Hua Gang had fallen into a deep sleep, like a vegetable, unable to wake up.
Pan Yisheng examined him again and again, then finally shook his head.
MRI, CT scans, electrocardiograms, ultrasounds... every possible examination had been done.
From head to toe, inside and out, there was nothing abnormal.
Yet he remained unconscious.
He could only ask the director, "What do we do now? Hua Gang seems to have become a vegetable."
"It seems that even as the source of miracles, he receives no special treatment. That suggests the Backstage Black Hand likely has no human empathy—or perhaps there is no Backstage Black Hand at all," the director said, shaking his head.
They claimed they wanted him to make some subconscious film, but in reality, they were using people as lab rats.
But what principle lay behind the director's devices that could connect to the Dream World? Pan Yisheng sympathized with Hua Gang for three seconds, but he also knew this was beyond his ability to interfere with.
But just because he did not want to interfere did not mean trouble would not come looking for him.
"Doctor Pan, you've spent more time with him than anyone else. We'd like to invite you to be the protagonist of the next sequel. Will you agree, or accept?"
"I accept." Pan Yisheng instinctively chose the second option. By the time he realized both choices meant the same thing, it was already too late.
Two burly assistants appeared behind the director and dragged him onto a hospital bed.
Sensors were attached, and the computer was connected.
"Let me go! I don't want this! I refuse! You can't do this! This violates my free will!"
"For the Alliance!" The director flipped a switch. As an electric current ran through him, Pan Yisheng was forced