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With his multiple layers of gloves worn properly, Doctor Spyro pointed to a spot on Charles\' nape. Charles couldn\'t see what it was, but he could feel a foreign entity within himself.

"We\'ve already severed all the connections to your power, so you won\'t be able to manipulate any of them. I know it\'s an unpleasant feeling, but it\'s necessary for the surgery to proceed quietly without any disruptions."

With that, Doctor Spyro then glided a sharp scalpel along Charles\' skin but was unable to leave even a minor scratch. Evidently, the stone gifted by Margaret was still working.

Unfortunately, this physical resistance didn\'t last long. A scanning device passed over Charles\'s body, and the black stone in his palm was quickly detected.

Covered in blood, the stone was pried out of his palm, and Charles\' extraordinary defenses instantly weakened significantly.

Layer after layer, Charles\' skin was being peeled back until his chest cavity lay exposed to the sterilized, antiseptic air.

Observing the expression on Charles\' face throughout the procedure, a hint of surprise crossed Doctor Spyro\'s countenance. He hadn\'t administered any anesthesia, but Charles had remained silent throughout without uttering even a single sound.

"Your body is surely special; you\'re not even bleeding much," Doctor Spyro commented as he gently prodded Charles\' crystallized heart with the scalpel.

Charles\' breathing grew rapid. He wasn\'t made from iron; his tolerance toward pain had merely been honed through years of exploration.

"Are you a clone of the Foundation, too? Why don\'t you tell me your story? I know that doctors usually like to chat with their patients during surgeries," Charles said in a calm tone.

Doctor Spyro was quick to catch Charles\' intention. "Still trying to gather intelligence at this point, huh? Stop wasting your energy. Your fate was sealed the moment you refused to join us."

Recalling the note that he had stuffed inside the sea creature, the corners of Charles\' lips slightly curled upward. He chuckled inwardly as he thought, Heh, don\'t be too sure about that. Anna should probably be aware of my situation here now.

The Foundation was formidable, but they weren\'t invincible. While in captivity, Charles had been spending his every waking hour thinking of ways to fight back. Now, he had finally gotten some ideas.

All he needed to do was to endure—endure until the others were here to rescue him.

The next moment, Charles felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. His lips slightly parted as he instinctively took a deep breath.

His trembling gaze lowered slightly to see a sharp-edged glass tube—its diameter about the side of a thumb—in Doctor Spyro\'s hand. Doctor Spyro was driving it deep into his organ.

A smile appeared on Doctor Spyro\'s face, and his forehead creased with wrinkles as he said, "It hurts now, doesn\'t it? Do you know that the pain from your organs is quite different from the pain from your skin?"

With that, Doctor Spyro gently pulled the glass tube with both hands. A soft pop echoed in the room, and the tube was removed. A small cylindrical piece of flesh was within the tube.

"This bit is from your liver. Here\'s a little bit of medical knowledge for you—as long as you are in good health and well nourished, your liver can regenerate even if a portion is removed."

Doctor Spyro carefully placed the glass tube on a metal tray one of his assistants were holding before pulling out a new glass tube.

"Alright, let me test you now. This time, I\'m taking a chunk of your lung. If the liver can regenerate, do you think the lung can?" Doctor Spyro asked. Simultaneously, he drove the glass tube into Charles\' lung directly.

Charles clenched his teeth hard, his eyes turning bloodshot as he stared at Doctor Spyro\'s face. "I don\'t think it can regenerate."

"Congratulations! You\'re correct! After a lobe of the lung is removed, it can\'t regenerate. The owner can only rely on the remaining lobes to breathe.

"Under normal circumstances, only about half of the lung capacity is actively used, so losing one lobe won\'t drastically affect your ability to breathe.

"See? Isn\'t it great being my test subject as compared to the other doctors? At least you get to learn some medical knowledge," Doctor Spyro said with a smile.

One of the nurses beside him couldn\'t hold herself back and let out a soft chuckle. Her laughter seemed contagious and soon, the entire lab was filled with laughter. Everyone was basking in the joyous atmosphere in the room, apart from the test subject lying on the table—Charles.

Ever so cheerful, Doctor Spyro continued with his work without any rest. His hands moved skillfully over Charles\' organs while his mouth rambled on. His topics moved from the stitching technique used in removing part of Charles\' stomach to the taste of the food in their cafeteria earlier.

Just as a debate started between him and the nurse on which of their deceased test subjects had the strongest body, Doctor Spyro\'s hand finally stopped moving. The sampling was completed.

The assistants proceeded to stitch his wounds, and Charles watched as a blood-stained thread weaved through his organs. He felt like a ragdoll that was torn apart and was now being patched up.

Charles\' chest cavity was a mess—none of his organs were intact. Despite almost fainting into unconsciousness from the excruciating pain coursing through him, Charles didn\'t feel much hatred toward the Foundation.

Rather than focusing on the pain he was experiencing, he was focused on thinking of a way to defeat these people. Otherwise, his wife and daughter would have to go through what he had just gone through!

And that was his primary concern!

After his chest was sewn up, Doctor Spyro left with his entourage, leaving Charles all alone in the room and on the operation table.

However, it didn\'t take long before a commotion echoed from the door. An Apostle, with disjointed limbs and its entire form emitting an eerie glow, crawled into the room.

Soon, another one entered, and then another… Eventually, they covered the entire ceiling, and they peered downward at the operation table with their eyeless heads.

Creak.

The door swung open again and a bloated and swollen "human" entered the room.

Although it looked like an extremely obese human, it didn\'t have a head. Its blobs of fats were tightly bound by barbed wire. From a distance, the figure resembled a giant, wobbling gas tank as it walked in.

As the folds of fat on its stomach began to quiver, a woman\'s voice rang out in the room.

With a hint of allure in its voice, it said, "Hello, I\'m N8, or you can call me Doctor Ilena. You seem to be in good spirits, so let\'s proceed with our next surgery, shall we?"

Charles let out a bitter, soundless laugh, "Do I have a choice to reject? What\'s the next surgery about?"

"I\'ve been told that you have a memetic infection in your brain. Coincidentally, I also have something inside of me that is beyond human comprehension, and I can control it to some extent. So we will be doing an interaction experiment."