Chapter 184: 184. mories of Surgery
The only thing that comforted Lann was that he had earned a considerable amount of gold in this period.
So although Master Blacksmith Tuer Butcher charged a high price, paying him didn’t strain his finances.
"You have skills, certainly you wouldn’t want to farm, but you disdain robbery and highway theft. Yet people need to eat."
Lann recalled the words from a movie he had seen before, and for a mont he felt deeply resonant.
But imdiately, the young man shook his head fiercely.
What’s wrong with needing to eat?
Do I still need to pay for my food now?
Walking on the street, Lann glanced back at the magnificent and delicate Airetusa Academy that stood on the isolated island by the sea, smirking.
Hah, simply can’t talk to those who need to earn their own al money.
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In the dean’s bedroom at midnight, Margaret lay exhausted on the soft big bed, falling into a deep sleep.
Lann’s cat eyes glead subtly in the dark night.
Their intense exercise just now, considering both the fun and hygiene, chose the large bathtub and its surroundings for the location.
So now this large soft bed was dry and tidy.
Moonlight and sea breeze outside the window passed through, lifting the drapes at the window. The dean’s bedroom occupied a very advantageous position at Airetusa Academy.
Maintaining a good view outside the window at a considerable height, even allowing one to see the white line of waves stirred by seagulls skimming over the sea during good weather.
Lann thoroughly enjoyed the aftertaste of the mont.
But his disciplined character wouldn’t let him indulge in it.
His body and techniques were far from perfect, not even complete, and he wouldn’t be content to stop here.
"ntos, activate the firewall algorithm, comnce [mory Dive]."
As soon as the command within his brain was issued, the brightness on his retina abruptly changed.
Lann had already experienced this; it was the mories surging forth, causing his brain to operate at a high power, temporarily affecting the optic nerve.
"Sir, [mory Dive] has begun, I wish you a pleasant exploration."
Under Lann’s tuning, ntos managed to maintain the elegance of the accent, regardless of the content, possessing an authentic London accent effortlessly.
"I don’t wish for ’pleasant exploration,’ I hope you can directly salvage the highlights for ... whoa!"
This ti it wasn’t Lann subduing ntos in his mind; ntos directly unleashed a flood of mories, sweeping away Lann’s consciousness.
It simply couldn’t bear to hear Lann say that.
If you want to enhance computational power, go study and take exams!
I want to study, won’t you give
data?
Find the data yourself from the mories!
If you don’t give
computational power, how do I search?
... The cyclical argunt was already part of Lann and ntos’ everyday life.
And Lann had long since grown accustod to this, naturally adjusting his ntal state to prepare for receiving mory fragnts spanning ten thousand years.
But this ti, the perspective of the mory seed subtly different.
In a hall entirely forged of steel, Lann ’saw’ himself operating on a man on the surgery table before him.
It was said to be a surgery table, but with Lann’s current surgical knowledge, the size of incisions on the man, exposure of organs, degree of skeletal cutting... all seed more like a slaughterhouse.
Yet Lann could feel the inner world of the perspective’s owner didn’t derive perverse pleasure from dismbering human beings.
On the contrary, he was focused and ticulous, caring and serious, like completing a perfect artwork.
This was surgery—a surgery spanning several months, even years, until a warrior beyond mortal was created!
Lann couldn’t help but feel sowhat excited; he had navigated this vast sea of mories for a long ti.
But so far, most were scenes of daily life, training, combat.
These scenes were striking, with plenty of content, but there were considerably few biochemical insights.
The current scene appeared to be an academic atmosphere-rich place.
The perspective’s owner, judging from the position, seed to be the leading figure of the surgery.
He skillfully operated the entire surgery table, the function-integrated platform, bone saw, needle, scissors... categorized orderly working on the surgery subject.
With heavy purple-gold armor hands, the dexterity of fingers exceeded the limits of re mortals.
The perspective’s owner pulled down a display screen with constantly changing and intricate human body indices.
But within the mind of the perspective owner, these tangled pieces of information were summarized swiftly.
"His cardiopulmonary function has minor hidden injuries, though strong, it seems he inhaled chemical gases before? Diluke, connect his artery to the H53 potion line, let’s first suppress the activity of his original heart."
The cold white light made the all-steel structure room appear stern and cold, yet the words of the perspective’s owner remained elegant and steady.
"Sure, got it."
This voice ca from behind, humming so lody while replying.
Different from the perspective owner’s elegant precision, it made Lann feel a sense of debauched frivolity.
Lann sensed an imperceptible pause in the body’s movent within his current view... it was him forcibly controlling his deanor after a sudden disgust.
The perspective’s owner didn’t look back, seemingly unwilling to even glance at the person behind.
"Diluke, brother, we are conducting a solemn and precise surgery. The mortal on the table will beco our brother in a few months, our comrade sharing blood and mutual enmity... you shouldn’t be so frivolous. This isn’t a poetry salon!"
As a bystander, Lann was sowhat stunned.
Since implanting the genetic seed, he had yet to see in most of the mories he explored, these Sons of the Emperor, these noble warriors holding such an attitude towards their comrades.
In his past [mory Dives], these warriors genuinely revered noble virtues, pursued perfect techniques.
Even when facing mortals relatively dull compared to them, these warriors collaborated with the greatest tolerance and patience, accommodating their efficiency.
The feelings for their battle brothers and aspirations for troop leaders were almost ingrained into the bones of every Son of the Emperor.
But just like that, a person... why did he harbor such resentnt towards his comrade?
Lann didn’t feel that the current perspective’s owner had anything out of the ordinary in thoughts and emotions.
Then must it be that ’Diluke,’ who indeed annoyed him?
The story within the vision continued.
After chastising his surgical assistant, the perspective owner took a deep breath, maintaining rational and efficient thinking.
"Hand
the second heart."
This ti he didn’t even want to call the assistant’s na.
A mont later, a large heart imrsed in a transparent vessel’s culture fluid was handed to the perspective owner.
Lann recognized it as the first surgery process following the genetic seed implantation for the Interstellar Warriors—[Second Heart].
While adjusting the hormone levels and physiological state of the person on the surgical table through the screen with superb knowledge and reaction speed, he simultaneously raised his hand to receive the heart-containing vessel.
Lann was seeing the [Second Heart] in its tangible form for the first ti, so looking at this artificially created biological structure slightly differing from typical human hearts, he rely found it novel.
Yet as the perspective owner’s body held the container for less than a second, it suddenly froze.
A mont later, a fury-filled voice squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Diluke... who gave you the guts!!!"
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