Infinite weird games

Chapter 57 Dialectical Game (2) Death Record

Meticulous scientific descriptions recorded a rather fantasy diagnosis. Qisi raised his eyebrows slightly: "You want to tell me that I have died of an illness and am experiencing hallucinations at the moment of death, right?"

He continued to look through the remaining paper records with interest.

Dozens of them were inspection report sheets, with various scientific terms written on them that Zeiss could not understand, and up and down arrows drawn after inspecting the data. Common sense can be used to judge that the patient's physical condition is not optimistic.

In addition, there are several ultrasound images in black, white and gray, with various symbols filled with scrawled writing. Chiss pretended to look at it for two seconds before giving up on understanding it.

The inspection report is arranged in chronological order, maintaining the frequency of one inspection every three days and one inspection every seven days. The last date is [January 1, 2038].

"It seems that the timeline of this dungeon is three years after the real world. Will someone spend three years on me? What a wonderful setting..."

Qisi shook his head, picked up the last page, and scanned the text on it:

[The vital signs of clone No. 9 are normal, and various data such as conditioned reflexes and brain wave responses are consistent with those of the parent. Dimensional data such as intelligence level, way of thinking, and behavioral choices are yet to be measured. 】

[No soul fluctuations have been detected yet, but combined with relevant data, it cannot be immediately determined that the cultivation failed. It is recommended to observe it for three days before deciding whether to destroy it. 】

Zis put down the page and looked down at his right cuff, where the word "9" was written in red pen.

He turned his head and looked back. The number "9" on the surface of the huge glass jar behind him was bright and dazzling.

"So, I am not 'Zis', I am just a clone numbered '9', and the meaning of my existence is to cultivate the soul of 'Zis'?"

Qisi understood the background setting of this dungeon almost immediately, and couldn't help but click his tongue: "It's so malicious to use the real background to generate the dungeon... But I don't think anyone would be so boring and still do it after I die. You are trying so hard to bring this scumbag back into the world."

He put the paper back in its place, stepped on the cold tiles with his bare feet, stood up and walked towards the thing on the right wall that was covered by a black canvas.

There is such a large amount of stuff that cannot be explained without some key clues. I would be sorry for myself if I didn’t search it.

Zeiss pulled back the canvas, revealing a row of bottles and jars underneath. Huge glass jars with a diameter of one meter are placed closely together and arranged neatly, with the numbered side facing outward, and the numbers "1" to "8" are written in red pen in sequence.

These jars are all empty, with more or less a piece of the liquid inside missing. It is conceivable that something was soaked in it before, but later those things were fished out and never put back.

Combining the previously discovered clues, Ziss was able to determine that what was originally in these jars were "clones" like his, eight of his predecessors who were destroyed due to "failure to cultivate".

Suddenly there was a "click" sound behind the ear, the sound of a key being inserted into the keyhole, and then the sound of the doorknob turning.

Qisi reacted very quickly. He turned over and threw himself on the operating table. He smoothly turned off the lights and lay down with his eyes closed, pretending to be dead.

"Squeak——"

The iron door of the room was pushed open, and messy footsteps filed in, forming a circle around the bed.

Because Qisi had his eyes closed, it was difficult to estimate how many people had come in. He only knew that there must be a lot of people, and there was a high probability that he would not be able to escape.

"It seems that No. 9 woke up early." A deep male voice came from the door. "He consciously explores the surrounding environment and can choose the best plan in an emergency. He is closer to the mother's body than the previous ones."

There was a "rustling" sound as the pen tip rubbed against the page, as if someone was taking notes.

Chiss remembered that his body was covered with mucus such as nutrient solution, leaving footprints when he walked around, so it was reasonable for him to be seen through.

He simply opened his eyes and sat up, smiled and said hello: "Hello everyone, I wonder what time it is now?"

No one paid attention to him. After one person made eye contact with him, the corner of his eye twitched, as if he saw something ugly.

"Am I disfigured? Or... am I something strange in the eyes of these people?" Qiss guessed, pursed his lips and kept quiet, conveying a cooperative attitude.

