The door to the conference room closed behind him, shutting out the thunderous roar of fanaticism and excitement.
The hallway lights were cold and silent, the air still faintly tasting of champagne and adrenaline.
Paul didn't look back, nor did he pause for a moment.
The press conference, an event that would have been recorded in the annals of any other tech company, felt to him like a tedious, obligatory ritual before the start of a long journey.
Thirteen percent of the shares, a thirty percent salary increase, the NERvGear, Sword Art Online...
Every word he had thrown out was like a depth charge, setting off colossal waves in the hearts of his employees and executives.
But Paul's own heart was as placid as a bottomless ancient well.
No, not placid.
Beneath the calm surface, a far more violent magma was brewing, about to erupt.
The question from the Director of Technology, an inconspicuous spark, had just ignited the true powder keg in his mind.
Microwave emitters… signal synchronization… safety…
Within the NERvGear project, these were merely components of a backup plan, one he had bypassed with a superior technological path.
But in another dimension, they touched upon a more core, more fundamental conflict.
The limits of human thought.
He returned to his exclusive top-floor laboratory. Beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lay the dazzling nightscape of New York, like a river of stars unfurled before him.
Paul didn't turn on the lights, letting the city's neon glow stretch his shadow long across the floor.
He walked to the center of the lab and swiped a finger through the air.
"JARVIS, initiate the 'Blank Canvas' protocol."
"As you wish, sir."
The walls, ceiling, and floor of the entire laboratory were instantly covered in a soft white light, transforming into a boundless virtual canvas. Countless data streams and design sketches flickered in and out of existence.
Paul closed his eyes.
A tide of exhaustion washed over him, but the storm in his mind only raged more fiercely.
Why create the NERvGear?
To change the world? To make money? To surpass Tony Stark?
It was all of these things, and none of them.
The most fundamental reason was that he couldn't wait any longer.
The technological reserves in his mind were like an endless treasure trove. But his time, his energy, the physiological limits of his existence as a member of the "human" species—these were heavy shackles.
He needed to advance the Iron Man project and the Transformers project simultaneously, while also guarding against Obadiah, keeping an eye on S.H.I.E.L.D., and in the future, possibly even Thanos…
Each one required a massive investment of time for design, simulation, and trial and error.
He only had twenty-four hours in a day.
It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough!
Therefore, he needed… to accelerate!
Not to accelerate the world, but to accelerate himself!
A wild idea fully formed in his mind, as clear as a bolt of lightning tearing through the night sky.
*Accel World*!
That other story about brain-computer interfaces from his past life, conceived by the same author, Reki Kawahara.
"Brain Burst," the Incarnate System, allowed thought to be accelerated a thousand times.
In that world, the protagonists could experience sixteen minutes and forty seconds in the span of a single second.
What if… what if he applied this technology to scientific research?
Paul's breathing suddenly quickened.
One hour of real time would equal a thousand hours of virtual time.
That would be over forty days!
He could spend a single all-nighter in this "accelerated laboratory" to complete simulations and theoretical designs that would have previously taken a year!
He would be completely unshackled from the constraints of time!
This idea was a thousand times more insane than "Sword Art Online"!
If the NERvGear was an entertainment device sold to the world, then this "Virtual Laboratory" would be the stairway to godhood that he would build for himself!
"Feasibility analysis," Paul muttered, his fingers dancing rapidly in the air.
Streams of data and technical frameworks materialized before him, reconfiguring and colliding.
The hardware foundation?
He had it. The NERvGear's neural interface terminal was a ready-made platform. He just needed to heavily modify it, to "jailbreak" it and unlock its full potential. The combined technological reserves of Stark Industries and Paul's own research center were more than enough to build the world's most advanced brain-computer interface hardware.
The software core?
That was the crux of it.
He no longer needed a simple virtual world operating system, but an "overclocking system" capable of guiding and withstanding the brain's frequency resonance.
It needed to precisely deceive the cerebral cortex, forcing neurons to process information at a thousand times the normal speed, all while maintaining logical self-consistency to prevent the user from having a mental breakdown in the accelerated state.
