American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Chapter 88 Interrogation

Kowalski's Adam's apple slid violently.

"Fuck your 0.3 ml of liquid, push it in."

Kowalski's torso suddenly straightened in a posture that defied human biomechanics.

The screams began in the depths of the lungs, but before they could break through the vocal cords, they were forcibly cut off by a spasm in the neck muscles.

A high-frequency hissing sound was squeezed out from between the teeth, like a steel wire scraping against glass.

From the fingertips to the shoulder blade, every muscle fiber in my left arm was vibrating wildly.

Countless red-hot steel needles followed the nerve pathways, piercing through the carpal tunnel and brachial plexus inch by inch.

The skin on the left arm rapidly became red and then cyanotic due to increased blood flow. Subcutaneous veins bulged and throbbed like earthworms.

Seven seconds.

Kowalski's eyes rolled upwards, and the frenulum disappeared behind his upper eyelid.

A cold sweat broke out all over his body, and water instantly accumulated under the iron chair.

The back of his head slammed repeatedly against the backrest, producing a dull thud.

The absolute peak effect of the drug lasts for twelve seconds.

The frequency of ectopic discharges attenuates beyond the peak value.

Kowalski slumped into the iron chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

His breath broke into sobs, and his chest heaved erratically.

The left arm has lost its voluntary motor function, is twisted and hanging outside the armrest, with the five fingers half curled and half spread, and intermittent twitching.

Lynn lowered his gaze and stared at the arm that was spasming frequently.

An extremely subtle sense of dread, like an electric current piercing through the spine, exploded in Lynn's neural synapses.

His original intention was simply to efficiently gather intelligence and clear obstacles.

At that very moment, watching a tough guy who had undergone top-level stress resistance training collapse instantly due to the loss of control over 0.3 milliliters of sodium ion channels, Lynn truly felt the tangible reality of power.

This is far more fascinating than pointing a gun at someone's head.

He controls the biological switches of this body; he can accurately calculate the discharge frequency of each synapse.

This absolute dominance, which allowed him to manipulate the physiological mechanisms of his own kind, caused his brain to begin secreting addictive dopamine.

Thirty seconds later.

Kowalski struggled to lift his head.

His face was completely deformed: his conjunctiva was congested, his lips were bitten so deeply that they bled, and his facial muscles were twitching uncontrollably.

He stared intently at Lynn, his bloodshot eyes desperately holding onto the last vestige of his mental defenses.

"Ten years—I was shocked for forty-five minutes by a few scumbags with a modified stun gun."

His pronunciation was fragmented, interspersed with spasmodic, labored breathing.

"Your tricks are far from perfect."

He strained his facial muscles, attempting to strike a mocking pose.

The extremely fatigued muscle groups were completely unresponsive, leaving only bizarre, distorted faces from trembling.

Under the influence of hypertonic saline, the ulnar nerve swells up like a flattened earthworm, and it takes at least forty minutes for the osmotic pressure of the sheath to restore physiological balance.

This person's pain tolerance threshold far exceeds the normal limit.

"That's interesting," Lynn commented softly.

He put the syringe back in the instrument case and picked up the Cooley forceps with his other hand.

He then walked straight to the front, knelt on one knee, and positioned his eyes perfectly level with Kowalski's.

"The interrogators are responsible for inflicting pain and know nothing about how it works."

"Surgeons are different. We spend years, or even decades, understanding how every pain pathway in the human body is encoded, transmitted, transposed in the thalamus, and ultimately precisely projected to specific areas of the cerebral cortex."

He lifted Kowalski's left hand.

Acute damage to the ulnar nerve resulted in paralysis of all five fingers, with the hand resting on Lynn's palm like dead flesh.

"If we know how to stop pain, we naturally know even better how to amplify it to the extreme."

Lynn pressed his right thumb against the side of the second phalanx of Kowalski's ring finger, precisely pinpointing the anatomical path of the digital proper nerve.

Apply pressure simultaneously with your thumb and forefinger, slowly and firmly pressing downwards along the intercarpal spaces.

This goes beyond brutal physical compression.

This is a very standard surgical blunt dissection.

Using the fingertips to follow the natural fascial spaces, the different layers of adhered tissue are forcibly peeled off one by one.

The patient in the operating room is under deep general anesthesia and is completely unconscious.

Inside this abandoned factory, the conscious Kowalski is enduring the most extreme signals that the human pain system can encode.

Beneath the skin of his finger, Lynn's thumb was peeling the tendon away from the periosteum millimeter by millimeter with its force.

periosteum.

The tissue with the highest density of pain receptors in the human body.

More than two hundred free nerve endings are distributed per square millimeter.

The pain generated by the slow tearing of this connective tissue from the bone surface by external force is enough to instantly break through the processing limit of the pain center in the cerebral cortex, causing severe information overload.

The sound that erupted from Kowalski's throat was completely different from before.

Screaming requires the active involvement of the vocal cords.

This commotion originated from the more primal depths of the body, from the hoarse airflow squeezed out by the violent spasms of the diaphragm.

His feet were frantically kicking under the iron chains, and the heels of his leather shoes scraped fan-shaped, pale scratches on the cement floor.

All ten toes were bent backward to their physiological limit through the shoe.

His right hand gripped the iron chair armrest tightly, his fingernails digging into the rusted cracks, the edges of which cracked and bled.

Lynn maintained a precise pressure gradient with his fingers throughout.

The rhythm is steady, neither too fast nor too slow.

The first phalanx has been removed.

Lynn moved his thumb to the space between the second metacarpal bones of his middle finger, repeating the previous process.

That desire for control boiled over completely as the layers of peeling were gradually removed.

Lynn was even able to visualize the microscopic image of Kowalski's pain nerve endings tearing in his mind through the tactile sensation of his fingertips.

He was like a musician sitting in front of an organ, and with each key he pressed, he could extract phenomenal pain and harmony from his flesh and blood.

Kowalski's body was completely plunged into severe autonomic nervous system disorder.

After the child's pores expanded to an extreme, they instantly shrank to the size of a pinhead. Within five seconds, the breathing rate plummeted from forty breaths per minute to eight, then surged wildly to over fifty.

An extremely foul, putrid, sour smell wafted from between my teeth; it was the stench of high-concentration stomach acid reflux burning the esophageal wall.

Sachi leaned against the wall three steps away, arms crossed.

He has witnessed far too many horrific scenes in his life.

In a dark basement on the outskirts of Karl, a squad leader used red-hot steel bars to brand the soles of prisoners of war.

The "black cell" at Balam Air Force Base was used by a C1A contractor to drive a suspect insane with 48 hours of uninterrupted high-decibel white noise.

Those methods have a simple underlying logic, relying purely on brutal physical stimulation to forcibly flush out the pain threshold.

It's like smashing a walnut with a sledgehammer.

Lynn's current approach belongs to another dimension.

Those hands seemed to have X-ray vision, clearly seeing through every layer of fascia structure beneath the skin.

Each downward pressure, in terms of angle, depth, and duration, is like strictly following an anatomical atlas.

The hands that usually save lives now made Sachi feel suffocated.

He turned his head away, forcibly averting his gaze.

Lynn loosened her grip.

Kowalski's entire left hand was swollen beyond recognition, with extensive subcutaneous bruising staining his skin a mottled dark purplish-red.

"Who hired you to monitor that woman?"

>