One hundred and eighty degrees proved that those chips had already been activated to fifty percent, and yet this person was still alive. The flickering data on the screen made The Elder's voice tremble. In previous experiments, less than half of the subjects could withstand one hundred and eighty degrees, which meant that this mere F-class genotype's physical endurance was comparable to that of a D-class.

However, how much longer could he last? Every additional ten degrees would yield another set of data that made The Elder unbearably excited, but Brian Clark's life or death was of no concern to The Elder.

Brian Clark searched for a chance to escape amidst the relentless waves of pain.

Chapter Three Change

“At the moment between life and death, intense pain will shatter the will to survive. At such times, you might as well try deep self-hypnosis, numb the nerves that transmit pain, focus your mind, and use the shortest time to think…”

Those were words Field had once said to Brian Clark, but Brian Clark had never truly tried it, because never before had he been so utterly powerless to resist as he was now.

Hypnosis.

Self-hypnosis.

His whole body convulsed. Brian Clark struggled to take a breath and closed his eyes.

……

Watching the peak on the screen rise again, The Elder's hand trembled as he removed his goggles and leaned closer to the screen, his deeply sunken eyes fixed on it, as if trying to discern whether this was real.

The dial had already been turned to two hundred and seventy degrees, and the chip was seventy-five percent activated.

Without even glancing at Brian Clark on the experiment table, The Elder grinned with a twisted expression. The life indicator line was still beating strongly enough—so, it could go even higher!

Two hundred and eighty degrees…

Two hundred and ninety degrees…

Three hundred degrees…

The instruments had begun to sound warnings, but the glaring red warning signs and shrill alarms did not shake The Elder in the slightest.

The Elder's eyes were now filled with madness.

Of the nearly a thousand previous test subjects, none had survived to three hundred degrees, but today…

“Heh… hehehe… My, Henry Baker's name… will also appear in 'Glory' and 'Cipher'!”

Brian Clark had no energy to pay attention to The Elder's words right now. If he had heard them, he would surely think this The Elder was insane! To think that with such meager resources, he could dream of appearing in 'Glory' and 'Cipher'!?

'Glory' and 'Cipher' were the names of the most renowned electronic magazines in the galactic network, hailed as the “histories” of the Star Alliance. In the face of these two e-magazines, countless other Star Alliance publications faded into the background. These two were also the only ones among all Star Alliance e-magazines to have a contribution score above ninety out of one hundred. In other words, any person, event, or research achievement published in these two magazines had a minimum contribution score of ninety.

Anyone or anything featured in 'Glory' or 'Cipher' was enough to make the entire Star Alliance tremble. 'Glory' focused more on generals and politicians, while 'Cipher' featured more academics and technicians.

Anyone or any achievement recorded in these two giant magazines was the result of countless manpower, resources, money, and time. On the brown-soil planet where Brian Clark lived, the highest reported contribution score was only a little over twenty, which could only be recorded in some relatively obscure magazines. In fact, as long as the contribution score exceeded ten, it would be broadcast repeatedly on the planet’s TV stations for more than ten days—let alone a score above ninety.

So, to any normal person, The Elder's words would sound like pure delusion.

The Elder turned the dial again.

Three hundred and ten degrees…

Three hundred and twenty degrees…

Beep—beep—beep—

The alarm grew more urgent, the life curve began to fluctuate chaotically, several instruments started to smoke, buttons popped off with loud bangs, and the trend was only getting worse. The tubes attached to Brian Clark also began to shake, as if they could no longer bear the load.

Bang!

One of the finger restraints holding Brian Clark's hand was shot off by the high load.

Bang!

Another one.

But The Elder no longer cared about Brian Clark; all his attention was fixed on the data on the screen, his hand on the dial, eager to see the final numbers.

Buttons from the instruments were flying everywhere.

There was no time left. Brian Clark knew exactly where his limit was.

With two freed fingers, he pinched a button that had flown off some unknown instrument. This was the only response his mind, numbed by pain and self-hypnosis, could muster—it was also Brian Clark's last chance.

And yet, with just this sliver of consciousness, his analysis was astonishingly precise, more accurate than ever before, as if he were a precision instrument making adjustments and error calculations. In less than a second, Brian Clark flicked the button from his hand.

Thud—

The flying button bounced off the floor, the wall, and a panel on an instrument, rebounding three times before shooting into The Elder's left eye, severing the central nervous circuit in his brain and killing him instantly. At that moment, the “madman’s” finger was still on the dial, about to make the final adjustment. The dial was already pointing to three hundred and fifty degrees—any closer, and it would have been a matter of life and death. If it had really reached three hundred and sixty degrees, Brian Clark would have been finished.

Fortunately, The Elder was still human. Fortunately, The Elder had not grotesquely modified his entire body. The instantly dead The Elder collapsed beside the instrument.