This required a complete reconstruction of the underlying algorithmic logic, demanding simulations and interventions in the brain's bio-currents and the release and reuptake of neurotransmitters, all with nanosecond precision.
It was difficult.
But for Paul, who possessed the creative mind of Hiro Hamada and a vision far beyond this era, it was not an insurmountable chasm.
The fatigue vanished from his face, replaced by an almost fanatical confidence.
He could do it!
He was already starting to conceive the code in his mind, lines of virtual commands flowing before his eyes like a river of code leading to the future.
However, just as he was immersing himself in this feeling of omnipotent control, a cold question surfaced in his mind, dousing him like a bucket of ice water.
Energy.
An adult brain consumes about 20 watts of power, accounting for 20% of the body's total energy expenditure.
If thought were accelerated a thousandfold, the brain's instantaneous power consumption would theoretically soar to a horrifying 20,000 watts, or 20 kilowatts!
That was equivalent to a high-power industrial welding machine operating at full capacity!
No human body could sustain such terrifying energy consumption.
It wouldn't take a minute, not even ten seconds, before the user's brain cells would die off en masse due to glucose and oxygen depletion, turning them into a "vegetable" in the truest sense of the word.
This was the limit of the human body.
The inescapable fate of a carbon-based life form.
Paul's movements halted. The lab fell into a dead silence once more.
He stood before the massive virtual canvas, his brow deeply furrowed.
This problem was far trickier than building the software algorithm.
Unless…
He could bypass the body's own energy supply system.
Unless…
He could turn the user into… a "cultivated" organ.
A thought emerged from the depths of his memory.
It came from another classic anime from his past life.
*Neon Genesis Evangelion*, EVA.
The "Entry Plug" the pilots lay in, filled with a viscous, orange fluid.
LCL fluid. Not only did it supply oxygen and cushion physical impacts, but it also had a mind-link function.
Slowly, a light began to dawn in Paul's eyes.
He didn't need to replicate LCL perfectly, but he could borrow the concept!
The Nutrient Stasis Pod!
The medical device he had previously designed for himself to quickly recover from high-intensity work.
He could radically modify it!
Transform it from an "auxiliary device" into a true "external life support system"!
A high-concentration solution of glucose, amino acids, and electrolytes, injected directly into the bloodstream via an external circulatory system.
High-pressure liquid oxygen, bypassing the lungs to perform gas exchange directly with the blood.
A precise metabolic waste removal system, filtering out lactic acid and carbon dioxide from the blood in real time.
And coupled with a powerful cooling system to counteract the terrifying heat generated by the overclocked brain…
Lying inside, the user's body would enter a state of deep hibernation, with all physiological functions managed by the machine.
And their consciousness, meanwhile, could soar freely in the virtual laboratory at a thousand times the normal speed.
A perfect closed loop.
A solution both brilliant and insane.
Paul let out a long breath, his chest heaving.
He had done it. In theory, he had conquered the greatest obstacle.
But an indescribable chill slowly crept up his spine.
He turned slowly to look at the prototype of the silver-white stasis pod in the corner of the lab, a device of sleek, technological beauty.
Its smooth lines, in his eyes now, resembled an exquisite coffin.
This project had already stepped beyond the realm of "technology" and into a forbidden domain.
It blurred the line between human and machine.
It turned a person into a "biological battery" for sustaining a brain.
Furthermore, if this system were to have even the slightest malfunction—a miscalculation in the nutrient fluid ratio, or a failure in the cooling system—the person lying inside would, with their perception accelerated a thousand times, clearly and slowly… experience the entire process of being "burned" alive.
It would be a form of torture unimaginable even in hell.
Paul stood frozen in place for a long time.
The city's neon lights flickered in his eyes, ever-changing.
Finally, he raised his hand and swiped it in the air, in the direction of the stasis pod prototype.
A blue blueprint unfolded out of thin air.
[Project Name: High-Efficiency Nutrient Stasis Pod MK1]
His fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard for a moment.
Then, he deleted the line.
And typed anew.
[Project Name: Prometheus]
Having done this, he whispered softly to himself.
"I hope… I can afford the price for stealing fire."