Chapter 42 | Limits of the Body and Cognition

Li Xing had grown accustomed to the gatekeeper's solitude and understood the implicit costs of high-level calibration.But that day, for the first time, he felt that these costs were no longer merely implicit, but directly reflected in his body and cognition.In the morning, when he got up, his wrists and shoulders ached slightly—like a long-stretched string reminding him that yesterday's operation hadn't simply been physically demanding.Meanwhile, in his mind, his judgment logic experienced a slight delay at the same moment—not a mistake, but rather a deliberate compression of his attention and neural rhythm by the high-level rules.His first task soon arrived: the emergency repair of an old transport vehicle.Li Xing realized that the difficulty and risk of this operation were almost equivalent to the first time he initiated the directional activation.He tried to control the rhythm using his usual strategies, but his body clearly protested:His fingers trembled slightly, reducing operational precisionHis eyes easily missed tiny cracksHis heartbeat rhythm was subtly adjusted by space, preventing him from relaxingHe took a deep breath, forcing himself to concentrate.Even so, he found that certain nodes in his cognitive judgment chain were still delayed.This delay meant that space could no longer completely cover for him; he had to complete the operation within limited space.For three hours that morning, he repeatedly performed this high-pressure operation,each movement precise to the millimeter,each judgment requiring calculation of risk and physical endurance.By noon, his consciousness began to experience slight confusion:briefly forgetting steps, hazy memories, and disorientation regarding the order of tools.Li Xing understood—this was the first manifesting side effect of the advanced calibration.He stopped, leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and took deep breaths.Space did not actively intervene,but the faint sense of alignment remained—a reminder that any deviation was an irreversible risk.In the afternoon, he tried adjusting his strategy—reducing the intensity of operations and increasing rest intervals—but he still couldn't completely eliminate the bodily signals.After each movement, he had to sit quietly for several minutes, observing his heartbeat, breathing, and finger tremors.Even a brief moment of negligence could trigger a chain of risks.In the evening, after repairing the last piece of equipment, he slumped down beside the workbench.His shoulders and wrists ached, but his mind remained tense.He opened his notebook and jotted down today's observations:The side effects of higher-order calibration had become explicit.Physical limits were significantly compressing operational error tolerance.Cognitive chains were delayed, and attention remained constantly tense.Emotions had to be completely stable, otherwise the side effects would worsen.The gatekeeper's role meant there was no escaping the consequences.After writing, he remained silent for a long time.This time, he deeply felt that:The gatekeeper's cost was no longer just isolation and responsibility,but a high-order pressure encompassing the physical, cognitive, and psychological aspects.A gentle night breeze blew outside the window; the streets were empty.Li Xing leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.He understood that there was no turning back on this path.Every choice, every judgment,had to come at a price.The gatekeeper's loneliness and the associated costs,from this moment on, had become a part of his life.