From what I see now, I believe that "appearance," or say, "Charm," plays an absolutely dominant role.
The Artificial Human Gaslin, who was assigned "Charm," perford very well. He was proficient in manipulating Mandate, hardly seeming like a newcor who had only been in contact for two hours.
In so sense, this could tentatively prove that Mandate and "Charm" are complentary. The stronger the Charm, the more permissions Mandate will grant to the host, and the host, with the use of Mandate, will also beco more skilled, developing more applications of power.
After obtaining the "Gravity" Mandate, Gaslin effortlessly extended his abilities related to "Spaceti." He could halt Spaceti, distort Spaceti to achieve instant teleportation, use Gravity to bend light for invisibility, and control gravity to crush living people into mud... If his Charm were even stronger, perhaps he could stop the rotation of an entire planet?
Until now, everything has proceeded according to the set program. In the arenas of slaughter, even the weakest rabbits have begun to turn into lions, indulging in the slaughter to provide comparative data. Although it’s tragic, their sacrifice is necessary and will be forever rembered... unless the Void hasn’t prevailed by then.
There seems to be so noise outside the door. What exactly is happening?
.........
Squeak——Bang!
The door slowly opened, and the Blacksmith’s corpulent body flooded in like a deluge, walking out of the elevator.
"Stop! Don’t move! This area is restricted, off-limits to unauthorized personnel,"
The security staff of the research facility imdiately moved over, aid their Void Energy guns at the newcor, and shouted loudly:
"Halt your advance imdiately, hands on your head, squat down on the spot!"
Click, clack, click...
The Blacksmith stopped, lifted his purple eyes timidly, glanced at these ard bodyguards, but did not Lift up any weapon.
Because at that mont, he was holding a box in one hand and a work hamr in the other.
On one side were the items of a client, and on the other, the tool for his livelihood. Afraid that the other party would confiscate what he was holding, the Blacksmith lowered his head, shy and timid, not daring to make a sound.
"I said, lift your hands up!" a security officer with a gun shouted loudly, "Are you deaf? Lift your hands up!"
The Blacksmith, startled by the shout, lifted the items in his hands in grievance. The people nearby almost toppled over from the stench of sweat under his arms, barely containing their repulsion towards this grotesque figure. Two security officers then donned gas masks and began to search him for dangerous items.
While the Blacksmith cooperated obediently with the search, the corridor beside him suddenly beca transparent, revealing the empty space below.
[Panoramic Observation Mode—Activated]
A voice ca from the broadcast, and a team of scientists hurried over, stepping on the transparent floor and peering down attentively.
The Blacksmith curiously peeked down: the scientists’ target was unanimously the miniature figures fighting each other in the open space.
Bang, crash!
An Angel holding Sulfur Fire swept through the sky in an instant, chopping down the fleeing Aurora Wings with a sword, tumbling in the air and crashing to the ground. The tall young man fell to the ground emitting a horse-like neigh, whined a few tis, and slowly, a goat-headed Demon crawled out of his own shadow, hoisting him up and rging into his body.
The nearby scientists discussed:
"Looks like ’Pegasus Wings’ is going to be eliminated. It seems that ’Species’ doesn’t enhance the Mandate much."
"It’s too early to conclude. Those sisters only received ’Habits’ and ’Interests.’ After all, it’s their Mandate ’Dark Light’ that’s too powerful."
"A combination is what makes this effect possible. ’Dark Light’ is powerful, but ’Pegasus Wings’ isn’t weak either."
The leading scientist shook his head, watching as the young man slowly burned into a pillar of salt, resolutely lifted his pen, and made a mark in his notebook:
Poseis, ’Species,’ ’Pegasus Power’—Eliminated
"Right, who is this monstrosity?"
As one battle concluded, the scientists only then noticed the large, corpulent Blacksmith standing aside and curiously asked.
"Uh, this guy sohow bypassed the disguise and sneaked in through the back door of the research facility..."
The security personnel said awkwardly.
Blacksmith looked confused as he lifted his head and cautiously watched the twin sisters slowly ascend the platform, their voices coming through the broadcast:
"Oh, what a pity, you almost hit us."
"So boring, I really want so potato and chicken casserole, with a lemon soda to go with it."
"Eh? Did you used to like that kind of stuff?"
"I just started liking it—all of a sudden, and didn’t you as well? You weren’t so arrogant before."
"Huh? What is this even..."
Arrogance, potato and chicken casserole, and lemon soda...
Blacksmith opened his mouth slightly, vaguely sensing sothing familiar.
The scientists looked him over a few tis, one of them said:
"Isn’t there still ’mory’ and the Mandate gene without a place?"
"You are interested in him—well, that’s a good idea."
"After all, he’s so robust and able to recognize disguises. Since he sneaked in, he should be quite resilient."
The scientists quickly reached a consensus. Blacksmith hadn’t reacted yet before his hands and feet were already shackled.
"You shouldn’t have co here."
Security personnel, who had just pulled guns on each other a short while ago, now pitifully said:
"I hope you die soon, at least you can then depart from this world peacefully..."
Blacksmith’s face was blank, and soon he was taken and escorted to an isolated black room.
There was only one researcher there, who had been waiting for a long ti. Without much conversation, he quickly started the complex machinery, took out a sponge-like soft substance from the container, and walked over with a gloomy face holding the color-changing soft body:
"Open your mouth."
Blacksmith was perplexed, but out of shyness, he opened his mouth anyway.
Smack!
The researcher, without any courtesy, stuffed the continuously color-changing soft body material into his mouth, pushed it hard into the back of his throat using a solid plug.
"Mmm-mmm—uh, cough cough cough..."
Blacksmith’s eyes imdiately filled with tears. As soon as the soft material entered his mouth, it left him completely paralyzed from the mouth to the cervical spine, and like a living thing, it kept burrowing into his nasal cavity, blocking his breathing. His complexion imdiately turned the color of liver, as ugly and ghastly as though he were hanged.
But soon, the suffocation ended, replaced by a fierce tingling and burning sensation, stabbing him from the scalp right down to the soles of his feet, leaving no part of his body at ease. His body shook violently, frothing at the mouth, while scenes kept flashing before his eyes.
Whoosh snap!
The researcher lifted a syringe gun and administered an injection, then said indifferently:
"The ’mory of Leoz’ has been integrated into the test subject."
"Next is the Mandate gene..."
"What? The ’Severing Life’ gene is damaged?"
"That shouldn’t go to waste... we’ll just have to throw this guy in and let Gaslin kill him, recover the mory then."
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