The laboratory on the screen was completely different from the orderly research environment in Ron's memory.
The current seventh floor more closely resembled the private domain of a mad alchemist.
The walls were plastered with endless data charts.
Lines of different colors connected terms like "Pain Threshold", "Increased Pleasure", and "Consciousness Threshold" that sent chills down one's spine.
"Ron, I must say, the research center is really quite worrisome in your absence."
Cassandra's tone was filled with exhaustion:
"Cedric, that madman, has stirred up quite a mess."
Her fingers tapped lightly, and the projection began to play the first recorded segment.
In the footage, a Vital prisoner of war was restrained by a specially designed device.
His silver skin glimmered coldly under the magic crystal lamp, and the compound eyes reflected countless distorted light points.
"The initial tests proceeded exactly as Cedric expected."
Cassandra's voice carried a cold judgment:
