The meticulously precise scientific language recorded an utterly fantastical diagnosis, yet it strangely aligned with reality and matched common sense.
Qi Si continued flipping through the remaining paper records with interest.
Dozens of pages in a row were test reports. They were full of scientific terms Qi Si couldn't understand, and arrows pointing up and down beside the test results—the patient's condition was not looking good.
Besides those, there were several black-and-white ultrasound images, covered in hastily scrawled symbols. Qi Si pretended to study them for two seconds, then gave up trying to make sense of them.
The test reports were arranged in chronological order, with minor examinations every three days and major ones every seven. The last date was [January 1, 2038].
This instance had undoubtedly been generated against the backdrop of reality, but its timeline had been pushed three years into the future.
Qi Si wasn't surprised. The Carnivore instance had already proved that reality and the game were connected somehow, and that timelines could be reversed, stretched, and scrambled.
He wasn't offended that the instance had woven his real information into its story. In fact, he found it rather interesting.
He had always kept a measured distance from the identity of "Qi Si" that he'd built in human society, like controlling a character in a 3D game from a third-person perspective.
He'd grown used to his original account's setup, but if he started over with an alt, changed his name and appearance, then apart from feeling a little uncomfortable for the first few days, he wouldn't feel any particular sadness.
At that moment, he detached himself from the situation and calmly analyzed it as an observer.
"From the clues we have, 'Qi Si' should have died of his illness three years ago. But someone, somehow, kept him