Era of Magic and Martial Arts

Chapter 619 - 591: Soul Shearing—Listen, Destiny Is Knocking (Double-length)

Excluding the tedious and complex experimental arguments, here’s the conclusion.

The copying of memory is not the copying of memories but the cutting of the soul!

And this cutting doesn’t just remove a corner of the soul; it shaves off an entire layer of the soul’s thickness.

To illustrate, if the soul is a sheet of rice paper, memories are the paintings on the paper. The technology for copying or transferring memories is akin to cutting the paper with scissors.

It’s not a vertical cut but a horizontal slice through the middle.

Thus, although the painting is "transferred" intact to a new medium, the original paper irreversibly thins.

The colors on the paper fade and blur; those fading memories and blurred images are not mere forgetfulness but a deeper, soul-level depletion.

It’s permanently irreversible, impossible to glue back together.

This is why, among those organizations or individuals with similar technologies, uploading or backing up memories is seen as a last resort — used only when life is in peril and the body is on the verge of perishing.

Even those who live on the edge, like battle-hardened soldiers, usually make only one backup as a final insurance.

After all, with existing technology, we cannot observe the shape of the soul, let alone its thickness.

Who knows how thick your rice paper is, how many cuts it can withstand, or which cut might leave it in tatters?

Of course, if the rice paper shreds, it doesn’t mean the soul is annihilated, so there’s no need to be overly anxious.

There are ways to remedy it, sticking it back together with the great power of science, although the reassembled shape is uncertain.

Fortunately, Zuo Bai is experienced in this area, able to piece shredded souls into a uniform shape—the little darlings of the Eighth Academy are proof of this.

Zuo Bai is standing in front of the workbench, focused on the control screen, operating the mechanical arm, slowly inserting a scalpel into the back of his head.

This scene looks like suicide.

Half a minute later, the mechanical arm slowly retrieves from the back of his head a fingernail-sized memory chip streaked with blood.

The chip is connected to a nearly transparent thread, the other end of which drapes like a fishing net over his entire brain.

This surgery allows no room for error:

If this chip is slightly damaged, Zuo Bai would immediately become a vegetable.

The connecting line to the chip must not break, or he’d undergo a spontaneous mutation on the spot.

Performing surgery on himself presents the highest difficulty level; anyone else would be sweating and shaky.

Yet Zuo Bai remains composed, his gaze calm with a hint of morbid excitement.

Under his control, the mechanical arm operates with precision as he murmurs to himself:

"This is the wonder of technology; although I can’t observe the soul, I can use certain means to temporarily anchor my soul to this chip."

Zuo Bai doesn’t know the soul’s shape.

But he is utterly convinced that his soul is being half-detached from his body, like magnetized iron filings clinging to the nano-components of the memory chip.

This curious state of separation, though exceptionally brief, is enough for him to perform another dangerous soul cutting.

Zuo Bai softly says, "A chip integrated with flesh can deceive the soul!"

Once the soul is replicated and transferred, subsequent uploading and synchronization updates are straightforward, merely requiring a network connection and key verification.

Because the deception is already complete.

But the initial step of cutting must involve a risk-laden surgery.

That’s why any claim that a single data cable can complete the first memory upload is certainly a scam through and through.

These lies, often dressed in a cloak of high technology, specifically deceive those who know little about science.

(Shi Wuming: "...." Do I still get whipped after death? Besides, I wasn’t fooled; I hadn’t even had the chance to be deceived before I died~)

Zuo Bai is fully confident in his surgical skills.

No matter how difficult the operation, he wouldn’t make any mistakes.

The only risk is...

"I’ve cut my soul twice already. How many more times can I cut my soul?" Doubt flickered in Zuo Bai’s eyes.

But his hands didn’t pause, continuing the dazzling flurry of operations at the workbench.

Cutting is just a metaphor; the real process involves 13 complex steps.

After long-term research, Zuo Bai has a vague hypothesis about the soul’s thickness.

Most people’s souls can withstand three cuts, a few can endure up to five, and those with rare natural talents can withstand seven cuts.

Nine is theoretically the limit that humans can reach.

It might not just be the soul; all biological souls’ limits cannot exceed nine times.

Behind these conclusions lie cold experimental data and secret forbidden knowledge.

The most enlightening resource for Zuo Bai was a forbidden file obtained from deep within the Hidden Sect of Zone 6.

Behind Zone 6’s Hidden Sect is a civilization ruin, personally destroyed by a certain god, and the forbidden file records shocking research by a mad scientist of that world desecrating the god.

After years of study, Zuo Bai translated part of the document.

Among the translated content was an extraordinarily shocking conclusion—gods are not eternal and indestructible.

They can be killed!