I Transmigrated Into The Secret Husband Of The Zerg Marshal - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: System Reboot

A ball of anger was lodged in my chest, neither rising nor falling. Why me? Why should I have to follow their script?

K47 said the key to this training was to guide my spiritual power to actively repair my body.

Spiritual power?

I also had to concentrate intensely when I was coding in my past life. Spending a whole day hunting a bug—doesn’t that consume more spiritual power than this hypnotic-music-induced sleep?

You called my spiritual power E-, pathetically weak? Well, today I’ll show you what a programmer’s brain can do.

I closed my eyes, but instead of listening to the ethereal music, I focused all my attention, as if opening a command-line interface in my brain, skipping the tutorial, and directly modifying the underlying code.

I began to try to “see” my body.

First, I felt a gentle warmth wandering aimlessly throughout my body. Then, I tried to control it, concentrating this warm current on my lumbar spine.

This process was much harder than expected.

It was like using a dial-up modem with a 5Kb/s connection to remotely operate a triple-core i11 processor.

I sent the command, but received no response for a long time.

The moment my spiritual focus wavered, the warm current happily ran off to wander elsewhere.

“Focus, focus…” The memory of staying awake for thirty-six consecutive hours to solve a technical problem in my past life surfaced. That feeling returned—the entire world disappeared, leaving only me and the problem at hand.

Slowly, I seemed to find the trick.

The whale-song music wasn’t just a lullaby; it was a signal. Each ebb and flow of the melody was like a fixed CPU cycle, providing a stable refresh rate reference for my spiritual operation.

I stopped resisting the music and synchronized my mental frequency with it. “Sudo apt-get update…” I muttered randomly in the most familiar programmer slang. “SELECT * FROM `body_status` WHERE `location` = ‘L4-L5 lumbar’…”

A faint but clearly controllable warm current was indeed pulled from various parts of my body, like countless tiny streams of code, converging on the spot where my disc was protruding.

The perpetual ache there was now being wrapped in warm water, gradually easing.

It’s working!

My spirit lifted, and I immediately began the second “optimization project”—my dark circles that were thicker than a city wall.

If the lumbar spine was hardware damage, the dark circles were a classic UI problem caused by “system resources being perpetually occupied by inefficient processes.”

I divided a portion of my spiritual power and began to “scan” the active regions of my cerebral cortex, trying to locate the “rogue process” that was causing my poor sleep quality. Soon, I saw an abnormally active area, blinking with red alerts.

“Taskkill /F /PID anxiety.exe!”

I used all my strength, transforming my spiritual power into a virtual “pair of scissors,” and sharply snipped that red glow.

Instantly, I felt the entire world grow quiet.

Not external quiet, but an internal, unprecedented stillness.

All the messy worries about the future, the fear of the unknown, the anger at my predicament… all seemed to be dumped into the recycle bin and emptied.

I felt like a specimen preserved in formaldehyde—no, like an infant floating in amniotic fluid.

My consciousness gradually blurred, and an overwhelming wave of sleepiness washed over me.

Just before I completely drifted off, my last thought was: Shit, I overdid it. I just forced a shutdown…

I don’t know how long passed, but I was awakened by a slight nudge.

I opened my eyes. The training room lights were bright again. K47’s granite-like face was hovering directly above me.

“Your Excellency, one standard stellar hour of training has concluded.”

I sat up from the jelly-like floor, surprised to find that I didn’t have the grogginess of just waking up. Instead, I felt refreshed, as if my CPU had just been given new thermal paste—the operating speed had increased significantly.

I subconsciously touched my lower back. The deep, chronic ache that had resided there for years had genuinely lessened by more than half!

“How do you feel, Your Excellency?” K47 asked routinely.

“I… I’m alright,” I mumbled an answer, my heart churning.

Holy cow, am I really a genius?

“Please wait. I need to download your training data and generate the report.” K47 said, walking over to a nearby control panel, his fingers swiftly working on the virtual screen.

My heart hammered.

Would he discover my unorthodox methods? Would the data show any anomalies?

A few seconds later, K47 stopped his operation.

He didn’t turn around immediately, remaining fixated on the screen, like a frozen program.

My heart sank.

Something went wrong.

“Coach K47?” I tentatively called the granite man, trying to shift the focus. “Did the… machine break? Should I help you reboot it?”

K47 slowly turned around. For the first time, I could read the emotion in his perpetually stoic eyes.

It wasn’t anger or suspicion; it was… a haunted, extreme confusion.

“Your Excellency Chen Jiuliu,” his voice lacked its usual stability, “Your training report… is somewhat strange.”

“Strange how?” I thought, I’m about to be exposed, but maintained a calm demeanor, my palms starting to sweat.

K47 rotated the virtual screen toward me.

“According to model analysis,” K47 pointed a presentation stylus at a sharp drop on the graph. “At the 37th minute of your training, your spiritual power was almost instantly depleted, entering a state of ‘ultra-deep hibernation,’ which is theoretically only possible after ultra-A-level or higher Female Insects’ maximal combat.”

He paused, seeming to search for the right words to describe my data.

“Furthermore, your physical repair efficiency… exceeded the system’s optimal projection by 73.4%.”

K47 looked up, staring intently at me, his gaze like he was looking at a monster in human skin.

“Your Excellency, what exactly did you do during the training?”

I looked at his ghost-struck face and then at the glaring 73.4% on the report. My earlier anxiety vanished, replaced by an unprecedented, exhilarating feeling of triumph!

“Ahem!”

I cleared my throat, straightened my back, and, mimicking the demeanor of my confidential husband, Arnold, spoke faintly and cryptically:

“It was nothing.”

“Just using the country method from my hometown to run an anti-virus and reboot the system of this old computer of mine.”