer.

Wayne thought to himself, 'One second is too short. Looks like I need to completely let my guard down.'

"Death," the square-faced man said.

"Death might be a relief," Wayne blurted out, but it was still a bit awkward because his own subjective thoughts had gotten mixed in and kept up with the speed of his reply.

The square-faced man didn't write anything down; instead, he picked up a stack of white paper and a pencil, got up, and handed them to him.

"Next, let's do the drawing method. I'll show you some cards. You need to keep looking at the cards and saying what's on them while drawing with your hands. Don't think, and don't stop."

Wei En took a deep breath, realizing that he wouldn't get through this if he didn't lower his guard, so he looked at the card in the square-faced man's hand.

The first picture shows a gloomy sky, with dark clouds, continuous rain, and flashes of lightning.

"Sky, dark clouds, torrential rain, lightning," Wayne said, staring at the card while casually drawing on the paper with a pencil.

Because the conscious mind was occupied by the act of describing the contents of the card, the right hand, which was constantly drawing, was taken over by the subconscious.

The cards continue to switch: a bloodstained guillotine, piles of corpses, a deep blue sea, a close-up of maggots, a little girl growing inside a wall...

Wayne kept describing the rapidly changing cards and kept drawing, not knowing what he was drawing. He had no ideas at all, but was just a little agitated by the huge differences in the content and style of the cards.

Gradually, the square-faced man frowned slightly as he looked at the white paper in Wayne's hand, while still switching cards in his hand.

The man in the middle and the woman with glasses on the right both stood up and looked.

"Okay, that's enough, stop now."

Suddenly, the square-faced man stopped switching cards, and Wayne finally came to his senses.

"oh."

After drawing for only a short while, he felt his right hand getting weak, and noticing the change in the expressions of the three judges, his heart sank.

What did I draw?

He looked at the paper in his hand and saw that most of it was blacked out, without any pattern, just a grayish-black mess, but some lines were even darker and thicker.

These thick, dark lines twisted and raged, and when put together, they formed six blurry, square-shaped simplified Chinese characters.

That was a line of text that only he could understand in this world:

The Seven Chapters of the Mysterious Monarch's Secret Scripture.

The square-faced man pointed and asked, "What's this?"

Wayne was stunned, not understanding what was going on.

There is no Chinese language in this world.

The common language of the Federation also differs from the English of the impression. Although both are composed of letters, there are significant discrepancies in their word roots and meanings.

Even with significant deviations, the federal language is still a linear script. Chinese characters, on the other hand, are square-shaped.

Will they be able to recognize the symbols I drew as characters? Does the Federation understand Chinese? Or perhaps a similar type of writing system?

This explanation is also reasonable.

Wayne focused his attention on observing the micro-expressions of the three judges.

They were all professionally trained, and their faces showed almost no flaws, but Wayne could still sense their unease and tension through the disordered trembling of the cilia on their skin.

[Perception Lv.1 - Observation of the Microscopic] Progress 6.8%

"I don't know, it seems to be something I saw in a dream before, I have a vague impression of it." Wayne replaced "Earth experience" with "dream".

"Please provide more details."

"In my dream, I was at an unknown street stall, browsing through some books I couldn't understand. There were some strange symbols on them, which left a vague impression on me." Wayne continued to subtly replace the key information while carefully observing whether the three judges would have any unusual reactions.

Is the past real?

While Wayne was making up lies, he actually felt as if it had really happened.

"Hmm." The square-faced man exchanged a glance with the other two, but said nothing more.

"Can you tell me what these symbols mean?" Wayne asked tentatively.

Because he genuinely believed that the fabricated experience might have actually happened, his expression was sincere, showing no signs of lying.

The square-faced man took the paper and pen from his hand.

The woman with glasses continued, "Wayne Weber, the judging is over. You may leave now."

Wayne glanced at them and concluded that although they were expressionless, they were actually feeling troubled by the upcoming review.

[Perception Lv.1 - Observation of the Microscopic] Progress 6.9%

"Thank you." With deep-seated doubts, Wayne got up and left.

He pushed open the door to the judging room and saw Ethan waiting against the wall by the door.

Ethan remained calm, showing no signs of impatience despite waiting for over an hour, nor did he inquire about the situation inside the judging room. He simply stated:

"Let's go, I'll take you for a medical check-up."

The medical examination area was on the 31st floor of the Ritz Hotel. After Wayne followed Ethan down one floor, the complicated medical examination began.

It's not just neuropsychological testing; there are also performance tests such as tactile perception, kinesthetic perception, and hand coordination and dexterity, as well as tests for spatial perception, cognitive flexibility, and more...

These tests are all versions compiled internally by the Special Administration Bureau, with standards higher than those for ordinary military agents, and are completed by some resident military doctors.

Finally, there are even assessments and tests for mental disorders.

It wasn't until two hours later, around 10 a.m., that Wein finished all the tests.

Aside from some non-healthy cysts in the chest cavity, and the fact that no cyst problems can be detected, or that the cysts are homologous to Weinberg's cysts and highly compatible like gene expression.

Aside from that, there were no other setbacks.

