The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Jiang Hui didn’t think too much about it, as she encountered a minor accident during her experiment.

In fact, Jiang Hui’s mental power was quite unusual. According to interstellar standards, her mental power level, as well as her potential for advancement, was considered very strong. Even if it wasn’t at the absolute top level, she was undoubtedly classified as a high-potential awakener.

For this type of incompletely awakened individual, their mental power is usually highly aggressive and lacks stability. Therefore, when their emotions are unstable, they tend to misuse the uncontrollable portion of their mental power. If their nervous system spirals out of control as a result, it could even cause fundamental damage. For this reason, the Empire conducts large-scale medical examinations for incompletely awakened individuals every year.

Theoretically, the earlier high-potential incompletely awakened individuals are discovered and guided, the safer it is, and the easier it becomes for them to smoothly navigate their awakening period.

Jiang Hui wasn’t sure whether it was due to the so-called “closed-off brain domain” issue or the peculiar nature of the soul inhabiting her body. Aside from the period right after she first arrived in the interstellar world when her mental power was damaged, her mental power later became abnormally stable and tranquil, completely unshakable, no matter what happened.

Even though the soul in her body belonged to an adult, wasn’t this level of stability a bit too much? She had even heard Huan Xian mention that it was almost impossible to sense any information from her mental power field when near her. Even on the rare occasion when there was a trace of it, it was mostly pure, diffuse mental energy, lacking any key emotional information.

However, what Jiang Hui found truly strange wasn’t the above; it was the amount of mental energy stored in her brain domain.

She actually noticed this during the competition. At first, it was only a vague suspicion, which was muddled by other distractions. But after the competition ended, she was almost certain of it.

After the orienteering competition ended, their lives returned to normal. Jiang Hui resumed her typical rhythm of 48-hour days. However, after the grueling 36-star-hour competition, when she entered the space for the first time post-competition, she inevitably went on a binge-eating spree.

This time, it was fiercer than any before. Uh… she wondered if she kept describing it this way, would there come a day when she’d be so hungry that she’d even chew herself up?

She had no idea how long she had been eating. In a dazed state, it felt like she was eventually ejected from the space. Upon waking, the overwhelming hunger seemed to have followed her into the real world. As a result, she couldn’t help but eat and drink excessively to alleviate the burning sensation in her stomach and intestines.

She devoured every single food item her R186 teammates and classmates had brought as gifts, yet it still wasn’t enough. In the end, because she couldn’t leave the medical center, she fell asleep with that gnawing hunger.

The outcome? The next day, the medical staff conducting her check-up gave her a stern scolding, saying she had eaten too much and too quickly, damaging her stomach. She had come dangerously close to needing a gastric lavage…

Although her stomach was uncomfortably bloated and the therapist scolded her harshly, Jiang Hui’s mental state improved significantly afterward. It felt as if she had returned to the fullness she experienced before the competition, as though the prior medical reports diagnosing her with mental power exhaustion were entirely fabricated. Even the therapist responsible for her treatment was baffled by how quickly her mental power had recovered.

Of course, Jiang Hui merely smiled and stayed silent, though she had already reached a conclusion in her mind.

The food and drink she consumed in that mysterious space weren’t illusions, as she had once thought—they were manifestations of her mental power, representing part of her own mental energy.

After excessive consumption and depletion in the real world, her subconscious would instinctively replenish herself as soon as she entered the mental space. The mental energy stored there naturally became the best supplement.

This explained why every time she ate and drank her fill in the mental space, no matter how mentally exhausted she was before, she would wake up feeling revitalized and full of energy again.

It also provided a reasonable explanation for how, during the orienteering competition, she managed to suddenly summon strength from seemingly nowhere during moments of extreme exhaustion.

However, the more Jiang Hui thought about it, the more puzzled she became. If all the mental energy she used came from this mysterious mental space, where did the energy in the space itself originate?

The food in the kitchen that replenished itself endlessly after each meal, the objects that seemed to appear out of thin air based on her analysis and imagination, and the additional 24 hours she gained in the space—none of these could be easily explained. Could this mental space truly be a “golden finger” that created something from nothing?

Despite her best efforts, Jiang Hui couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But with her current level of knowledge, she couldn’t find any further clues. For now, she decided to set the matter aside. At least she had uncovered another piece of the puzzle for the time being.

Based on her earlier deductions, Jiang Hui could essentially conclude that her mental power reserves far exceeded the level of A, A+, or even S. It likely surpassed what she could comprehend or imagine.

So… could someone explain why, even before she had fully followed Stark’s instructions, she felt as though her mental power had been forcefully “sucked” by the mental power threshold capture device above her?

Wait—she hadn’t even finished the procedure yet. Was this thing malfunctioning?

Jiang Hui felt her vision go black for an instant. Then, as if influenced by an electromagnetic wave, the darkness before her eyes was filled with countless flickering, intertwined black and colorful lines, trembling violently. Soon after, her normal vision returned.

However, the scene in front of her seemed… different.

She was still in the mecha battle training hall.

The cockpit appeared to be the same one she had entered earlier, but her field of vision had suddenly expanded. The walls and components on either side had vanished, leaving her with what felt like an unobstructed, barrier-free perspective. The workstation in front of her was still there, but it now appeared more like a projection, with only the vast, blank blue interface in front of her remaining unchanged.

No, it couldn’t be called blank anymore.

Suddenly, a progress bar appeared on the blue screen to the right and began advancing rapidly. Before Jiang Hui could even blink, the screen displayed a complex three-dimensional ring-shaped diagram, densely packed with countless points and dotted lines she couldn’t decipher.

At the same time, the large screen on the left also changed. Unlike the incomprehensible 3D diagram on the right, the new image on the left immediately grabbed her attention.

It showed a complete 3D schematic of a mecha, from the overall structure to the tiniest components.

Jiang Hui instantly recognized it—wasn’t this the low-grade standard mecha they were currently testing? Did this mean she had successfully connected to the mecha? Was this what it felt like to link and activate a mecha?

She felt a sense of disbelief and instinctively wanted to take a few steps forward to examine it more closely. However, in the next moment, she realized she couldn’t move.

Neither her arms nor her legs, nor even her entire body, seemed to obey her commands. They felt heavy, as if they weren’t hers to control. The only parts of her body she could move freely were her head and her eyes.