The artificial eye showed signs of flickering and disconnection, with the colorful arcs and red filter becoming the last memories.

John truly felt he was dead.

Something seemed to be poking in the darkness, his eyelids were lifted, but he couldn't see anything.

John wasn't sure if he was being lifted.

His sense of touch was intermittent, his consciousness on the brink of dispersion, feeling only scorching heat and icy cold, with no sensation where the subcutaneous armor covered.

"Propofol data anomaly."

"He's been relying on various drugs to hold out until now. Look, even his extremities are swollen."

The doctors gathered around John.

They occasionally spoke diagnostic results while on the operating table.

Due to Black Spider's drug abuse on John, many agents, including anesthesia, had their effects halved, forcing the life-support device to operate at full power.

A doctor threw the blood-stained scalpel into a metal tray, raising both hands and turned to converse with a lady in the corner of the room.

"The arm's cut is terrible."

"Replace the whole arm," came Oulos' voice. "I've read the surgical plan, just use the same product model."

The doctor said the situation was more severe than imagined.

John had replaced both arms with alloy skeletons at Harbor Company.

Due to the collision being too severe, both arms suffered irreversible rigid twisting; one was even completely torn off, with the prosthetic's connecting bones severely fractured, scattered among the internal organs and bushes, making repairs impossible...

"We can only reconstruct both the sternum and scapula, replacing the upper body bones with implants."

The doctor proposed a new surgical plan.

"Then don't use the stock from your warehouse."

Oulos paused for a moment, signaling them to wait.

"The shipment from Europe should have been received, how's the Igdrasir calibration, is it ready for transplantation?"

"The equipment is fine, but he might not be."

Beeping sounds came from the room; someone was swiping and clicking on a screen.

"The patient's name is John. According to the online detection, he has a history of cyberpsychosis. Putting Igdrasir in might turn him into a lunatic if he manages to endure the surgery."

"That's none of your concern, doctor, just get the job done."

Oulos said emotionlessly. "His situation can't get any worse now, it's a risk-free deal, and at worst, I'll pretend I never took the call and he died in the bushes."

Text appeared on John's face.

He read it word by word but didn't understand it, as if he had lost the ability to read, his consciousness fluctuating in a swamp, trying desperately to mobilize his thinking ability…

[Task: Deserter (Complete)]

[Reward: Pandora Algorithm [B subset part - used], Messiah Alloy Skeleton - Igdrasir [experimental].]

John finally let out a sigh of relief.

Then.

He seemed to see a vast expanse of white light.

A terrifying burning sensation spread throughout his limbs, with sharp pain ranging from his chest cavity to his fingertips, as if a sharp blade was sliding through.

The doctor shifted to block the light.

He wore gloves and a dark green cap, with eyes consisting of implanted lenses of varying sizes.

The doctor straightened up; his arm curled, with the forearm endings containing various precision instrument devices.

The gray-black blade was tainted with thin lines of blood.

John watched as he grabbed the skin on his chest, the red, viscous flesh passing before him, as if something was inserted into his sternum, exposing his throbbing heart to the air.

He wished he could pass out.

More terrifying than the pain was the lack of control over his body.

No matter how vehement his usual undertakings, only when being manipulated wantonly did he recall his human sovereignty—knowing that the body undergoes terrifying events yet unable to prevent them; it's a torture more painful than death.

Anesthesia had a poor effect on John.

During the surgery, they continuously transfused and exchanged his blood and even mixed it with semi-cardiac pause techniques, eventually bringing his drug concentration below the threshold after a series of torments.

A drowsy feeling swept over him, liberating him from the horrific nightmare of being "skinned alive."

This sleep was uneasy.

"Postoperative day one, normal urination, all indicators are good."

Beep, beep, beep.

John felt thrown into a furnace, with pain burning from inside out, seeing new scenery and faces every time he woke up.

"... Compatibility is good, still stable for now."

"Is Igdrasir alright?"

"The transplantation process went frighteningly smoothly, with brain fluctuations not exceeding two standard units, stable like a circumcision. I once doubted if I had implanted the genuine part."

Beep, beep, beep.

Some device seemed to be buzzing.

In front of John's eyes, there was a white haze, with a respirator tube in his throat, and his body seemed soaked in sweat.

His back was hot and itchy, yet he couldn't speak or move.

Oulos visited again today.

She had been showing up frequently lately.

Everyone, including the surgical doctor, exhibited a slightly eerie concern for John.

"Is he truly having no rejection response? Are the devices normal, can the implants function properly?"

"The device signal is at full capacity, but application tests must wait until the patient wakes up. We've almost resurrected a corpse; he needs time to recover, right?"

John tried to gauge his situation through conversations.

It seamed he had been moved to an isolation ward for observation, and the derailment accident had taken place several days ago.

Beep, beep—

The damned equipment sounded endlessly.

John even experienced tinnitus, and the mental torture far exceeded the physical suffering. The good news was, he could move his fingers, though the other side of his body remained cold and numb.

Oulos was here again today.

"Have you investigated?"

"The diagnostic reports during the Tiebang Logistics period all…"

"I don't want that, it's inaccurate. Just keep John's last medical record before he left the company, from when he was fired…"

"... Randall."

"To our knowledge, nearly all of John's surgical modifications were conducted there, ma'am. We can't hack that clinic; its system is very solid. Shall we bring the doctor over?"

The person next to her reported to Oulos.

She paused for a moment, still deciding to pay. "No need for coercion; just send John's current status photos over and say we need the original diagnostic records for reference."

Beep—

John was drowsy, unable to withstand the endlessly repeating sound that seemed to follow a certain pattern.

He felt irritated upon hearing it, as though there was a fire in his chest.

Oulos and the surgical doctor were both present, continuing the previous conversation.

"The subcutaneous bruising anomaly matches what I observed during the surgery, the patient's body is indeed strange, especially the brain CT results…"

"What do you think?"

"I really can't figure out what situation would cause a person's body to be in this state."

"How's the implant?"

"Still showing no signs of rejection, even surpassing the laboratory measurements. Let me put it this way, this alloy skeleton seems almost custom-fit for John, seamlessly fitting."

"Trace the product source; I need experimental data."

...

John was breathing heavily.

He seemed to have just spaced out, and the conversation had ended, with the concepts of time and space flooding back into his mind.

This body seemed to be waking from its slumber.

Beep beep beep beep.

The equipment sounded incessantly.

John lifted an arm full of tubes and needles, pulling the long respiratory tube out from his throat.

Agony spread throughout his body, flesh and blood blurred, with the silver-red liquid soaking the sheets and even dripping to the floor, scaring the arriving medical personnel half to death…

"Ah! Hoo, hoo, hoo."

John shot up from the bed.

He touched his chest, looked at his arm, his mouth breathing properly, the previous scene seeming like a distant nightmare.

"You're finally awake."

Oulos sighed, drawing the curtains open.

Sunlight poured into the hospital room.

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