Returning to New York from Washington, Lynn did not stop for a moment.
A black Ford sedan drove away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and plunged into the intricate industrial arteries of Brooklyn.
The wheels rolled over the potholed road and finally stopped outside an abandoned cannery.
Lynn got out of the car, straightened his suit collar, and walked toward the deepest part of this industrial wasteland.
A semi-underground laboratory.
The rusty iron door was ajar, and a dim light shone through the crack.
Lynn pushed the door open.
The pungent smell of chemical reagents hit his face.
Blueprints, beakers, and tangled wires covered every inch of space.
One could even see suspicious-colored liquids on the floor.
A man in a lab coat, his hair as messy as a bird's nest, was hunched over a workbench, muttering to the artificial muscle fibers in a glass tube.
"No... no, that's not right... the stability is still not enough..."
He did not notice that there was another person behind him.
Dr.Phineas Horton.
Lynn did not make a sound to disturb him.
He quietly bypassed a pile of scrap mechanical parts and scanned the chemical formulas on the walls.
According to the report, this guy was a paranoid and unrealistic madman.
Lynn's gaze finally landed on a blueprint thrown on the edge of a trash can.
It depicted a vague humanoid figure, with complex mechanical skeletons and energy circuits inside the body.
"Machines cannot perfectly simulate the pulse of life."
Lynn suddenly spoke up.
Dr. Horton's body trembled.
He sprang up from the workbench, instinctively grabbed a still-hot soldering iron from his side, turned around, and glared vigilantly at this uninvited guest.
"Who are you? Someone from the Military? Get out! I told them, my research hasn't reached the stage where it can be displayed yet!"
His voice was hoarse, carrying the stagnation of long-term isolation.
Lynn ignored his hostility.
He picked up the blueprint on his own and smoothed it out.
"Does using artificial nerve bundles to transmit energy ignore the emotional redundancy in the process of bioelectric conduction?"
"You want to create life, but you are actually using the logic of building machines."
Dr. Horton was a bit surprised.
This stranger had identified his current bottleneck after just one glance at his discarded draft.
"Who... who are you?"
"An investor."
Lynn carefully placed the blueprint back on the table and looked around the simple laboratory.
"A thinker like you, who is not understood by this era."
He pulled over a relatively intact chair and sat down, his posture as calm as if this were his office.
"Dr. Horton, have you read Plato?"
The jump in the topic made Dr. Horton unable to keep up.
"What?"
"The Republic."
Lynn crossed his legs.
"He believed that the World we live in is just a false projection, and in the real World, there exists the perfect form of all things."
Lynn paused and looked at Dr. Horton.
"The perfect form of a human."
"Dr., those idiots in general uniforms and politicians with brains full of only profit... they cannot understand your greatness. In their eyes, you are just a tool that can build better weapons."
"Nietzsche said that man is something that should be surpassed."
"What you are doing is building that bridge to the Superman. A brand new species, it will transcend human fragility, stupidity, and inferiority, leading the entire civilization to a higher level with a perfect posture."
As Lynn cajoled him, Phineas Horton felt his blood surging.
He felt his soul, stiffened by long-term research, being reignited by these words.
This man had unlocked the shackles deep within his heart.
Lynn stood up, walked over to Dr. Horton, and looked directly into his bloodshot eyes, which were filled with excitement.
"You are creating a better, nobler, more perfect life!"
"Stop..."
Dr. Horton's voice trembled, and he covered his face.
"No, I must speak."
Lynn placed his hand gently on his shoulder.
"Because in this World, only we can understand each other. We are the same kind, Dr. We are the true humans, ostracized by that group of monkeys who only see money and power."
Warm liquid seeped out from between Dr. Horton's fingers.
This genius scientist, nearly fifty years old, regarded as a disgrace by the academic World and treated as a mad dog by the Military, suddenly burst into tears.
He was not crying out of grievance.
It was the ecstasy of finally being understood.
Lynn waited quietly.
For dealing with such pure geniuses, money is the cheapest method.
Corrupting him with his ideals and kidnapping him with his dreams is the most brilliant form of control.
What Phineas Horton wanted was a confidant, recognition, and that "perfection" he had spent his whole life pursuing.
Lynn would give it all to him, give him everything.
After his emotions calmed down a little, Dr. Horton wiped away his tears and looked at Lynn with a brand new gaze.
"Follow me."
He led Lynn through the chaotic laboratory to an area sealed off by a heavy lead door.
"They only saw my failures, but never understood the value of failure."
Dr. Horton opened the door, and the sight inside made the air feel oppressive.
Three glass culture tanks stood in the center of the room, inside which his past "works" were soaking.
In the first culture tank was a robot made entirely of metal, with a burly build.
"Number One,"
Dr. Horton pointed at it, his voice filled with self-mockery.
"A mechanical creation. It possesses defense and strength that surpass a tank, but it has no soul. It is just a moving steel coffin."
Lynn turned his gaze to the second one.
It was a deformed, bloated aggregate of biological tissue, with countless proliferating flesh filling the entire culture tank, still slowly wriggling.
"Number Two, I tried to combine biological synthesis technology with mechanical skeletons. The result... was uncontrolled cancer."
Dr. Horton's fists clenched.
"Its cells can proliferate rapidly, but there is no order to speak of. It only wants to devour and grow, eventually becoming a pile of meaningless rotten meat."
Finally, Lynn looked at the third culture tank.
The experimental subject inside was the closest to a human in appearance.
A handsome male body, with perfect muscle lines.
But there was a charred hole in his chest.
"Number Three,"
Dr. Horton's voice lowered.
"He is my most perfect work. I succeeded; I created a stable, artificial life with self-awareness. He can think, learn, and even... feel emotions."
"Then why did he..."
"He committed suicide."
Dr. Horton closed his eyes.
"I gave him a perfect body, powerful strength, and even a brain that can think. But I couldn't give him a meaning for his existence. When he realized that he was neither human nor machine, he fell into an irreconcilable self-contradiction."
"In the end, he chose to burn through his own chest using the energy core within him."
Lynn turned around and looked at Dr. Horton.
"A soul without faith will inevitably move toward self-destruction. What you need is a supreme will that can make him obey."
The two returned to the main laboratory.
Lynn took a blank check and a pen from his pocket and placed them on the workbench.
"Dr., I need a work."
"A work that can prove to the whole World that your theory is correct, a work that can make everyone who has mocked you shut their mouths."
Dr. Horton looked up, his red eyes filled with confusion.
Lynn signed his name on the check and then pushed it to Dr. Horton.
"Unlimited funds, the most advanced equipment, and an independent laboratory located 300 meters underground that will not be disturbed. I can provide everything you need."
Dr. Horton looked at the check and then at Lynn.
"What... what do you want?"
"I want you to create a miracle for me, a perfect creation that surpasses mortals."
He stepped forward and leaned in.
"And, loyalty."
Dr. Horton nodded without hesitation.
He didn't even look at the number on the check.
A confidant.
A sponsor.
A guide to divine revelation.
He was willing to offer everything he had for this, including his soul.
"He will be the future of humanity."
Dr. Horton said in a tone like an oath.
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