Seeing the white mouse dead on the operating table, Chen Cheng did not continue. After packing up the mouse's corpse, Chen Cheng stepped down from the operating table, then dug out those papers again and began reading them carefully.
In theory, since he had incorporated magic, its precision should have prevented failure. That was when he noticed an inconspicuous set of data and a conclusion in the paper.
The data itself was nothing worth looking at, but the conclusion drawn from it was quite interesting.
"During electrical stimulation, the number of neurons through which the current passes follows a chaotic model, making accurate numerical estimates impossible."
Although this sentence seemed insignificant, it was the true reason his attempts to use magic had failed time and time again.
Magic was too precise—especially after he had transformed it into a divine ability. It was practically an extension of his five senses.
He might not have been able to isolate and extract a single neuron, but he could control the range with extreme precision. It was precisely this accuracy that turned the uncertainty of electrical stimulation into certainty. The papers he had read, as well as the successful surgeries he had performed in practice, had all relied on that uncertainty.
Naturally, once it became certainty, the failure rate was effectively magnified.
After finding the cause, Chen Cheng began considering how to avoid the risk while ensuring the subject's survival.
Chen Cheng went through a series of brainstorming sessions, but in the end, he still could not think of a good solution.
It was not until he inadvertently saw the white mouse that had died during an earlier experiment and had yet to be cleaned up. Its head had begun to rot, and its entire brainstem was wrapped in a mass of putrefied fluid.