Chapter 292: Basic Research Is Always Useless

The observable window for the identifiable fluctuation was brief; the entire process lasted about ten-plus seconds before fading into the complex noise as its intensity waned.

The mental senses recorded this fluctuation; its pattern, resembling a true wave, propagated from the immature mental body formed around the Moon Corpse to the mental senses.

From the assistant's perspective, the specimen merely twitched briefly before returning to a state of regular pulsation.

But Kraft was so excited he was about to jump out of his skin; the last time he'd seen him like this was when he received a whole box of heavy, golden rewards at Port Consolation. The bottle was like a piece of burning hot pure gold, its scalding attraction firmly fixing his gaze onto the glass.

"A miracle." Kraft stared at that pulsating mass for a long while before placing the bottle back on its base.

The expected discomfort struck; he instinctively adjusted his body's tilt, falling into the chair and making the armrests creak. An invisible, suffocating sense of embarrassment squeezed in from the space, making him feel as if every inch of his body had been thrown into a large hydraulic press and rolled into infinitely thin dough.

The pain of detaching from the mental senses could not suppress the idea of continuing the experiment. Perhaps he understood Professor Mo Lisen; the more one knows, the more irresistible the incredible attraction of that power becomes.

It was not an effect achieved by distorting thoughts like the Black Liquid, but a judgment reached after evaluation upon one's existing cognition—for disease, it might be a final answer.

Even within the scope known to souls from other worlds, this belonged to a temptation very hard to refuse.

The greatest deceptions are often the truth; the most alluring traps always hold real gold and silver.

Whether Mo Lisen or the researcher who died in the Royal Tomb, neither surely transformed from their official duties to heresy overnight.

They were likely people with basic conscience, lingering before the highest threshold they could reach, unable to enter due to the limitations of their era.

The first step is always ambiguous. Kraft clearly realized that his position now was the same as theirs then; there would be no difference simply because his cognitive level was higher.

They stood before the door of a new realm; taking one small step forward could surpass the previous limit. The risk indeed existed, but it fell within an acceptable range.

One small step, just one small step; once this step is understood, stopping would cause no major problems. Even delving deeper under safety guarantees would be fine; there was plenty of room for maneuver.

Equally clear was that if one went too deep, problems would arise sooner or later.

Essentially, it was a gamble against the Deep; as long as enough chips were won, withdrawing in time before paying the price or after bearing some acceptable cost meant the gains were pure profit.

Clearly, Professor Mo Lisen lost the gamble. That was because his understanding of the Deep was insufficient, his methods wrong, and he didn't know what was most valuable. Perhaps even moments before crossing the final boundary, he still felt the cost was within his tolerance.

Now another professor has discovered this gamble, rubbing his hands in preparation to join the game. He possesses professional knowledge far surpassing the former, rich experience in deep contact, and the ability to handle accidents; he can absolutely do better.

Absolutely do better?

Really? Kraft asked himself. Did he truly understand the Deep that well? Did he understand those things embedded in his arm?

Fine, now he has another advantage: self-awareness.

Now, not trying would be a disservice to himself. If he gave up like this, he might wake up startled every night in the future, reflecting on whether that refusal was worth it in the face of every unmanageable illness.

Of course, not tonight. Today's usage of mental senses was already large enough; as the experiment dragged on, it unknowingly exceeded previous levels.

"Kup, prepare that rabbit from last time; utilize it tomorrow." Adhering to the principle that experimental animals are best not used twice, the rabbit from which blood was drawn last time was still kept in the clinic's backyard, temporarily spared from the kitchen's poison, but its good days should end here.

The experimental focus quickly tilted toward the accidental discovery. As for the high-precision Deep influence detection device with no leads... what was that? Did the Inquisition provide research funding? Even the rabbit was purchased with personal funds.

Starting the next day, the time Kraft spent at the clinic was reduced to half a day. He gained free time, while David gained an opportunity for exercise. To put it euphemistically.

Animal trials were quickly put on the agenda.

He temporarily named this fluctuation the "Defibrillator Effect," to commemorate its discovery during the ventricular fibrillation caused by digitalis.

The plan for the preliminary experiment was to clarify the mechanism of the "Defibrillator Effect." Was it relieving digitalis's inhibition of the sodium-potassium pump through some pathway, readjusting the ion gradient inside and outside the cells, or forcibly restoring myocardial contraction and relaxation function via some more "magical" method?

If it were the former, it might be applicable to emergency treatment for digitalis poisoning.

Considering there were currently no conditions to investigate from a microscopic perspective, he hoped to explore the mechanism by observing the fluctuation's effect on normal tissue.

The animal, still unaware of its fate, gorged itself on a meal before being tightly bound to the experimental table with restraints. A glass bottle containing the specimen was placed near the heart. The distance between the rabbit's heart and the specimen was about three finger-widths.

This was still too far for a fluctuation that could only cover the specimen itself. That thin, incomplete mental body needed to expand further to reach.

He attempted to inject a large dose of digitalis juice, trying to trigger a larger-scale, stronger "Defibrillator Effect."

After injecting a dose of digitalis equivalent to twice the previous amount, a higher-intensity fluctuation was indeed observed, but it remained confined to the specimen's own range, with no significant expansion of scope.

This difficulty stalled the experiment for nearly two days. Whether increasing the dose, lowering the concentration, or extending the injection time, only the intensity increased; the fluctuation remained confined to the specimen's pitiful, formless mental body range.

Moreover, after the high-intensity experiment, the already weak mental body of the specimen showed signs of decline.

Kraft had to let it rest for half a day and reflect on whether the method was flawed.

The so-called "fluctuation" was something that could only be mediated by a mental body, which is why it was only perceived by mental senses.

It was the same principle as applying coupling agent between the probe and skin before an ultrasound; a mental body or a medium of similar nature was needed to effectively propagate the fluctuation to other places.

This determined whether the experiment could proceed further and whether it could be applied to the human body.

With this range, even if the pericardial cavity were opened and the fluctuation-emitting specimen pressed against the heart's surface, it might not affect the entire left ventricle.

"More troublesome than imagined." Kraft untied the rabbit from the experimental table, stuffed it into a cage, and fed it two lettuce leaves.

Facts proved that being willing to take risks did not guarantee gains. There was always an insurmountable chasm between theory and application.

"But it doesn't matter. Basic research has always been 'useless'; one should be mentally prepared for this."

The frequency and duration of mental sense usage in these past few days had increased to an unprecedented level, reaching a degree that made him feel a bit fearful even upon reflection, yet his tolerance for the pain of disconnection had not significantly increased.

Reason and self-control told him that his current state was a bit like an overexcited gambler, impatient to throw more chips into the next hand.

The best choice was not to change the plan, but to go outside to clear his head and do something else—such as returning to the clinic to take over work, or checking on Green's mental state after his outdoor recuperation.