Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

After the pain subsided, Gordon felt refreshed and clear-headed, and the drowsiness and mental stress of the night disappeared without a trace.

This is the source substance.

Winslow said that the Source Matter might be related to the overflowing matter of the Realm of Truth, and could have a huge impact on reality. If humanity merged with it, it might have the opportunity to ascend to the Realm of Truth. At the time, Gordon only memorized the key points and never imagined that one day it would happen to him.

An unbroken string! Gordon stretched his body.

It was indeed as if a thread was controlling my entire body, and I was no longer burdened by the delay in nerve and muscle responses.

Rotate your wrist, raise and lower your hand, take two steps... It's flexible and smooth, as smooth as silk.

The ability to precisely control every muscle and every nerve, pushing precision to its limit.

"Very good, very good." Gordon tried hard to suppress the corners of his mouth.

I looked back at the dissection table.

The spider demon's corpse still lay there, its eight legs stretched out at will.

After being tormented by Gordon, its abdominal cavity was further opened, many of the necrotic nerves inside were cut off, and a blank space was left behind the ganglia.

If Peter saw it, he would pat Gordon on the shoulder and say, "Junior, it doesn't look bad."

Winslow, on the other hand, is quite different.

He wouldn't know that a source substance was once hidden here, but he would notice that someone had deliberately searched for this place.

What should we do? Gordon thought for a moment.

Destroy it? Hide it?

The main problem was the lack of time; he could already hear birds chirping outside.

Doing these things at this hour is too late; he doesn't want to bump into someone while holding a spider.

Oh, right...

Gordon devised a plan.

If the evidence disappears, everyone will wonder where it went. Let's do the opposite.

This was the first time he had actively triggered something new in his mind.

It's hidden in the middle of the brain's nerves, like a remote control switch for Gordon's body in his head.

He dialed it.

[The Unbroken String: Synchronous Transmission]

The next moment, his fingers steadied.

……

  

In the morning, Professor Winslow pushed open the door and came in, carrying a stack of newspapers.

His expression was as bad as the weather today; there was no particular reason, he just didn't want to give the students a pleasant look.

Winslow had already achieved great success and was financially secure; he was at an age where he should be cultivating hobbies and tending to his plants. Yet, he still had clear aspirations.

First, find a sufficiently outstanding person to inherit his ideas.

Second, don't let fools inherit anything.

Peter followed behind him, carrying iron cages in both hands, filled with a large group of white rat monsters. These were the unfortunate creatures they would use for their dissection practice that day.

Winslow had just put down his newspaper when he saw a familiar thick white cloth in the room.

He walked over, suddenly lifted the cloth, and his expression changed.

Isn't this... a spider demon?

He recognized it.

Yesterday's open class was a great success. He remembered every structure and organ of the Spider Demon, as well as every technical term that the students pretended to memorize.

Now it's been sewn back up, just as if it had never died.

Winslow took hands to observe.

The stitching was excellent; he had to admit it was as if someone had reversed his anatomical thinking and put the cut-out parts back in, doing it with perfect precision.

Who would have that time?

"Peter," Winslow said, "you've improved a lot lately."

"Spare me, Professor. It's obvious only Gordon has so much free time." Peter put down the two large cages of white rats. "He said he wanted to learn the professor's anatomical approach, so I sold them to him for eighteen silver pounds. I don't know where he got them from."

"He's your junior, he just wants to study, why are you charging him?" Winslow said, displeased.

"Professor, I respect both academic standards and market principles," Peter said. "We also paid for this."

Winslow ignored Peter and turned to the wooden table.

"Gorden?"

Gordon launched himself into the air.

Hmm? Winslow observed carefully.

The person is still the same person.

But Gordon sat up quickly and steadily, without the panic that usually comes with being woken up. It was as if he had sensed Winslow's presence all along and was simply waiting for the call.

"Good morning, Professor," Gordon said calmly.

"You did this? Why did you repair this spider?" Winslow asked curiously.

"Oh, Professor, it's a long story," Gordon said. "When I watched you dissect it, I thought I really understood the structure of the Spider Demon. But when I actually put the pieces back together, I realized how inadequate I was."

This was a very tactful remark; Winslow's initial urge to investigate was quickly put back.

"Didn't sleep all night?" Peter finally had a chance to examine the spider demon closely. "...It's sewn really well; it must have taken a lot of time."

