It wasn't funny at all.
The TV audience roared with laughter at the performance on stage, but Murles remained expressionless, her heart devoid of any emotion.
The program finished, and Murles picked up the remote, turning off the television.
Not just television shows, Murles had also watched various magazines, comics, and movies. Whether they were comedies or tearjerkers, none could evoke the slightest stir in her.
Without joy, there was no passion for life.
Without pain, there was no desire to die.
Floating between life and death, hazy and ephemeral, she could never reach the other shore.
Murles looked at her hands. Today was a basic training session for the Manipulation Type Nen ability, specifically transforming "Nen" into different shapes. In the original manga, the protagonist’s teaching goal was to create numbers one through nine, as quickly as possible.
Not being a beginner, Murles naturally opted for more complex exercises, like forming a butterfly, a bird, or other shapes, choosing according to her preference.
By rapidly and continuously adjusting the shape, she could create a stop-motion animation effect, linking still frames together to make the bird appear to be flapping its wings.
This world was a playground for the strong and a slaughterhouse for the weak; at least she couldn't be among those slaughtered at will.
Even without emotions, Murles did not wish to suffer pain.
Even without emotions, Murles' original likes and dislikes still existed.
"Those likes and dislikes, do they count as emotions?"
Murles visited the psychologist who had treated her and asked this question.
The brain surgery that had robbed her of emotions was likely suggested by this very doctor, so she chose to visit him late at night, in his bedroom while he was asleep. The doctor slept in separate rooms from his wife and children, making private conversations convenient.
The bedside lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating the area around the pillow, perfect for reading before sleep. In other words, anything outside the lamp's reach remained shrouded in darkness.
Choking, the doctor suddenly awoke. The finger pressing on his neck was ice-cold. The bedside lamp illuminated a face that had appeared in the darkness, exquisite and pale, like a possessed doll from a horror film, intent on slaughtering anyone it targeted, unstoppable.
His throat was constricted so tightly that the doctor couldn't make a sound.
"Don't shout, and don't move," the doll's lips moved, her voice unnaturally stiff, as if mechanically synthesized. "Or I'll kill you."
This voice reminded the doctor of androids from science fiction movies, capable of changing their appearance freely, making them convenient for pursuing targets.
He had watched too many movies recently, accompanying his children.
Of course, even without having seen those movies, ordinary people knew what to do when facing a life threat: obey.
After the initial panic, the doctor recognized the person as his former patient, the eldest daughter of the Zoldyck family—Murles Zoldyck.
When this young lady was only seven or eight years old, her father, Mr. Silva, had said she possessed the ability to kill doctors.
Regardless of whether that was the professional assassin's humor or a peculiar form of pride, the young lady was proving her ability right now.
The villa's security systems and personnel remained completely inactive.
As far as the doctor knew, this young lady was congenitally missing vocal cords, so the mechanical voice just now must have been the effect of a vocal apparatus.
Not daring to blink, suppressing his instinct to struggle, the doctor earnestly conveyed his compliance.
The instinct to struggle could be suppressed, thanks to the young lady's "gentle" method; she likely wanted to prolong the doctor's conscious experience of the agonizing suffocation.
However, she might have lacked practical experience and overlooked a crucial detail.
Suffocation could also induce excitement.
From a physiological standpoint, suffocation leads to excitement because, in a state of oxygen deprivation, neurotransmitters in the human brain undergo changes: dopamine release increases, serotonin release increases, norepinephrine increases. When the release of these excitatory neurotransmitters reaches a certain level, it can cause various illusions and hallucinations.
This is why condemned prisoners, during their execution by hanging, experience physiological reactions akin to pleasure.
Terrible, and yet extraordinarily wonderful.
To restrain the doctor's movements, the young lady's weight, still separated by the blanket, pressed down on his body. For a physiologically normal man, this situation was agonizing, even for a man over forty—never underestimate male desire.
When the constriction around his throat finally disappeared, and air rushed back into his lungs, the doctor had to focus his energy on maintaining composure. Otherwise, he might have lingered in that state for a while longer, which could be dangerous, in every sense of the word.
The young lady's weight lifted from the blanket, and she sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze never leaving the doctor, highly vigilant.
The doctor also sat up from the bed, leaning back against the headboard, clasping his hands in front of him, responding to her scrutiny with a professional smile.
It was time to test his professional skills; if he failed, his life might end here.
The thrill of facing a dangerous challenge coursed through his spine, like a powerful stimulant. The doctor's mental state rapidly improved to an optimal level. The confusion brought on by the suffocation was cast aside as he entered work mode.
"After the surgery, I couldn't feel emotions. I became less like myself, as if my feet couldn't touch the ground, lacking a sense of reality. I tried doing various things I used to like and dislike, interacting with people I used to like and dislike, but my emotions didn't change much. However, at least one thing remained: if I had to choose, I would still prefer to do things I used to like, regardless of benefit or merit," Murles said. "Those likes and dislikes, do they count as emotions?"
