Rehabilitation Training (Final Webnovel Version)
The atmosphere in the underground base shifted.
Subtly.
But unmistakably.
That single tap on the screen…
That clear, steady gaze—
It was like someone flipped a switch.
The suffocating tension that had lingered for days finally broke.
Replaced by something lighter.
Alive.
Relief.
Hope.
Momentum.
Old Wu conducted a full examination on Er'gou—on Silas Moore.
Conclusion:
Higher cognition: restored
Neural response: back to baseline
Physical condition: weakened
"The shutdown period hit him hard," Old Wu said bluntly. "Energy intake was too low. We rebuild from scratch."
He slapped the training plan onto the table.
"No advanced drills."
"No combat."
"Endurance. Basic obedience. Sensory precision."
Then he looked straight at Silas.
"Most important—"
"Re-sync your brain and body."
"No more of that 'mind goes east, paws dig west' lag."
Silas Moore lowered his gaze to the plan.
Then—
Nodded.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Because no one understood that "lag" better than him.
That feeling—
Of being trapped inside slow, unresponsive flesh—
He had no intention of experiencing it again.
Phase One: Endurance
No more brutal obstacle runs.
No combat simulations.
Just—
Steady jogging.
Soft mats.
Controlled movement.
Ironfang and the others were strictly forbidden from interfering.
They lay in the distance—
Watching.
Their "leader"…
Running laps.
Silas Moore moved with precision.
Each step measured.
Each breath controlled.
But ten minutes in—
His pace dropped.
His chest rose harder.
Tongue slightly out.
Heat regulation kicking in.
The damage from those "offline" days was real.
Lin Wan stood nearby with water and a towel.
Watching.
Worried.
But she didn't interrupt.
Silas didn't stop.
He finished the full set.
Every second.
Only then did he walk over.
Drink water.
Slowly.
Controlled.
Still breathing heavier than usual.
Then—
A glance.
At Ironfang.
A flicker passed through his blue eyes.
Barely noticeable.
Competition.
Old Wu scribbled notes.
"Endurance foundation intact."
"Recovery curve acceptable."
"Afternoon—basic commands and sensory recalibration."
Phase Two: Basic Commands
For a dog who used to type on tablets…
This was borderline insulting.
"Sit."
A delay.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But real.
Not comprehension.
Execution.
His mind issued the command instantly—
But his body followed…
Just a fraction slower.
Silas Moore frowned.
Unacceptable.
"Down."
"Stay."
"Paw."
Perfect execution.
But his eyes—
Never stopped analyzing.
Adjusting.
Refining.
Like he was debugging his own nervous system.
Phase Three: Sensory Calibration
This was where things got interesting.
Old Wu laid out over a dozen scent samples.
Nearly identical.
Subtle variations.
Only a professional perfumer could tell the difference.
Silas lowered his head.
Sniffed.
Paused.
Adjusted.
At first—
A slight hesitation.
His nose worked harder than usual.
Rebuilding precision.
Then—
Accuracy returned.
Near perfect.
No—
Better than before.
He even picked out a microscopic anomaly:
A single extra drop of expired lemon oil.
Old Wu froze for a second.
Then wrote:
"Olfactory talent—"
"Hard-coded."
"Feels… soul-bound."
Hearing Test
Now this—
Was brutal.
In the next room, Old Wu played layered noise:
Traffic.
Crowds.
Electronic frequencies.
And buried inside—
A nearly undetectable signal.
Encrypted fragments.
Residual communication noise from Entropy channels.
Silas lay flat.
Eyes half-closed.
But his ears—
Moved like radar arrays.
Tracking.
Filtering.
Then—
A shift.
His ears snapped upright.
Pupils contracted.
A low sound escaped his throat.
"…Mm."
He found it.
A hidden pattern.
A primitive signal.
An old emergency relay code used by an international rescue group.
Obscure.
Outdated.
But he caught it instantly.
Old Wu didn't speak for a few seconds.
Then quietly:
"…Confirmed."
Chen Lin watched Silas closely.
"He's not just recovering."
"He's evolving."
"Better integration."
"A human mind…"
"Using a predator's hardware."
Break Time
Lin Wan picked up the interaction toy.
Pressed:
"Coffee."
Silas glanced at it.
Didn't move.
His eyes clearly said:
Childish.
Then—
She pressed:
"Stupid human."
Before it could finish—
SMACK.
His paw came down cleanly.
"Cut."
The toy shut up instantly.
Silas looked at her.
A faint glint in his eyes.
Sharp.
Dry.
Amused.
I don't play these games.
But I decide when they end.
Lin Wan burst out laughing.
Yeah.
That attitude.
That arrogance.
That precision.
That slightly annoying, ridiculously cool presence—
Silas Moore.
Was back.
Not just recovered.
Upgraded.