Chapter Eleven: Brainwave Detection

Jiyu and Duan Peng endured several days of relentless “torment” under Jing Zhiming’s strict regimen. While the other team members anxiously awaited the announcement of the initial scores, the two had already vanished from the roster posted by the square. However, their squad did not replenish the missing names, remaining at twenty-eight.

The sudden disappearance of their names puzzled Ouyang Nan. Since the pair had been confined, neither Xu Yan nor Duan Peng had been seen again. The unchanged roster deepened her suspicion. Unfortunately, Wu Mingjie and Jing Dong belonged to different squads, so she enlisted a female teammate from the tenth squad, who shared their dormitory, to inquire. Yet, she returned with no news.

Even Captain Zhang Xudong was unable to provide any information. It was as if the two had simply vanished.

Meanwhile, after days of intense “training,” Jiyu and Duan Peng were locked away in separate solitary rooms by Jing Zhiming. Inside, the rooms were utterly bare—no sounds, no companionship, not even a single book. They had no idea when their three daily meals appeared, and being isolated one per room, there was no sense of how long the confinement would last.

Surprisingly, both chose to settle into silence early, not curious about the profound quiet. Jiyu sensed Jing Zhiming’s benevolence, while Duan Peng seemed naturally attuned to such stillness.

In the monitoring room, Zhang Xudong gazed at the screens showing the two, asking, "Captain, how long do you think they can endure?"

“It’s hard to say. Seven days is typically the limit before a normal person loses their sanity. They should last beyond that,” Duan Peng replied.

“They haven’t undergone any prior training. Is it safe to push them to the limit on their first try? This isn’t just about sustaining injuries,” Zhang Xudong expressed concern.

Jing Zhiming cautiously responded, “I’m aware. I’ve already requested electroencephalogram monitors. If their brainwave frequencies show abnormal fluctuations, we’ll release them immediately.”

“You actually secured those devices?” Zhang Xudong looked at the captain with surprise and admiration.

“I sent their profiles to headquarters for review,” Jing Zhiming said with a hint of pride. Opportunities like this were rare—nurturing two outstanding talents personally would elevate his standing in the Jinjiang Special Forces.

Day one: silent meditation.

Day two: silent meditation.

...

The real test was for Duan Peng. By the third day, Jiyu was already exchanging continuous life-information waves with Xu Yan. He barely sensed his thoughts pausing thereafter.

Xu Yan appeared deeply engaged with the various theories Jiyu proposed; their discussions were vibrant. Thus, the monitor displayed two contrasting states—both meditative, yet Duan Peng’s expression remained nearly unchanged, while Xu Yan’s face flickered with strange expressions, sometimes satisfied smiles, other times astonishment.

“This is strange!” Jing Zhiming voiced his worry on the fourth day. Xu Yan's facial expressions were far too animated.

“Activate the brainwave monitors,” Jing Zhiming ordered without hesitation.

In the silent room, Jiyu furrowed his brow and said, “Xu Yan, don’t transmit information for now.”

Back in the control room, Jing Zhiming’s gaze fixed on Xu Yan’s brainwave feedback chart. At activation, two lines briefly appeared before one disappeared, leaving a single trace. Duan Peng’s chart showed only one line.

“What’s going on?” Jing Zhiming asked the operator.

The operator looked puzzled. “I’m not sure. It might be the effect of starting two devices simultaneously.”

Though fleeting, the chart clearly indicated two lines when first activated in Xu Yan’s chamber.

Minutes later, Jing Zhiming anxiously inquired, “Is it stable now?”

“Yes, likely just a transient startup effect. This is training equipment, so minor glitches are expected,” the operator assured after thorough checks. “The brainwaves in Room One are calmer, while Room Two’s are more active.”

“Any anomalies?” Jing Zhiming was chiefly concerned about their well-being.

“None. They’re just processing differently—one with extreme stillness, the other with continuous mental activity.”

Hearing this, Jing Zhiming breathed a sigh of relief. Xu Yan was clearly a thoughtful and daring thinker.

Day four: silent meditation, brainwave monitors normal.

Day five...

By the eighth day, Duan Peng’s brainwave monitor in Room One flickered abnormally but quickly stabilized.

On the tenth day, Xu Yan’s brainwave fluctuations triggered an alarm on the recording chart.

“Release the low-frequency sound,” Jing Zhiming ordered swiftly.

“Room Two?” the operator asked.

“No, both rooms simultaneously,” Jing Zhiming decisively commanded.

Though somewhat regretful, ten days was already admirable—surpassing the minimum threshold set by superiors. Room Two had not experienced even a single abnormal flicker before; though the alarm was brief, it was sufficient.

He believed it wouldn’t be long before Room One followed suit. Despite their differing coping methods, their capabilities were comparable.

Duan Peng was the first to show signs of strain, but he managed it. Xu Yan had no prior anomalies, so when one occurred, it triggered alarms that were promptly controlled.

This was only a test; their results were excellent.

Originally, Jing Zhiming had hoped they might exceed certain benchmarks. Yet, lacking systematic and professional training, miracles weren’t to be expected on the first try.

After thirty minutes of low-frequency sound, the audio gradually normalized, the isolation level of the silent rooms was eased, and the brainwave monitors were finally shut down.

Inside Room Two, Jiyu’s life information waves emitted an exclamation: “This is simply marvelous.”

Xu Yan mentally asked, “Are you alright?”

“You’re doing it wrong. Information waves transmit silently; it’s not self-questioning but directed communication, just as you’ve been doing,” Jiyu instructed on the technique. Though it was his first time encountering it, the simple principles were easy to analyze with his knowledge.

Yet, as he spoke, a strange feeling crept over him.

How could Xu Yan be self-questioning inside his own mind?

And yet, moments ago, he had used life information waves to transmit messages to Xu Yan!

Two hours passed with the room’s ambient sound matching the outside world. After another hour, the silent room doors finally opened.

Xu Yan and Duan Peng stepped out.

Xu Yan approached and extended his hand toward Duan Peng.

Surprised that Xu Yan was initiating the greeting for the first time, Duan Peng quickly reached out. Their palms met with a light clap in midair.

“Good brother, looks like we’ve passed another hurdle,” Xu Yan said with excitement.

Duan Peng was even more astonished—after ten days in isolation, Xu Yan seemed like a different person altogether.