Psychics don't die from gunfire

Chapter 40 Premonition
"Ah, long time no see, here is your dear Milton"

"Milton."

The person on the other end of the line interrupted, "How's the progress?"

"Hey, why are you in such a hurry?"

Looking at Kenge in the video, Milton sighed, "There are some signs of progress. It won't take long."

He tapped his temple and sent a few photos.

"Don't worry, that guy is still hiding in the deep moss area. This is a picture extracted from the default video recording of the artificial eye when someone encountered him before. I have determined the approximate range of his activities. The next step is to investigate one by one."

"It will be quick, I promise."

Hearing this, Kenge's expression changed slightly and softened: "In that case, it's fine as long as you know the number. But I remind you, it's been four days, and we agreed to do it within a week."

"You don't trust me that much?"

Milton said in a very aggrieved tone: "My most respected Director Kenge, I have done a good job in our past cooperation, right?"

"And to be honest, you get what you pay for. This is the level of my level. If you think it's too slow, why don't you find a higher-level mercenary?"

Milton slapped his forehead and suddenly realized, "Oh, I understand. It's not because others don't want to deal with a fallen director or they can't afford the price. It must be you who doesn't want to, right?"

"Hmm! I see! Thank you for your trust in me—"

beep.

The communication was disconnected again.

Kenge took a deep breath and had the urge to crush the communicator. Every time the other party could arouse his anger - but he didn't have a communicator in his hand. The communication just now was carried out through electronic implants and communication software.

But this emotion only lasted for a moment.

As a management employee of Emerald Pharmaceuticals (Palosser Branch), Kenger has undergone a set of enhanced surgeries to castrate his emotional fluctuations to a certain extent in order to improve his concentration and judgment.

He also has a set of "physiological monitors" implanted inside his body, and has purchased expensive medical intelligent data analysis services produced by Jade Pharmaceuticals.

Any excessive emotional fluctuations will trigger a service warning, and the built-in injectable drugs will calm and stabilize emotions and avoid excessive trauma.

Kenge closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he turned back into the calm middle-aged man.

He dialed a communication.

"Vedani, what's the progress of the equipment repair in the laboratory?"

"Is it ready for use? Well, you did a great job. Let's restart the experiment and notify the next batch of volunteers to prepare to enter."

".Did we fail again at the Trial Field?"

Kenge was silent for a moment.

When he spoke again, his tone was cold: "No, we must not stop - throughout history, no research results have been easily obtained."

"I recognize that this will require some sacrifices."

"But our goal is not sacrifice, and sacrifice is worthless. But the road to the final result is destined to be full of sacrifices. Vidani, remember this. This is what we need - and it is also a quality that a great researcher must possess."

The call was disconnected long ago.

But Kenge just stood there, seemingly lost in thought.

After a long time, the man finally raised his head.

A low murmur echoed in this bright and spacious house with two bedrooms and one living room, located in Baimen District, and furnished with all kinds of high-end furniture. "Sacrifice itself is worthless. I must succeed."

Even with the director's authority, he could transport away the cyberpsychopathic volunteers in the "Cyberpsychia Inhibitor" project in the name of "waste destruction."

Even if they secretly diverted the funds of the institute to open up another hidden site, and placed those smuggled volunteers there to study the "weaponization of cyber psychopaths" project.

As long as I can make "cyber psychopaths" controllable
No, even if there is only a controllable trend, I can apply for a formal project from the head office! For a project of this level, those people in the Palose branch cannot and dare not resist the will of the "head office"!

Those damn guys will no longer dare to reject my project applications, squeeze out my study and visiting places, and be harsh in my funding approval.

And he, Kenge Tris, will use this to return to the center of power in Palose, and even go a step further and climb towards the company headquarters, towards the real center of power of [Emerald Pharmaceuticals]!
[Dear user, your mood swings are 23% higher than expected. Please keep breathing smoothly, drink a small amount of pure water, sit still or lie down as much as possible, and adjust your mood.]

[Also, is it necessary to contact the nearest available physician, or have a transport drone deliver the medicine?]

"unnecessary."

Kenge took a deep breath and his expression slowly returned to indifference.

"Preheat the vehicle at the door, start the unmanned mode, and specify the itinerary - the Third Institute of Plosser Mind and Neurology."

He walked to the mirror, adjusted his collar, and after making sure it was done meticulously, he walked towards the door.

It's time to work.

Paul leaned against a wall thickly covered in graffiti.

The afternoon sky was filled with thick haze, and the blinding sunlight shone through the gaps in the haze, causing Paul to subconsciously squint his eyes. Several dizzying circles of light swayed, and his vision suddenly went dark with a snap.

“It’s really unreliable.”

Paul has become accustomed to the problem of his artificial eye produced by "Blue Lake Co., Ltd." restarting from time to time. He pulled the dirty quilt beside him, waiting for the artificial eye to restart again, and couldn't help muttering in his heart.

"Blue Lake" has clearly announced a lifetime warranty for its products, but their offline stores refuse to repair their prosthetic eyes - even if they bought them third-hand from underground black doctors, even if they cannot produce product insurance certificates, even if they ignored risk warnings and downloaded a bunch of pirated software, causing the prosthetic protocol to be invaded.

But didn’t I spend any money?

I spent money! A full three hundred and fifty credit points!

Why don't you fix it for yourself? Or just replace it with a new one. If you are reasonable, you will definitely not refuse.

While Paul once again came to the conclusion that "this damn company deserves to die", his prosthetic eye finally restarted and returned to normal - just ignore the pop-up ad in the lower left corner and the black dot in the upper right corner.

But at this moment, Paul was startled.

At some point, a man wearing a baseball cap and a mask squatted in front of him.

The other person looked at him and slowly took off his mask, revealing his true face.

This face.
After six full seconds of close eye contact, the "face recognition program" of the implanted prosthetic eye, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn't, was successfully activated.

Then, a pop-up window popped up with the following message: “Dear user, the portrait picture you added to the memo two days ago has now been identified as a similar person. Do you want to mark it?——”

But Paul had no time to care about it, and didn't feel the slightest bit of joy that "I actually found the person!"

"Do you know me? Do you know this face? It doesn't matter if you don't. But judging from your expression, you have already recognized me."

A uniquely cold touch of metal quietly pressed against Paul's throat.

Song Shi held the scalpel and spoke in a gentle voice:
"—Then I need you to do me a favor."

(End of this chapter)