Clearing his throat a few times to remove the obstruction, the doctor spoke after a brief consideration, "A long time ago, when medicine was not as advanced, people believed the heart was the organ of thought, the place where all emotions and thoughts originated. That's why many words expressing emotions are related to the 'heart,' such as heartache, heartbreak, tired heart, and so on. Now, people believe the brain is the organ of thought, and the heart is merely an organ that pumps blood throughout the body. But is that the ultimate truth? The world is vast, and humanity is insignificant. Today, we have only glimpsed a small corner of the world. Not to mention the sky and the oceans, but even on land, we haven't reached the world's boundaries."
Yes, according to the original setting, the land where humans lived was merely a small area in the center of Lake Mobius. Beyond the areas inhabited by humans lay vast expanses whose full extent was unknown to anyone, containing countless legendary treasures yet to be explored by humanity, accompanied by immense risks that could bring about the annihilation of the human world. Therefore, the V5, an alliance of the five most powerful nations in the world, had entered into a covenant with other countries, prohibiting exploration of the Dark Continent.
"Consciousness, spirit, language, learning, memory, intelligence, sensation, emotion... and so on. We have learned about the approximate functions of many brain regions, and it seems everything about a person is determined by the brain. If an experiment were conducted, separating the brain and placing it in a nutrient solution to maintain its survival, and a supercomputer transmitted the same neural electrical signals to the brain through its nerve endings as it normally received, and provided the same feedback for the signals the brain emitted," the doctor pointed to his own temple, "could the brain then realize it was living in a virtual reality?"
"Current scientific levels do not allow for such an experiment, but there is something more crucial than an experiment," the doctor paused. "That is, what is 'I'?"
"Is 'my' existence merely a collection of organs and flesh? And is the job of a psychologist merely an interpreter of brain signals?" The doctor shook his head. "That's rather uninteresting. Science aims to unravel the mysteries of the world, which is why the end of science is theology... Do you believe in the existence of a soul?"
Murles wanted to deny it, but then she remembered that the original manga, in the Chimera Ant arc, had discussed the existence of souls.
Just as the "game backpack" had been rationalized as a Specialist-type Nen ability, other aspects probably conformed to local customs. She couldn't be sure, so she remained silent.
"I apologize. As a professional assassin, you probably don't believe in the existence of souls, do you?" The doctor decisively abandoned the topic of souls. "Discussing unproven theories can easily be seen as me trying to mislead. Let's return to the starting point and proceed from my profession. Well, in our field, it's generally believed that 'I' is composed of the body and the mind."
"Physiology is the foundation of psychology. A person's cognitive activities are largely influenced by their body. Elements like desires and emotions affect a person's overall judgment, and the brain's main function is to process information received from all parts of the body," the doctor said. "That surgery only obstructed the brain's processing of emotional outcomes. In reality, emotions still exist; they remain within the body."
"Due to the impairment in emotional cognition, your brain cannot transmit emotional signals to your body, but your body can still generate emotional signals. The likes and dislikes you feel are emotional signals emitted by your body." The doctor raised his index finger, then pointed to Murles's heart. "In other words, if you wish to feel different emotions, you just need to let your body experience the corresponding stimuli."
"..." Murles pondered this.
"This will require some time to adapt to a new way of cognition. During this period, we will use medical instruments to monitor your various bodily indices in real-time and create the most scientific and effective customized plan. I recommend you stay for professional rehabilitation."
"I will consider it," Murles nodded. "How much is the consultation fee this time?"
"Your family has already paid a considerable sum. This is considered complimentary after-sales service."
"It has nothing to do with my family. How much?"
"Oh, I understand. This is your personal consultation." The doctor immediately grasped Murles's underlying meaning. "Please rest assured, it is a doctor's duty to protect patient privacy wholeheartedly."
After the doctor stated an amount, Murles placed a stack of cash in front of him.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you," she lowered her gaze. "I heard it was you who suggested I go out more."
"Ah, yes, that was one of them." The doctor's suggestion had not been fully adopted; this was common. People have reservations, biases, and stubbornness, and few people trust a doctor unconditionally. "I wish you a good enjoyment of life."
"Mhm." She tapped the stack of cash with her fingertip. "When I came in, I killed your dog."
As she turned, a flash of silver-white flickered, and the edge of the bed became empty.
Night returned to its tranquility. If not for the presence of the cash, everything seemed as if the doctor had just woken from a nightmare.
Once his racing heart subsided, the doctor threw off the blanket, got out of bed, put on his coat, opened the door, and walked quickly towards the yard. The slap of his slippers on the floor triggered the hallway's motion-activated lights one after another. His feet felt soft as he reached the lawn in the yard.
He owned a large dog, and the wooden kennel near the hallway in the yard was its home.
A dog's house was different from a human's; there were no lights inside, and it was pitch dark, making it difficult to see.
Calling the dog's name, he squatted down and reached his hands into the darkness.
First, he felt fur, then dampness.
He called the dog's name again.
"Woof." The dog rushed out of the kennel, leaped into his arms, stuck out its tongue, and wagged its tail enthusiastically, expressing its joy at seeing its master.
With one hand stroking the dog's head, he reached towards the dog bowl in front of the kennel.
An apple lay there, as red as blood. When he first arrived at the kennel, he mistook it for something like internal organs.
Oh, it was just an apple.
And a fruit that dogs could eat.
The dog in his arms, attracted by the apple's scent, stretched its neck to sniff it.
"..." Could this actually be eaten?
Moving the apple away, the doctor fell into a dilemma.