Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 406 – Be Liberated

“Bullshit!”

Lu Yuan’s spittle sprayed across his face.

That was the last sound Chu Chen heard.

His five senses were rapidly stripped away.

In his vision, Lu Yuan, Chen Mo covered in mud, and the flickering glow of Special Ability flames in the sky all receded at breakneck speed.

Weightlessness.

Falling.

Chu Chen felt his consciousness plunge into a bottomless abyss, countless images flashing before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

Wang Shan’s serum transformed into a dark-red surge of electric current, racing up the main vein straight toward the brain domain.

This foreign force carried an extremely violent rewriting directive, attempting to forcibly seize control of his neural command center.

Deep within his consciousness, a rust-covered, massive door was struck head-on by this crimson tide.

Boom.

A tremendous echo rippled through the darkness.

Behind that door lay the forbidden zone Chu Chen had personally discarded and sealed away for nearly twenty years.

Memory flashed back, images igniting over the black water.

Age four, the old family compound.

Chu Chen held a piece of chalk stub, crouching on the peeling cement floor drawing pictures.

Zhang, the retired university professor from next door, passed by carrying his radio, assuming it was just a child being playful and doodling on the ground.

But when he bent down for a closer look, the hand-rolled cigarette he’d just finished dropped onto his shoe.

“Old Chu! Your kid here—this is advanced geometry, isn’t it?”

At five, he didn’t yet have the heavy dark circles under his eyes, nor did he have a sweet tooth.

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In the scene, he’d finished all the high school science textbooks in just three months.

News that the Chu family had a prodigy spread for miles in every direction.

At seven, he was specially recruited into the nation’s most elite accelerated program.

Back then, he was the super-prodigy in everyone’s eyes, and the pride of his family.

The white-haired old professor held the paper of the composite equation derivation Chu Chen had just solved, his hands trembling so badly he couldn’t steady his teacup.

“This child’s brain development speed doesn’t conform to the objective laws of human brain growth at all.”

That was the easiest time of Chu Chen’s life.

The world seemed utterly transparent to him.

Complex academic problems, tangled webs of information—one glance and his mind would automatically generate the clearest framework.

Every day, besides reading, he’d compete in solving problems against geniuses ten or even decades older, and it almost always ended in his overwhelming victory.

But good times didn’t last.

Several military vehicles with special plates drove into the school and took him away.

At first, the higher-ups valued him immensely.

They gave him top-tier research resources and supercomputing equipment, and like a sponge absorbing water, his intellectual development skyrocketed in a straight line again.

Until he turned ten. Everything changed.

The view shifted.

Chu Chen saw himself at ten, led into an underground research lab with cold, hard metal walls.

The man walking at the front wore a sterile suit, staring at him with cold, indifferent eyes, as if looking at a lab rat.

His name was Chen Dingjun.

A genius might indeed be treated like a national treasure, but a freak who defied the common sense of species cognition was far more likely to be treated as an Experimental Subject.

“His Brain Domain Development is fifteen times that of a normal person, and it’s still in progress—no sign of stopping.”

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“If we can decode his neural structure and clone it, the Federation’s overall scientific progress will leap forward half a century.”

The light was blinding. In the sterile cubicle of barely ten square meters, the air conditioning was cranked up high.

Ten-year-old Chu Chen was strapped to a metal table with leather belts.

A heavy helmet riddled with tubes and wires sat on his head.

No books. No candy.

Only the monotonous ticking of the overhead recorder broke the silence.

Chen Dingjun stood outside the one-way glass wall, staring at him intently.

There was not a trace of living warmth in that gaze—it was purely the look of someone appraising a test subject.

Agonizing pain.

The instrument activated, and high-intensity bioelectric pulses drove straight through the scalp into the cerebral cortex, forcibly attempting to activate deeper neuronal cells.

That kind of pain defied description. Cerebrospinal fluid churned, nerve endings were torn apart and reorganized inch by inch. Chu Chen vomited a pool of sour bile, his entire body convulsing.

