The cold claw behind her neck didn't loosen its grip at all; instead, it tightened its hold, pulling on her cervical spine and dragging her out of the workshop like a dead dog.
"Go! Go to number 17 right now!" The foreman's hoarse voice exploded right next to my ear, accompanied by crackling static.
Jiang Chan stumbled, her nascent desire to resist suppressed by the excruciating pain and suffocation. She could only tilt her head as much as possible to minimize the stress on her cervical spine, as she was forcibly dragged out of the roaring assembly line workshop.
The cold lights in the corridor were more glaring than those in the workshop, and the smell of disinfectant in the air was more pungent.
The door to prosthetic testing room number 17 was made of heavy metal, with peeling gray paint on it. The supervisor pushed her towards the door and swiped his access card on the access control.
laugh--
The airlock door slid open, and a rush of colder air, mixed with metal and medical disinfectant, rushed out, making Jiang Chan shiver.
The interior space was small, resembling an enlarged metal coffin. The walls were made of cold alloy panels, with several metal boxes embedded with indicator lights of different colors, and several thick and thin cables hanging down from the ceiling.
In the very center stood a hard metal recliner, with various probes and restraint straps attached to it. A man in a gray overalls and glasses sat behind a control panel in the corner, not even looking up. His hair was a little messy, and his glasses reflected the light from the screen.
"D-734, abnormal energy fluctuations, conduct in-depth investigation." The foreman pushed Jiang Chan forward, gave a cold and harsh instruction, turned around and left. The air pressure door slammed shut behind him, completely isolating him from the outside noise.
Jiang Chan stumbled forward two steps before regaining her balance. The only sounds in the testing room were the low hum of the instruments and the tapping of the technician's keyboard.
"Number." The technician didn't even look up, his fingers flying across the virtual keyboard.
“D-734.” Jiang Chan tried her best to make her voice sound weak and trembling, like a broken machine that might fall apart at any moment.
"Lie down." The technician finally lifted his eyelids, his eyes behind the lenses devoid of emotion, like looking at meat on a chopping board.
Jiang Chan moved to the cold metal recliner and stiffly climbed onto it. The hard metal hurt her back.
She had just lain down when, with a few clicks, cold metal rings automatically popped out from her wrists, ankles, and waist, fastening her firmly to the chair.
Buzz—
A huge, pot-lid-like metal device descended from above, hovering about ten centimeters above her body. Several blue scanning beams shot out from the edge of the pot lid, slowly moving down from above her head.
Where the beam of light swept, the cheap artificial skin beneath the skin involuntarily tightened, and the metal parts that had been forcibly inserted began to ache as if disturbed insects, especially the cervical spine interface and that damned bionic lung in the chest cavity.
[Buzz... Depth scan initiated. Biosignal capture in progress... Prosthetic conflict detection in progress... Warning: Abnormal neural signal fluctuations detected...]
A long string of dense data streams and red warning boxes instantly appeared on the console screen. The technician frowned and typed faster.
Jiang Chan's heart leaped into her throat. Scan! Deep scan! What if it detects the system in her mind? Or discovers the energy fluctuations she just actively guided?
[Host, there is no need to panic. This system is in a state of high-dimensional superposition, undetectable by current dimensional technology. Please maintain the state of disordered biosignals and simulate a normal loss of control.]
The system's cold voice echoed in my mind, carrying a strange sense of stability.
Simulated loss of control? Jiang Chan immediately understood. She began to relax her body, making the existing pain and conflict signals more pronounced.
As the scanning beam swept across her left chest, she cooperated by causing the bionic lung to twitch violently, letting out a suppressed, painful groan uncontrollably from her throat, and her body twisted slightly under the restraints.
[WARNING: Intermittent failure of the bionic lung power unit in the left thoracic cavity!]
[WARNING: There is a periodic conflict between bioelectrical signals and the C7 spinal nerve interface!]
A new red warning immediately popped up on the screen.
The technician adjusted his glasses and muttered, "It's just another pile of junk." He seemed unfazed by this "routine instability," focusing more on the conflicting data as his fingers rapidly typed commands on the virtual keyboard. The scanning beam swept back and forth across her body several times.
As Jiang Chan continued to "perform" her pain and loss of control, she took the opportunity to quickly scan the narrow, cold room with her eyes.
A thick cable hanging from the ceiling connects to a metal box full of ports in the corner, which should be one of the main nodes connected to the company's intranet.
On the wall next to the door, there was a palm-sized screen embedded in the wall, displaying several winding, map-like colored lines and a few flashing dots.
That's... a network distribution map? Although she couldn't understand it, Jiang Chan memorized the location of the screen and the shapes of several key light spots on it.
Several abandoned pieces of equipment were piled up in the corner, covered with a thick layer of dust.
Behind the console, the technician seemed a bit frustrated. He slammed his fingers on the keyboard and complained into the communicator, "...Alright, I got it! This damn synchronization period is almost here, the new sample data isn't even finished being processed, and now a bunch of junk bugs are popping up to troubleshoot! It's driving me crazy!"
Synchronization period!
Jiang Chan's ears immediately perked up. Was the technician referring to the "large-scale data synchronization" task in the system? There were still over six days left in the countdown; it seemed the company was already preparing internally. Would the system load be enormous?
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