bookbashuk Chapter 9 The Barrel Effect
Chapter 9 The Barrel Effect
Zhuge Yan leaned against a bamboo pole by the rock and began to do arithmetic in his mind.
When the brain is overclocked, neurons fire at frequencies far exceeding normal levels.
Electrical signal transmission requires ATP—adenosine triphosphate, the most basic energy currency in the human body.
Under normal circumstances, one glucose molecule can produce more than thirty ATP molecules through aerobic respiration.
However, in overclocked mode, the brain's demand for ATP increases dramatically, and the mitochondria in the cells must operate at full speed.
Mitochondria at full speed produce two things: ATP and heat.
Calories?
Zhuge Yan suddenly remembered something.
He overclocked the device three times, and each time he had a strange feeling afterward.
It's not a headache, but the temperature of my head seems to be slightly higher than the rest of my body.
The temperature difference was so subtle that he would never have noticed it if he hadn't had a far greater sensitivity to his body than the average person.
He initially thought it was a hallucination caused by a nosebleed and dizziness.
Looking back now, it was the waste heat generated by the brain working at high speed.
Those computer enthusiasts who used to overclock in the past know that the biggest enemy of CPU overclocking is not voltage, but temperature.
If the heat dissipation cannot keep up, it will cause the frequency to drop and the screen to go blue, or even burn out completely.
The same applies to the human brain.
The normal normal temperature of the brain is between 37 and 38 degrees Celsius.
If overclocking causes local temperature to rise, and the body's heat dissipation system, such as blood flow, sweat evaporation, and heat dissipation from the body surface, cannot keep up, then the brain will be directly "cooked" by the heat it generates.
Thinking of this, Zhuge Yan suddenly broke out in a thin layer of sweat on his back.
It wasn't the heat, it was the lingering fear.
Last night, he used "Xuanji" for the first time, using one-thousandth of his Qi, and lasted for five to seven breaths.
Then he bled from all seven orifices and remained unconscious all night.
At that time, Zhuge Yan always thought it was caused by the Qi getting out of control in his brain, but now he suddenly realized that it might not be entirely the case!
When the brain over-breaths for five to seven breaths, the heat generated cannot be dissipated through the blood and skull in time, causing a sharp rise in local temperature and rupture of capillaries, which leads to bleeding from the seven orifices.
That's not going crazy, it's overheating, it's the brain overheating!
Zhuge Yan buried his face in his palms and rubbed it vigorously.
Then he looked up and pulled a small piece of charcoal pencil and a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
This was a habit he developed in his previous life: he would write down things he couldn't figure out.
He laid the paper on the stone and began to draw a wooden bucket.
First, draw the bottom of the bucket, which represents the foundation of the physical body, that is, the "life" in the cultivation of life.
The barrel walls were made of wooden planks, on which he wrote down in order: Qi quantity, fine control of Qi, ATP supply efficiency, heat dissipation capacity, tolerance of the nervous system, and recovery speed.
The water in the bucket represents "overclocking time".
The amount of water a wooden bucket can hold depends not on the longest plank, but on the shortest.
Of the three overclocks from yesterday to today, his "precise control of Qi" is the strongest. Because it is an innate ability, he can separate one-thousandth or even one-two-thousandth of the extremely fine Qi flow and precisely send it into the cerebral cortex.
However, its "ATP supply efficiency" and "heat dissipation capacity" are shockingly weak!
The overclocking, which sustained him for five to seven breaths, caused him to bleed from all seven orifices and remain unconscious all night.
Two overclocks that sustained three breaths caused him to eat nine bowls of rice, and his head temperature became abnormal.
Zhuge Yan drew a plus sign next to "ATP supply efficiency" and labeled it: food intake.
Another question mark appears – can simply eating more solve the problem?
The human body has a limit to its digestive and absorption efficiency; nine bowls of rice is already the limit. You can't keep eating all day long.
Moreover, most of the energy converted from food is consumed by the digestive system itself, and only a limited proportion is actually delivered to the brain.
There's nothing we can do about it, after all, he's not even ten years old yet, which is the time when a child is growing.
If the brain takes all the energy, it will affect the body's natural development, which is actually a loss.
He also drew a plus sign next to "heat dissipation capacity" and labeled it: Blood flow rate? Sweat?
However, he currently has no control over either of these two aspects.
His innate ability is to control his body, but blood flow is an autonomic movement of smooth muscle, not voluntary muscle.
He can control his heart rate by influencing the sinoatrial node.
However, the dilation and contraction of blood vessels and the secretion of sweat glands are not within his control.
Well, at least not for now...
Zhuge Yan stared at the wooden bucket on the paper and remained silent for a long time.
It turns out that from yesterday until now, he had been thinking he was exploring a shortcut.
By overclocking their brains, they bypassed the long and arduous cultivation process of the Wuhou School, leaping over a threshold that others would take months or even years to cross.
But there are no real shortcuts in the world.
Each time he overclocked, he appeared to pay the price with nosebleeds and headaches, but in reality, his entire body was paying the price for those few breaths of "cheating".
Qi is the ignition switch, ATP is the fuel, and heat dissipation is the cooling system.
If any one of these three things is missing, the "mystery" is that of an engine that will eventually blow up.
Once he embarks on this path, his entire life will be held hostage by it.
Every bite of food he eats, every breath he breathes, every drop of blood flowing through his body will be devoured by this perpetually hungry machine.
If he can't keep up with its demands, it will devour him.
In other words, from the moment the "mystery" is unlocked, not only must one master the art of Qimen Dunjia, but one's own life foundation must also be diligently honed.
At this moment, Zhuge Yan couldn't help but once again marvel at the foresight of Zhuge Liang, the ancestor of the Wuhou School.
No wonder he set the rule early on that disciples of the Wuhou School must hone their external martial arts skills while practicing Qimen Dunjia techniques.
Zhuge Yan put down the charcoal pencil and leaned it back against the bamboo pole.
The bamboo leaves rustled overhead, and dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, slowly moving across his face.
Nine bowls of rice.
Starting tomorrow, his appetite will become a legend in the kitchens of the Wuhou School.
In a few days, the entire family will know that the patriarch's family's innate genius has not only failed to enter the sect after two years, but is now even going crazy over eating.
Zhuge Zhao will probably be laughing even harder, right?
Zhuge Yan's lips twitched.
It wasn't a bitter smile, but a self-deprecating sense of relief.
Let him laugh. Compared to bleeding from all seven orifices, overheating of the brain, or the whole "barrel theory" he just drew on paper, what does it matter if he laughs a few times?
He stood up from the rock, folded the paper, and put it back in his pocket.
The first training bell of the afternoon rang out from outside the bamboo forest, towards the martial arts training ground, signaling the start of afternoon practice.
Zhuge Yan patted the bamboo leaves off his robe. His stomach was finally completely at ease, and the energy from the nine bowls of rice was slowly circulating in his body.
Most of them are ascending along the spine, converging near the Fengchi acupoint, like a swarm of silent worker ants, lining up to enter that insatiable anthill—his brain.
Zhuge Yan took a deep breath and walked out of the bamboo forest.
He walked a few steps, then stopped and looked back at the smooth, large rock.
The stone still retained the warmth of where he had sat, and on the bamboo pole beside it, there was a shallow mark worn down by him leaning against it for two years.
For two years, he sat on this rock, thinking only of "why I can't do it."
Today, as he sits here, he is thinking about "how to make the shortest plank of the barrel longer"!
Zhuge Yan turned around and walked towards the training ground.
The shadows of the bamboo forest closed behind him, like a door slowly shutting down.