Looking at the silvery-white orb in his hand, no bigger than an egg, Gu Chen still could not help asking.
"Is this thing reliable?"
"There's nothing we can do about it. This is the result of thirteen iterations. If it doesn't work, then the two of us can only start over along with it."
Clearly, neither of them had any confidence in this.
The first Experiment Zero could only return roughly five seconds into the past for a brief moment.
But Experiment One had directly increased that to five minutes.
Experiment Two was even more terrifying, lasting a full half day.
But it was extremely unstable. The moment time and space were reversed, it might end up somewhere unknown, then be torn apart by temporal turbulence—not killed by some deadly place or person, but genuinely shredded by space and time.
The later experiments reached increasingly longer periods of time, but they were always accompanied by all sorts of accidents, no longer limited by spatial distance.
The method of pulling those test subjects back was also simple.
He only needed to reverse them back using a stronger grasp of time and space.
And he alone would bear the backlash.
A ruptured heart, a damaged body.
Mere fatal wounds.
Nothing worth worrying about.
"It's fine. I don't value my own life that much, because before I reach my goal, even if I truly die, I'll crawl out of my grave."
"Let's begin. Even if it fails, I've already done my best. Just don't send me even farther through time."
After briefly shielding the Sea of Consciousness, Gu Chen changed clothes, swapping black for white. There was no need for anything flashy; black or white would do.
Holding that "egg," he turned and prepared to leave for good.
But at that moment, a