There were nine doctors in white coats standing in the room. Looking at their muscular physiques, none of them could beat him. I don’t know how many times they experienced doctor-patient conflicts before they made an evolution that was so consistent with Lamarck’s theory.

Two young doctors quickly stepped forward and held Qiss down. They took out handcuffs from their large pockets and cuffed his hands behind his back.

This set of moves is extremely skillful and seems to have been performed many times. Judging from the plot, it must have been practiced on the eight unlucky seniors before.

Ziss remained motionless and allowed these people to transfer him to the wheelchair and fix it with restraint straps. At the same time, he moved his eyes without leaving a trace and scanned every face.

It's difficult to see the specific faces of these people through the masks, but you can still tell some information just by looking at their eyebrows.

For example, their expressions were a little too cold, not like doctors saving lives, but like researchers playing with mice.

People in white coats came forward one after another. Some used lancets to collect blood, some used thermometer guns to measure temperature, and some measured blood pressure and heart rate. There are many steps, but they are methodical.

Data was reported one by one, and someone took a pen to record it skillfully.

Qisi knew that he was in a weak position, and he would be the one to suffer in the end if something happened.

He simply regarded himself as a lump of inorganic matter, staring at the ceiling with a bleak expression, and let the people in white coats fiddle with it. When they were almost busy, he tentatively asked: "Guys, I can ask... Where is this?"

No one responded, no one even gave him an extra look.

Qisi felt bored and once again felt the malice of this copy.

His best methods are based on words, but these people refuse to communicate with him, they simply have no martial ethics...

The men in white coats finally finished what they were doing and pushed the wheelchair with Zis tied up and walked out of the room.

Outside the room is a long and narrow corridor that extends to both sides with no end in sight. Department doors are embedded in the wall like tombstones, leaving only a faint crack.

The light tube above the head sheds white light, and the metallic white walls reflect the light. The high-brightness light fills every corner, squeezing the shadows that should exist into the gaps, and projecting a light gray shadow like fly wings.

This place is said to be a hospital, but more like a research institute, the kind where crazy experiments are conducted.

The people in white coats, or researchers, flattened the wheelchair and fixed it. Only then did Zeiss realize that the wheelchair turned out to be a folded hospital bed, which was not unfolded only to adapt to the narrowness of the previous room.

The hospital bed was pushed forward quickly, and the body swayed with the bumps, before being pulled back to its original position by the restraint belt. The cloth pinched into the joints and tightly bound the ankles, knees, waist, abdomen and neck, making Lederzis unable to breathe.

He couldn't move, so he could only lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, counting the devices embedded in it.

Square lights, square lights, vents, square lights, round lights…

The hospital bed stopped, and the researcher next to him reported in a smooth tone that reported good news but not bad news: "Dean, No. 9 is emotionally stable and has not shown aggression for the time being. His speech and behavior are more human-like. I think we are close to success." Far."

"But he still has no soul." A young voice sighed, "Don't take it lightly. I know him. He is very good at pretending to be harmless and then delivering a fatal blow from behind."

...Don't tell me, you do know me very well.

For no reason, Qiss felt that the man's voice sounded familiar, and the conclusion was readily available, which made him suspect that it was a scam.

He struggled, adjusting the angle of his neck, trying to look in the direction of the sound.

"There are still three days of observation period, so he may not fail this time. All aspects of his data are consistent with the mother body. If it is not soulless..."

A young voice interrupted: "But as long as he has no soul, he is nothing."

After struggling for a while, Qis finally raised his head. After seeing the appearance of the so-called "dean", he couldn't hold back and laughed out loud.

He was laughing so hard that he was out of breath. Because the movements were too large, his face turned red and white due to the restraint belt around his neck.

The air choked into his trachea, and he coughed crazily, coughing out a few words as if he was coughing up blood: "It's been so...long...no...see you..."

Thanks to Hua Qingshui for the 100,000-point reward! The leader of the alliance is mighty, and I will give you an update today! Thanks to the Pig Pen Madman for the 3,000-point reward, thanks to the family boss for the 4,900-point reward, and thanks to Xiaoxin for the 100-point reward for his daily reading! Thanks to Wan Shitong, Chu Yu, Book Friends 20210904174046487, and Varner for their monthly votes!

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