Peter studied under Professor Winslow for six years, while Gordon was only a sophomore. When Peter was a sophomore, he was still engaged in a fierce battle with the White Rat Monster, with the outcome being evenly matched.

"Yes, yes," Gordon nodded. "I'm very careful."

That's the truth. The stitching only took twenty minutes. For the rest of the time, he meticulously destroyed any traces left from refining the source material. Fortunately, his roommates were extremely discreet and didn't say a word.

"Then, you'll be the first one to go up for the anatomy assessment today," Winslow said. "With such good skills, you'll set a good example for the other students."

"Um...can I refuse?"

"No." Winslow turned and left. "This is the greatness of higher education."

Gordon glanced down at the white rat monster in the iron cage.

The white rat monsters also looked up at him.

Neither side was satisfied.

Gordon sighed, picked up the professor's newspaper, and flipped through it idly.

In the social section, Gordon spotted the headline "Monford Family Mansion Locked Down at Night".

Monford.

Gordon's eyes narrowed.

This is Charlotte's house. How could something have happened to her house?

Just as Gordon was about to take a closer look, Peter had already picked up an iron cage and placed it at his feet, causing the white rat monsters inside to squeak and rattle.

"Alright, the newspapers won't teach you how to neutralize the white rat monsters and then distribute them to forty college students," Peter urged. "Let's get started."

"receive."

Gordon put down the newspaper, turned around, put on his gloves, and picked up the scalpel.

As he gripped the hilt of the knife, he immediately activated the silver threads in his mind. Then, that smooth, clear, divine sense of control surged through his entire body once more.

With the help of the source energy, Gordon's control over his body reached an unprecedented level.

In this situation, he can make the knife tip stop wherever he wants, without the slightest deviation or inexplicable tremor.

If you want to apply so little force that you can only peel the fascia, you should apply just the right amount of force with your fingers, no more and no less.

It's hard not to be satisfied.

……

Lecture hall, Department of Biomedical Sciences, Royal College of Natural Sciences University.

The classroom is semi-circular, and the curved desks are covered with knife marks, swear words, and initials of couples' names carved by students from previous years. Forty students sit upright, and the classroom is very tense.

This is now a practical assessment that strikes fear into people's hearts.

During open classes, everyone can go through the motions, maintaining a solemn expression, as if everyone understands the lesson.

Dissecting the white rat monster is another matter entirely; the knife is very honest and won't become more obedient just because someone donated a building to the school.

In front of everyone is a white rat monster. The test is to remove the tremor glands at the back of its neck, while preserving as many of the surrounding fuzzy nerve bundles as possible. The more of these are preserved, the more points you get.

"If you can't even dissect the white rat monster, you don't need to waste your time at school."

Winslow stood at the podium, his tone calm.

"The so-called tremor gland is a reproductive structure of ordinary white mice after undergoing a low-level source reaction and becoming alien demons. It has certain research value. Do not use brute force when separating it, do not crush it, and especially do not shamelessly tell me after crushing it, 'It always looked like this.'"

A few soft laughs rang out in the classroom.

Winslow's gaze swept over the crowd, and the laughter fell silent.

"Gordon Vick, come up here," Winslow ordered.

Gordon stood up with his white rat monster, and the other students looked over. Gordon was usually a nobody in class.

Most people's reaction was, "Oh, so his name is Gordon."

He had good grades, but came from a poor family. He was good-looking, but slept in the anatomy lab. Due to these factors, people could only refer to him as "I had a classmate in medical school..." or "the guy who always sat next to Miss Monford."

"Gordon..."

Charlotte unconsciously sat up straight.

Gordon brought his white rat monster to the control panel at the front and began operating it in front of the whole class.

The white rat was lying on its back. He turned it over and found that the fur on the back of its neck had been shaved clean, and the tremor glands were hidden just a little under the skin.

[The White Rat Monster. Don't forget what you did to it.]

Don't worry, I haven't forgotten.

Gordon picked up the knife.

The first cut was very shallow, just enough to break the skin.

The second incision follows the edge of the fascia. The tweezers probe in, grasp, separate, and loosen, each movement almost monotonously steady, devoid of any showy technique, gradually exposing the tremor glands.

But it is precisely this boredom that makes it feel unreplicable.

The students were waiting to see him make a mistake.

This isn't malicious. When a classmate goes up on stage, the whole class feels a simple expectation: if he fails, everyone will be safe.

"alright."

Gordon took a step back.

Winslow came forward to take a look.