Only a Brain Left? Take Him Back and Make Him a Lotus Root Body!

Sing Sing took two steps forward, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Looking through the small window of the glass door, he thought the tank contained a mass of fat tissue that had been drained of water.

Only now could he see clearly what was actually soaking in it.

A complete human brain.

Dozens of high-frequency nerve conduction optical fibers are densely inserted between the grayish-white gyri and grooves of the brain.

The fiber optic cable is connected to a miniature suction pump on the base.

With each beat, a few strands of pale golden brainwave data surged upwards along the tube wall.

[Jacob Gavin Jr., born in May 1974, his Intrinsic Molecular Rearrangement gene has been extracted]

Sing Sing looked around.

The edge of the countertop was covered with semi-solidified dark red meat scraps and serrated bone fragments.

A chainsaw lay on the ground nearby.

The blood in the serrated edges hadn't dried completely yet; the work had only been done an hour or two ago at most.

"Braise..."

I'm late.

I fought my way through the containment tower in Utah, working non-stop for over thirty hours with dark circles under my eyes.

He even used the native alligators of Louisiana as stepping stones to trample them all over.

When he arrived at the basement of this dilapidated manor, all they left him was a plate of ingredients for the Nine-Turned Intestines dish?

Sing Sing took off his sunglasses, folded the temples, and put them in his breast pocket.

What the hell is going on...?

Sing Sing muttered a complaint under his breath, reached out and pinched the cigarette butt, now only containing the filter, out of his mouth, and stubbed it out on the stainless steel edge of the dissection table.

"These beasts, they ripped him bald, skin and bones, leaving only two pounds of their finely prepared offal to soak in formaldehyde here?"

"Is this really Jacob? Damn Silver Peak... How am I going to explain this to Remy?"

"Hey, comrade Brain in there, can you hear me? Waibi Babu? Calling headquarters?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the front of his brain, which was floating in the nutrient solution, suddenly twitched.

The blood vessels on the surface of the brain quickly became congested and bulged, and the entire brain began to writhe violently in the glass tank.

Does it understand human speech?

"Holy crap, they're really alive?!"

Sing Sing's pupils contracted.

These bastards actually used nutrient solutions and microcurrents to forcibly keep this brain active, allowing it to maintain peak pain sensation and consciousness?

"Don't shake! Don't shake! Your brain is about to turn into egg drop soup! Calm down! The most important thing for your brain is to have a stable mindset!"

Sing Sing quickly tried to dissuade him, pointing to his own nose in the process.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Stephen Zhou, Director of the Overseas Special Talent Recruitment Office of the 749 Bureau."

"I'm the Remy invited, the Gambit! That France who always wears a trench coat and twirls cards asked me to pick you up and take you back to his country for a grand feast."

Inside the glass tank, the brain that had been struggling frantically stopped twitching.

The violently pulsating blood vessels gradually calmed down, with only two small gyri at the front of the brain still trembling slightly.

Sing Sing turned his head to look at the electronic screen.

The chaotic brainwaves stretched out in a regular, jagged pattern.

Three short, three long, then three short again.

This is Morse code distress signal!

Sing Sing looked at the green line and felt a tightness in his chest.

He recalled Remy, now free of the mental imprint, sitting by the bed, his red eyes, tinged with a hint of flirtatious laughter, unusually earnest.

This was the first time Gambit had looked at him so seriously.

He couldn't bring Remy back to the fully recovered Jacob.

Sing Sing patted the outside of the glass tank, "Listen, buddy, even if you only have one brain left, you're coming back with me."

"We have many skilled people in our unit; rebuilding a usable physique for you shouldn't be a problem."

The brain in the glass jar twitched, seemingly stunned by this absurd argument.

"As long as you're not completely rotten, it's not impossible to get you a full titanium cybernetic body when we get back."

"What style do you like? If you think it's too heavy, we'll make one for you using fresh, tender lotus root, just like Nezha's. It's green, eco-friendly, and edible—you'll be satisfied!"

The brain in the glass tank released a string of small bubbles, slowly sinking to the bottom and then floating back up in the nutrient solution.

It's clear from any perspective that a desperate working person has been completely silenced by an outrageous plan.

Pig Butchering Knife appeared in his hand.

He couldn't simply unplug the optical fibers inserted into his brain.

First of all, he doesn't understand this thing.

Secondly...

What if the external power supply and these lines are cut off simultaneously, instantly turning Jacob's remaining consciousness into that of an idiot?

The miniature life pump, along with its base, must be cut off without the slightest vibration from the blade.

"Bear with it, my hands have never trembled before..."

Sing Sing murmured something, his Inner Qi flowing gently along the meridians of his right arm, compressing at the edge of the blade.

The Blade is attached to the base.

Sizzle...

Three seconds later, the Pig Butchering Knife was sheathed.

Sing Sing held the life support tank in his arms, looking worried and distressed.

What should I do?

Wenxi's Mini Dimensional Box cannot contain living creatures.

Lao Zhou never tried putting anything alive inside.

Is this brain injury classified as a level one disability, or a level two injury from a frozen food processing plant?

If you stuff a living person's brain in there, and it comes out as "brain dead cold brew," Remy will definitely fight him to the death.

Remembering the look on Wenxi's face when he handed him the new Mini Dimensional Box, Lao Zhou gave up his plan to conduct the experiment.

He pulled out a green canvas military satchel, with five large, bright red characters printed on it. "Serve the People."

Lao Zhou carefully placed the jar inside.

After confirming that the size was right, he then put the bag on his shoulder.

"The same skin worn by educated youth during their time in the countryside—a nostalgic, retro style that'll give you a huge sense of security, right?"

Sing Sing Chow tapped the top of the jar with his index finger, and the brain inside shook as if in response.

After confirming that everything was correct, Old Zhou put his sunglasses back on.

This eerie and ghostly place is filled with a perverse atmosphere.

Now that the core objective has been achieved, all that's left is to quickly recoup the losses.

They had only taken a few steps when a languid and elegant female voice softly rang out.

"Mr. Zhou. Stephen Zhou, it seems you're quite satisfied with this little gift I specially left behind?"

"I specifically referenced your footage from the containment tower to describe how you dismember a living person."

The woman's tone was harsh, like a viper's hiss.

"Watching your target being dismantled like this using your 'signature technique'... my beloved chef from the East, doesn't your heart clench with sorrow?"

Sing Sing stood still.

He slowly reached out and pressed down the brim of his hat, without saying a word.

"Miss Sinister? Claudine Lenco?"

Unsurprisingly, this crazy woman had been observing from the shadows all along.

Miss Sinister chuckled softly.

"Don't waste your time looking for my signal source; I'm not even in Louisiana."

"This place has been an abandoned junkyard for the past three days."

Sing Sing sneered:

"Stop pretending to be some elegant, powerful woman. Your monthly roaming charges must be pretty expensive, right?" "With that spare money, you should pay your plumber. The basement is leaking like a public bathhouse."

"A sharp-toothed Hound."

Miss Sinister wasn't annoyed; in fact, Lao Zhou even noticed the morbid pleasure emanating from her.

"To thank you for helping me get rid of those defective products, I've prepared a little gift for you this time~"