Ethan then smiled slightly: "Congratulations, you've successfully joined our Cannon Fodder Division and become a trainee investigator."

Wayne raised an eyebrow: "So that's considered joining?"

"Yes, your information and all the assessment results will first be reviewed by Section One, then by the Director, and finally compiled at the Special Affairs Bureau headquarters in the federal capital and entered into the federal archives," Ethan said.

"Then there are still many procedures to go through. How can we be sure that it will pass?" Wayne asked.

Ethan patted Wayne on the shoulder: "That's because we're the Investigation Department, which faces the unknown. Although we're cannon fodder, we're also very important. We won't deliberately hold you back from the review process, especially since you have the token."

"What exactly is that pocket watch? This is the second time you've mentioned a keepsake," Wayne asked.

"I don't know much, but in short, people who possess tokens are favored by those important figures. In our reports, we usually call these people messengers. Messengers are generally very talented and can easily advance to become formal investigators," Ethan explained.

At this point, Wayne was completely certain that the important person who gave the original owner the token was the little girl the original owner had met at the banquet in the metropolis.

The person whom the Special Affairs Bureau considers a big shot is actually a little girl.

"A full-fledged investigator? Is it difficult to advance from trainee investigator to full-fledged investigator?"

"It's very difficult, only one in ten succeeds." Ethan sighed softly, a hint of worry on his face. "Usually, one has to go through a process of actively receiving the characteristic. The characteristic can be understood as a mysterious power that carries pollution. Only by enduring the pollution that comes with the characteristic entering the body and achieving a symbiotic balance with the pollution can one stably master the characteristic and become a formal investigator."

"What if a balance isn't achieved?" Wayne asked.

Ethan shrugged, looking nonchalant: "That would be a terrible death. But don't worry, messengers have a special constitution; they are generally drawn to traits and contamination, and can successfully achieve a symbiotic balance with contamination, thus mastering their traits. Therefore, you're only one achievement away from becoming a full-fledged investigator."

Wayne nodded, having roughly understood the messenger's special nature. It seemed that Ethan, Matthew, and the others were all official investigators, possessing some kind of corrupted or unique power within them.

After saying that, Ethan led Wayne to the Logistics and Preparedness Section of the Sixth Division, where they met Lena Moran, who was sitting in the office.

She was a young woman under thirty, wearing a dark, fitted long dress, with delicate features and captivating eyes.

The overall atmosphere is relaxed and comfortable, without any sense of seriousness, which suits the atmosphere of the logistics department.

Through Ethan's introduction, Wayne learned that Lena was a minor shareholder of the Ritz Hotel, holding a portion of the property rights, and also a staff member of the Special Affairs Bureau's Logistics Department, responsible for the daily life, meals, and accommodations of the Special Affairs Bureau members in the hotel.

After learning about the situation, Lena chatted briefly with Ethan. Upon learning that Wayne was a "messenger," she couldn't help but look at Wayne a few more times, her eyes filled with approval.

She then took out several items from the cabinet behind her, picked up the register, checked each item one by one, and signed to register.

After registration was completed, he handed the items to Wayne, enthusiastically explaining:

"Here are some basic equipment that all new members of your Seventh Division must have. The compounds that temporarily improve physical fitness are nothing special. The main thing is this reality deviation measuring device. Hmm... let Ethan teach you how to use it. Good luck, my dear little messenger."

"Thanks."

Wayne accepted several items, including unidentified pills, injections, a pistol, and a bulletproof vest. The most eye-catching item was a watch-like device with an ordinary appearance, but the dial markings were not for time, but for 0% to 50%.

This should be what's known as a reality deviation meter.

Ethan rolled up his sleeve, showing the "reality deviation meter" on his wrist, and said:

"The so-called reality deviation is the degree to which the environment deviates from reality."

Deviations are usually associated with contamination.

This instrument can measure the highest value of the deviation from reality in the vicinity, which can indirectly measure the degree of pollution in the environment.

In other words.

When the reality deviation is 1%, it means that the surrounding environment has been slightly distorted due to pollution, and cognition will also deviate slightly from reality.

When the reality deviation is 100%, it means that the surrounding environment has been completely distorted due to pollution, and the perceived reality no longer exists.

"But the highest mark on this dial is only 50%," Wayne asked.

"If more than 50% is not meaningful to measure, then it's no longer within our scope of concern," Ethan added.

Wayne nodded and put the reality deviation meter on his wrist: "Won't it break?"

"Don't worry, it's made with military-grade manufacturing processes. If you stand here and throw it downstairs, at most the hands will break," Ethan said.

"That's really impressive," Wayne remarked, while simultaneously bringing up the panel in his mind, but he didn't see any increase in his Old Days Points.

It seems that this device is not a mysterious object, or rather, it does not possess the kind of aura that I can absorb.

Suddenly, the door to the logistics department office was gently pushed open, and a young woman with bright red hair poked her head in, speaking softly and with extreme politeness:

"Hi, Lena, I'm sorry to bother you. Ethan, and the new guy, sorry, I don't remember your name, but our team two is about to go on a mission."