Amid this frenzied, chaotic transformation, Norman's consciousness seemed to fall into a twisted vortex, while Connors's figure kept emerging in his mind like a ghost.
Connors—the man who had once left a deep mark on his life, even the one who could be said to have pushed him into his current state—had now become the vessel for a complicated emotion buried deep within him.
Back then, beneath Connors's shadow, Norman might have felt lost and unwilling, but more than anything, he had harbored a suppressed rage.
Now, however, he was undergoing an unprecedented transformation. Both his body and soul were changing beyond recognition.
A powerful urge surged within him. He wanted to prove his madness and strength to Connors. He wanted Connors to see with his own eyes that Norman was no longer someone to be manipulated at will.
Norman imagined the expression on Connors's face when he saw what he had become. It would surely be shock, fear, perhaps even disbelief.
At that thought, a twisted thrill rose within him, as though this fantasy alone could give him the upper hand in the coming confrontation.
His body continued its violent transformation. His bones creaked and groaned as if bearing tremendous pressure, yet they were constantly being reshaped and reinforced.
His once relatively normal skeleton grew increasingly thick and sturdy, as though forged from steel. Every bone contained terrifying power.
His muscles rapidly swelled like balloons, their developed lines clearly visible, like a work of art carefully carved by a master sculptor—yet brimming with savagery and violence.
His height continued to increase as well. The laboratory ceiling above the top of his head trembled on the verge of collapse, as though he might break through it at any moment.
With every bit taller he grew, his confidence and arrogance increased