He took a deep breath and tried to channel sky blue aura into his other arm, which he could still move.
The instant the thought arose, sky-blue light shimmered in the countless capillaries inside his arm, as though it had received a powerful boost.
He looked at his left hand, then reached over and grasped it, as though he had made some sort of decision...
He gripped his own hand, then squeezed violently, trying to crush it.
At that moment, "Primal contamination" began flowing through his left arm. His body's instincts drove it to convert the "primal contamination" into sky blue aura, but he forcibly stopped it through sheer will!
Finally, with a crack!, he crushed his own hand.
What he found strange was that, whether his subconscious had blocked out the pain or had accepted his current state of "absolute rationality" and "indifference," he felt no pain whatsoever after crushing his hand. It felt as unremarkable as crushing a plastic bottle.
He had no time to dwell on it and quickly glanced at his hand.
"It really worked."
In this environment where time had almost "stopped," the strip of flesh had yet to react. The deformation caused by crushing his hand had therefore created a tiny gap between his ruined hand and the flesh.
His calculations had produced a real result, yet he felt no joy at it, as though he had merely obtained the result he ought to have.
He glanced impassively at the strip of flesh around his hand. He could now clearly see its inner wall.
The inner wall was covered in fine, fuzzy, fibrous blood vessels, like countless tiny suckers. The moment they were exposed to the air, they began to writhe.
He knew it would soon fill the gap between the flesh and his