Chapter 292: Basic Research Is Always Useless

The observable window of identifiable fluctuations was short, the entire process lasting roughly ten seconds before weakening and dissolving into complex background noise.

The spiritual sense recorded this fluctuation, its pattern transmitting from an immature spiritual entity forming around the Moon Corpse, like a true wave, to the spiritual sense.

From the assistant's perspective, the sample twitched briefly before returning to its regular pulsing state.

But Kraft was nearly ecstatic; the last time he'd been this excited was when he received a whole box of heavy, golden rewards at Comfort Harbor. The bottle glowed like molten gold, its scorching allure pinning his gaze to the glass.

"Miracle." Kraft stared at the pulsing mass for a long time, then placed the bottle back on its stand.

The expected discomfort surged; he adjusted his body's tilt and collapsed into the chair, the armrests groaning under pressure. An invisible, suffocating sense of embarrassment pressed in from the space, making every inch of his body feel crushed into an infinitely thin sheet by a giant hydraulic press.

The pain of severing the spiritual sense did not quell his desire to continue the experiment. Perhaps he now understood Professor Mo Lisen— the more one knew, the harder it became to resist the inexplicable allure of that power.

Not an effect achieved by twisting thought, like the black fluid, but a judgment formed on existing knowledge after evaluation—for disease, it might be the ultimate answer.

Even within the range of knowledge held by souls from another world, this was an temptation nearly impossible to refuse.

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

Neither Mo Lisen nor the researcher who died in the Royal Mausoleum had suddenly transformed from their original profession into heretics overnight.

They were likely people with basic conscience, lingering before the highest threshold they could reach, held back by the limitations of their age.

The first step is always ambiguous. Kraft clearly recognized that he stood exactly where they had stood then—no different despite his higher level of understanding.

They stood before the door to a new field; one small step forward could surpass their previous limits. Risk existed, but it fell within an acceptable range.

One small step, just one—once he understood what that step meant, he could stop without major consequences. Even if he went a little deeper under proper safeguards, it would still be manageable, with ample room to operate.

He also clearly understood that if he went too deep, problems would inevitably arise.

It was essentially a gamble with the depths: as long as he won enough chips, he could exit before paying the cost—or after bearing some acceptable cost—and still pocket pure profit.

Clearly, Professor Mo Lisen had lost the gamble, because he lacked sufficient understanding of the depths, used the wrong methods, and didn't know what was truly valuable—perhaps even at the moment before crossing the final boundary, he still believed the cost was bearable.

Now another professor had discovered this gamble, rubbing his hands together, ready to join. He possessed far superior professional knowledge, extensive experience with the depths, and exceptional crisis-handling ability—he would surely do better.

Surely do better?

Really? Kraft asked himself. Did he truly understand the depths so well? Did he understand the things embedded in his own arm?

Well, now he had one more advantage: self-awareness.

Not trying now would be a betrayal of himself. If he gave up now, he might wake in terror every night, reflecting on every unmanageable case and wondering whether his refusal had been worth it.

Of course, tonight might not work. His daily usage of the spiritual sense had already been excessive, and by the experiment's delay, it had unconsciously surpassed previous levels.

"Kup, prepare that rabbit from last time. Use it tomorrow." Following the principle that experimental animals should not be reused, the rabbit that had been bled last time was still alive in the clinic's backyard, temporarily spared from the kitchen's fate—but its good days were over.

The experimental focus rapidly shifted toward the unexpected discovery. As for the incomprehensible high-precision deep-layer influence detection device... what was that? Did the Inquisition provide research funding? Even the rabbits were bought out of pocket.

Starting the next day, Kraft spent only half a day at the clinic; he gained free time, and Dai Wei gained exercise opportunities. That was the polite way to put it.

Animal trials were swiftly scheduled.

He temporarily named this fluctuation the "Defibrillator Effect," in memory of its discovery during digitalis-induced ventricular fibrillation.

The preliminary experiment aimed to clarify the mechanism of the "Defibrillator Effect": whether it relieved digitalis's inhibition of the sodium-potassium pump and restored intracellular ion gradients, or used some more "magical" method to forcibly restore myocardial contraction and relaxation.

If it was the former, it might be usable for emergency treatment of digitalis poisoning.

Given the current lack of conditions for microscopic investigation, he hoped to explore the mechanism by observing the fluctuation's effect on normal tissue.

The animal, still ignorant of its fate, had been well-fed, then securely strapped to the experimental table, with the glass bottle containing the sample placed near its heart. The distance between the rabbit's heart and the sample was roughly three finger-widths.

This distance was too great for a fluctuation that only covered the sample itself; the thin, incomplete spiritual entity needed to expand further to reach the target.

He attempted to trigger a larger-scale, stronger "Defibrillator Effect" by injecting a high dose of digitalis extract.

After injecting twice the previous dose of digitalis, a stronger fluctuation was indeed observed, but it remained confined to the sample's own range, showing no significant expansion.

This bottleneck stalled the experiment for nearly two days; whether increasing the dose, lowering the concentration, or prolonging the injection time, only the intensity rose—the fluctuation remained confined within the sample's pitiful, shapeless spiritual entity.

Moreover, after the high-intensity experiment, the already fragile sample's spiritual entity showed signs of weakening.

Kraft had no choice but to let it rest for half a day and reconsider his approach.

The so-called "fluctuation" was something only mediated by a spiritual entity, which was why it could only be perceived by the spiritual sense.

Just as coupling gel must be applied between the ultrasound probe and the skin, a spiritual entity or a similar medium was required to effectively transmit the fluctuation elsewhere.

This determined whether the experiment could proceed further—and whether it could ever be applied to humans.

At this range, even if he opened the pericardial cavity and placed the fluctuating sample directly on the heart's surface, it might still fail to affect the entire left ventricle.

"More troublesome than I imagined," Kraft unstrapped the rabbit and shoved it into its cage, feeding it two leaves of lettuce.

It was proven: willingness to take risks did not guarantee reward. There was always an insurmountable gap between theory and application.

"But it doesn't matter—basic research has always been 'useless.' You must be prepared for this."

The frequency and duration of spiritual sense usage in these past days had reached unprecedented levels, to the point where even recalling them made him slightly afraid—yet his tolerance for the pain upon disconnection showed no noticeable increase.

Reason and self-control told him his current state resembled a gambler on a high, desperate to throw more chips into the next round.

The best choice was not to change the plan, but to step outside, clear his head, do something else—like returning to the clinic to resume work, or checking on Green's mental state after his convalescence.