Testing the Limits

Inside the Game Room, Lin Mo slowly released his grip, but the girl's hand remained where it was, as though she did not understand what to do next.

Lin Mo picked up a relatively intact fragment of a red building block from the floor and placed it in her palm.

"This one's broken."

The girl looked down at the fragment.

"Be gentler next time."

Although she said nothing, she quietly held on to the fragment without crushing it again.

The first contact experiment lasted only twenty minutes.

Afterward, whether the researchers brought in new blocks, stuffed toys, or picture books, the girl showed no clear interest. She remained seated very close to Lin Mo.

Occasionally, she looked at her own hand, then at Lin Mo's wrist, as though repeatedly making sure he had not been hurt by their earlier contact.

When the scheduled experiment time ended, an instruction came through the speaker.

"SOL-0, stand up."

Lin Mo looked up at the Observation Window. It seemed time was up, and they were sending him away.

"Today's activity is over."

"Please proceed to the exit."

He did not move immediately. The blonde girl also raised her head, following his gaze toward the glass.

Lin Mo knew Vought was observing her reaction to separation.

Refusing to leave would only cause trouble, so he did not linger. Besides, he had already achieved his goal for the day.

He rose from the carpet and brushed the bits of broken blocks off his clothes.

The girl remained seated, merely tilting her face up to look at him. Her eyes betrayed her reluctance to let him go, but she still did not move.

Lin Mo walked toward the doorway, and a metal isolation door slowly opened.

A caregiver stood outside without entering the Game Room, simply gesturing for him to come out.

Lin Mo stepped across the threshold. Behind him, the girl did not lash out, chase after him, or break anything.

The monitoring data showed that although her heart rate had risen, it remained within manageable limits.

The researchers in the Observation Room visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Initial contact successful."

"Joanna displayed no aggressive behavior."

"Recommend additional repeat experiments."

"Assess the feasibility of Lin Mo providing long-term companionship."

Vogelbaum smiled as well, but before he could wrap things up, an unexpected voice rang out.

Lin Mo heard the metal door behind him begin to close, but he did not turn around.

Only when a narrow gap remained did a voice suddenly emerge from the Game Room.

The pronunciation was awkward, as though she had not spoken in a long time and was not even sure how to say the word.

"Come back."

Lin Mo stopped in his tracks. The caregiver froze for a moment as well.

Inside the Observation Room, everyone turned toward the surveillance feed at once.

The blonde girl was still sitting on the colorful carpet, holding the broken red block in her hand.

Through the shrinking gap in the door, her pale eyes remained fixed on Lin Mo's retreating back.

It was simply the most basic request a three-year-old child could express.

Lin Mo turned back. Through the slowly closing door, he looked at the girl who might one day become Homelander.

Then he gave a small nod.

"Okay."

The metal door closed completely, but every researcher behind the glass had heard them clearly.

This was the first time Joanna had asked for someone to return of her own accord, without being instructed.

Joanna's first spontaneous request for someone to come back caused a far greater stir in the research wing than Lin Mo had anticipated.

During the six hours following the first contact experiment, the researchers retrieved footage from every camera angle in the room.

Everything was analyzed frame by frame, from Joanna's gait as she entered the Game Room, to the changes in the force exerted by each finger when she grabbed Lin Mo's wrist, to the shifts in her heart rate, pupils, and brain waves after their contact.

A preliminary report was delivered to Vogelbaum's office that very evening.

Its conclusion was clear.

Lin Mo's presence significantly reduced Joanna's state of alertness.

Throughout their contact, Joanna displayed no unprovoked aggressive behavior.

After Lin Mo's verbal guidance, she even demonstrated conscious control over her strength for the first time. More importantly, when the experiment ended, Joanna showed a clear stress response to separation.

She neither damaged the room nor attacked the staff because of the separation, but instead verbally expressed her wish for Lin Mo to return.

For a test subject who had long refused to communicate and could not form stable relationships, this was nothing short of a breakthrough.

"It's not that she can't connect with people."

Frank, the head of the behavioral psychology research team, stood in the conference room and addressed the video on the screen. "She simply can't maintain physical contact with ordinary people."

The screen was playing footage of Joanna touching Lin Mo's wrist for the third time.

The first time, she had used enough force to crush an adult's bones.

The second time, she had reduced her strength. The third time, she had merely touched him lightly with her fingertips.

"Ordinary caregivers can't withstand her process of trial and error."

Frank continued, "They get scared. They retreat. They ask to end contact after being injured."

"The feedback Joanna receives is always wrong. She doesn't know why the other person is afraid, nor can she understand what she's done wrong."

"But Lin Mo is different."

The footage froze at the moment Lin Mo took her hand of his own accord.

"His defensive abilities give them both enough room for trial and error. He can withstand Joanna's initial strength while providing feedback through his words and expressions."

Vogelbaum sat at the head of the long table, lightly tapping his fingers against its surface.

"You also think we should continue contact?"

"Yes."

"How frequently?"

"We don't recommend making it too frequent for now."

Frank replied, "Joanna has only just begun to take an interest in Lin Mo. Excessive contact could create dependency or cause the experimental variables to spiral out of control."

"My recommendation is to conduct a second contact session first, then decide what comes next based on the results."

Vogelbaum was in a good mood, but he did not agree immediately. Instead, he specifically sought the others' opinions.

He looked toward Marty, the researcher responsible for safety assessments, on the other side of the table.

"What do you think about the risks?"

"Manageable at present."

Marty considered for a moment before saying unhurriedly, "Lin Mo's formidable defenses are an advantage. He suffered no actual injury, and Joanna showed no hostility toward his abilities. That's certainly a good thing."

"However, I suggest introducing an element of competition in the second experiment."

"Competition?" Vogelbaum frowned and asked, sounding puzzled.

"Ownership of an object, for instance." Marty pulled up another document.

"Joanna has shown a clear attachment to a blue blanket. Previously, when caregivers tried to remove it from her room, she displayed severe aggression."

"We could place the blanket in the Game Room and observe whether Lin Mo touching it triggers a protective response or a struggle over possession."

The conference room fell briefly silent.

Barbara, who had remained quiet at the side, frowned. Vogelbaum could only continue trying to reason with Marty.

"That could damage the relationship they've only just begun to form."

"Every relationship has to undergo stress testing."

Rather than arguing, Marty continued, "Vought can't settle for knowing they get along in a stable environment."

"But what if things change? We need to establish whether Joanna will attack Lin Mo when there's competition over resources—or whether Lin Mo can truly fulfill this role and become someone Joanna can depend on."