Under the gazes of Shanshan and Charles, the human body before them began to fracture. Bright red blood instantly pumped out from the split skull, followed by blood vessels and brain matter. After a few brief seconds, all that remained on the spot was a mass of writhing flesh.
With a gentle lift of his right hand, Charles made tentacles shoot out from the walls and pierce the fleshy mass.
Soon, the lump of flesh rapidly reformed into the man's previous shape. This time, it didn't collapse; instead, his expression became completely wooden.
"Simple appearances or basic reactions are fairly easy, similar to an intelligent program."
"But if you want him to have his own soul and individual thoughts, that's a very complex matter."
"Can't it be done?" Shanshan asked, looking at the man with a hint of regret.
Charles shook his head. "It's not that it can't be done. If I were to spend fifty-one hours absorbing that knowledge, it should be possible."
