Super Senses Acquired

The combined effect was not 1 + 1 = 2—it was an exponential increase.

He needed this ability.

Desperately.

But there was one problem—this operation was far more complicated than Batman's had been.

Batman's surgery had been urgent, but it had essentially been trauma treatment: remove the dagger, detoxify, stop the bleeding, suture the wound.

Those had all been physical procedures that could be handled with scalpels and forceps.

Daredevil was different.

His injuries were in his nervous system—the auditory nerves, vestibular system, and sensory circuits.

Repairing those required micrometer-level, perhaps even nanometer-level precision. An ordinary surgeon could never accomplish it in a lifetime.

But he had All-Things Diagnosis and Super Intelligence.

The system provided guidance, and his brain provided the dexterity.

Would that be enough?

He didn't know.

But if he didn't try, this copying window would close forever.

Lynn stepped forward and crouched, placing one hand on Daredevil's shoulder.

"Don't move," he said.

Daredevil's body jolted—the sensory system was collapsing, and every incoming signal had become chaotic noise and shrieking.

Lynn touching his shoulder was probably amplified dozens of times by his nervous system, as if someone had stabbed a knife into his skin.

"Ungh—don't touch me—" Daredevil struggled, trying to push Lynn away.

Even in this state, his hand still reached precisely for Lynn's wrist—his fighting instincts were carved into his bones.

But he was far too weak now. Lynn pinned him down effortlessly.

"I'm a doctor." Lynn lowered his voice and made every word clear and forceful. "Your sensory nerves are being burned away. If you aren't treated, they'll never recover after three and a half hours."

Daredevil's struggle paused.

"How... do you know..." His voice was hoarse and broken, each word seeming to take all his strength.

"Because I'm a good doctor." Lynn hoisted him up.

The original owner's body was not particularly strong, but Daredevil was practically incapable of resisting now. Carrying him was strenuous, but not impossible.

"Now shut up and save your strength. You have a little over three hours left."

He carried Daredevil out of the alley and back into the clinic.

The operating lamp came on.

The operating table was cleared.

The instruments were sterilized.

Lynn placed Daredevil on the operating table and checked his vital signs.

His heart rate was high but still controllable. His blood pressure was low. His pupils—he was blind, so his pupillary reflexes were abnormal to begin with. That metric was useless.

A treatment plan was already flashing on the System Panel.

Lynn took a deep breath.

He stared at the plan for three seconds.

A four-hour operation.

Repairing the burned sensory nerve circuits one by one.

The required precision was at the micrometer level.

This would be the most difficult operation he had performed since crossing over.

He rolled the sleeves of his white coat up to his elbows and put on gloves.

"Three and a half hours," he muttered to himself. "Enough."

The operation began at nine thirty in the evening.

Lynn used modified microelectrodes as his primary tools—

They were normally used for electroencephalogram tests in proper hospitals, but he had sharpened their tips until they were nearly invisible to the naked eye.

They had become miniature repair needles capable of precise work between nerve fibers.

All-Things Diagnosis's X-ray view fully unfolded before his eyes.

Daredevil's sensory nervous system was displayed in its entirety—like an incredibly dense three-dimensional circuit diagram.

Normal neural circuits were blue. The portions being burned away were red. The necrotic portions were gray.

The red was spreading rapidly.

Before the gray swallowed the blue, he had to repair every red circuit one by one.

Step one: stabilize the inner-ear environment.

Using a puncture needle so fine it was nearly invisible, Lynn entered through the temporal bone behind Daredevil's ear and relieved the pressure in the semicircular canal lymph fluid.

The required precision was extremely high—one millimeter off, and he would hit the facial nerve, causing permanent facial paralysis.

In his mind, he simulated the consequences of every micrometer of the needle's advance in real time.

Three minutes later, the lymph fluid pressure had fallen from 4.7 times the normal level to 1.3 times.

The spasms in Daredevil's face visibly eased.

Step two: repair the auditory nerves.

This was the most time-consuming part.

The hair cells in the Organ of Corti—the critical structures responsible for converting sound-wave vibrations into neural signals—had suffered widespread necrosis.

Complete regeneration was impossible, but Lynn could use microcurrents to stimulate the remaining stem cells into differentiating.

At the same time, he used microelectrodes to rebuild the severed neural connections.

One by one.

He never counted how many he repaired.

He only knew there were just two sounds beneath the operating lamp: the beeping of the cardiac monitor and his own steady breathing.

Step three: repair the tactile and olfactory circuits.

This was even more complicated than the auditory system—because Daredevil's sensory system was not simply an amplified version of an ordinary person's, but an entirely different information-processing architecture.

The density of tactile receptors across his skin was twenty-three times that of an ordinary person, while his olfactory epithelial cells possessed forty-seven additional types of receptors.

Those abnormal sensory organs and receptors formed an information-gathering network of terrifying precision.

Repairing it required understanding how it worked—and that was precisely what Super Intelligence did best.

Time passed second by second.

One in the morning.

Three and a half hours had passed.

About 15% of the red areas on the System Panel remained untreated.

But the threshold for irreversible damage had been avoided—the critical core circuits had all been repaired.

The remaining non-core portions could slowly recover through Daredevil's own healing ability.

Two in the morning.

The last olfactory nerve circuit was repaired.

Lynn stepped back and removed his gloves.

Throughout the operation that had lasted more than four hours, his hands had not trembled once.

But his back was already soaked with sweat.

A golden notification popped up on the System Panel—

[Ding! Treatment complete! Rating: SS · Excellent!]

[Saintly Hands Copy activated... Scanning target ability database...]

[Core talent detected: Super Senses (A+ Rank)]

[Based on treatment contribution level (SS Rank), automatically copying the highest-quality talent—]

[Target: Super Senses (A+ Rank)]

[Copy progress: 15%... 42%... 69%... 100%!]

[Ding! Copy complete! Acquired A+ Rank talent: Super Senses (Incomplete Version · 75%)!]

[Ability details: Hearing, smell, touch, and other sensory abilities increased to more than twenty times those of an ordinary person. Can detect microscopic environmental information. Some advanced perception abilities have not yet been unlocked.]

The instant the information flooded in, Lynn's body swayed sharply.

He grabbed the edge of the instrument table—not from pain, but because the world had suddenly changed.

Sound.