“Pain tolerance rated satisfactory. Increase stimulation current by twenty percent.” Chen Dingjun’s cold voice came through the microphone into the sterile room.

Chu Chen turned his head, looking at his own reflection in the mirrored glass.

His face was deathly pale, stripped of all dignity.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why…”

Suddenly, he saw the truth clearly.

The tree that stands out in the forest isn’t just broken by the wind—it gets uprooted entirely and taken away for slice-by-slice study.

As long as he remained that inconceivable super-brain, this sterile room would be his home for life.

To survive as a human being, he had to destroy himself.

It was an extraordinarily cruel act of self-mutilation.

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Chu Chen took the initiative to forcibly erect a towering wall in the deepest recesses of his mind.

He forcibly shut down most of his active brain regions, locking that terrifying computational power and talent deep in a corner, sealed away.

He deliberately severed his acute perception of high-level complex information.

He deliberately dulled himself, deliberately made mistakes, displaying symptoms of mental lethargy and severe intellectual decline.

To guarantee zero errors, he cast even the memory of those sunless days as a lab rat into the forbidden zone of his mind, layering it with heavy shackles.

He regressed from an inhuman existence into an ordinary person who was merely somewhat clever.

The data on the monitoring instruments plummeted day after day.

The fervor on Chen Dingjun’s face faded, replaced by utter disappointment.

“Excessive potential depletion—irreversible damage to the cerebral nerves. He’s finished.”

Chen Dingjun slammed a void stamp onto his file.

Upon reaching adulthood, he was casually dispatched to the Demon Capital Defense Line to serve as an ordinary commander.

Because of that extreme self-imposed isolation, his brain had long been in a state of insufficient blood supply and sub-health.

He began to sport permanent dark circles that never faded, and needed to constantly consume high-purity sugar just to maintain basic energy levels.

He liked to squat on chairs, simply to allow a little more blood to flow toward his brain.

Scenes of the past flashed by like a lantern show in the black water.

The deep-sea imagery began to violently tremble.

The dark red medicinal energy from Wang Shan’s vial was still wreaking havoc.

Its forced rewrite code was brutally crude, slamming again and again against the self-imposed seal Chu Chen had set up all those years ago.

Physical destruction was useless against this seal. But this medicine carried a mental-level takeover command.

It was like a key inserted into the wrong lock, forcibly jammed into a rusted keyhole, twisting and turning blindly.

Click.

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An extremely faint cracking sound exploded within his mind.

That Mental Barrier, which even Chu Chen himself could not easily remove, split open with a thin crack.

In the next instant, the crack spread rapidly, covering the entire towering wall in the blink of an eye.

Boom.

The barrier collapsed completely.

The vast computational power suppressed for nearly twenty years, the super-tier intellect sealed away by his own hand, came flooding back like a raging torrent bursting through a dam, pouring into his existing Sea of consciousness with overwhelming force.

Every fragment of memory clicked into place in that single second.

Chen Dingjun’s face. The smell of disinfectant in the sterile room. The tearing agony of countless electric shocks.

He remembered everything.

Chu Chen’s consciousness stood at the center of the black water.

The murky exhaustion that had weighed on him was utterly gone. The entire flow of information in the world had become tangible within his perception.

The distribution of ambient energy, the faint tremors in the spatial structure, even the molecular arrangement of that red agent—all of it was parsed with crystal clarity in an instant.

The control agent Wang Shan had prided himself on was laughably crude before this reborn, fully unleashed mind.

The immense processing power within his brain simply crushed the dark red energy and assimilated it on the spot into pure spiritual nourishment.

Reality demanded a breakthrough.

The Western Sichuan base could not fall.

Lu Yuan and those veterans were still bleeding.

The shackles he had placed on himself back then to survive—now, it was time to cast them off.

Chu Chen raised his head, gazing into the fathomless expanse of the conscious sky.

“It’s time. Release.”