It was lively enough to provide interesting data, and its cognitive abilities would offer a clear test of the system's effect on intelligence.
But more importantly, he wanted to see if the optimization could influence loyalty—could the system be used to impose a mental and emotional bond?
At midnight sharp.
Martin closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar sensation of life-force deep within his core. The bronze token materialized in his mind, golden lines twisting and forming as the bell chimed softly in the back of his consciousness. This was the moment of truth.
"I wish to optimize the parrot's body and mind, enhancing its loyalty toward me."
The words slipped easily from his lips, and the token dissolved into a cascade of shimmering light, flowing into the parrot's cage.
The bird squawked loudly, its body trembling as the energy washed over it. Martin felt a faint pull on his life-force, the drain noticeable but not overwhelming—far less than what he had expected.
His pulse quickened as he waited for the effects to take hold. The parrot twitched and flapped its wings, its movements jerky and uncoordinated for a moment.
Then, slowly, it calmed down. Its eyes, once wide with confusion, now focused on Martin with a different kind of awareness—an almost unnatural clarity.
Martin opened the cage door and extended his hand. The parrot, once indifferent and skittish, now hopped onto his hand with purpose. It looked up at him, tilting its head as if awaiting instructions.
Martin's heart raced as he tested the bird's obedience, giving it simple commands. To his astonishment, the parrot followed each one without hesitation—something it had never done before.
A smile crept across his face. The optimization had worked.
But as the initial excitement began to fade, Martin realized something crucial: while the parrot had indeed become more obedient, there was no emotional bond. It wasn't loyalty in the sense that he had hoped for.
The parrot was following orders, yes, but it was more like an automaton, programmed to obey rather than genuinely loyal to him.
Martin frowned. The system's power was undeniable, but it couldn't create emotions out of thin air.
It could optimize the mind to follow commands, but loyalty—true, emotional loyalty—was something else entirely.
This experiment had given him a lot to think about, but he couldn't dwell on it for long.
Perhaps it was because the Intelligence Quotient and Emotional Quotient of animals was much lesser than humans. If possible, he should have brought a monkey to test things out more clearly.
There were still three more animals to test, and he needed to see if the drain on his life-force varied with each subject.
Tomorrow, he would move on to the owl.
The next three days passed in a whirlwind for Martin, each day blending into the next as he dove deeper into his experiments with the animals. While each day was filled with mundane activities, like morning workouts and research, the true focus came each night with the midnight wish.
The first experiment with the parrot had shown promising results, but Martin was eager to see how different animals responded to the system's optimization.
On the second day, after his usual routine of studying life-force theories and occasionally catching up with Lucia via phone calls, Martin prepared for his next subject—the owl.
The bird had been the most mysterious of his pets, its sharp eyes always following him with an intelligence that unnerved him at times.
Midnight arrived, and Martin spoke his wish clearly: "I wish to optimize the owl's body and mind, enhancing its loyalty toward me."
As before, the bronze token dissolved into glowing lines of energy, surging into the owl's enclosure. The bird let out a low, hooting sound as the energy worked its way through its body. Martin watched closely as the owl's wings fluttered slightly before it stilled completely, its glowing eyes locked onto his.
When he opened the cage, the owl remained perched for a moment, staring at Martin with an intensity that made him pause. Then, with graceful precision, it flew onto his arm, its sharp talons digging slightly into his sleeve.
Unlike the parrot, the owl's intelligence seemed deeper, more calculating. Its movements were deliberate, as if it were analyzing Martin's every command, its loyalty tempered by a cautious awareness of its surroundings.
By the end of the second day, Martin was beginning to see a pattern emerge. The optimization process affected each animal differently, depending on its natural intelligence and emotional capacity.
The owl, with its sharp instincts, followed commands but exhibited a sense of independence—more like an ally than a subordinate. Its loyalty was there, but it felt conditional, as if the owl was loyal only as long as Martin remained worthy of its respect.
The third day, Martin turned his attention to the lizard. It was the least interactive of the animals, showing little emotion or awareness beyond its basic instincts.
After spending the day in a routine of research and brief meetings over video calls with Lucia, Martin focused his mind once again when midnight arrived.
"I wish to optimize the lizard's body and mind, enhancing its loyalty toward me."
As expected, the system activated, and the familiar energy pulsed through the air, enveloping the lizard. However, unlike the owl or the parrot, the lizard's reaction was far less dramatic. It barely moved, its reptilian eyes blinking slowly as if processing the changes.
Martin waited for a moment, then opened the enclosure. The lizard remained still, but when he placed his hand inside, it slowly crawled onto his palm. There was no sign of hostility, but neither was there any significant loyalty.
The lizard simply accepted his commands, moving when instructed but without the natural attachment he had seen in the other animals.
This confirmed Martin's growing theory—the system's ability to instill loyalty was heavily dependent on the emotional and intellectual capacity of the creature. The lizard, with its basic instincts, followed commands mechanically, devoid of any emotional connection.
There was no fear or aggression, but there was also no true bond.
The fourth and final day of experimentation arrived, and Martin saved the husky for last. The dog had shown the most emotional attachment from the start, its tail wagging and its eyes bright whenever he approached.
After another long day of research and contemplation, Martin felt a sense of anticipation building as midnight approached.
When the time came, Martin made his wish: "I wish to optimize the husky's body and mind, enhancing its loyalty toward me."
The silver light flowed into the dog, and Martin watched as the husky twitched and whined softly, its body trembling for a brief moment before settling. When the energy faded, Martin opened the cage and called the dog's name.
The difference was immediate. The husky bounded toward him with even more energy than before, but something had changed. There was an intelligence in its eyes that hadn't been there before.
The dog's movements were more controlled, more deliberate. It no longer seemed to act on pure instinct but displayed a level of understanding that astounded Martin.
Over the course of the next hour, Martin tested the husky's obedience and behavior. What he found was remarkable.
The dog now exhibited the intelligence of a human toddler, able to understand basic commands, recognize complex emotional cues, and even respond with empathy.
The loyalty that Martin had been seeking was fully present, but it was accompanied by a natural bond that made the husky feel like a true companion, not just a subservient pet.
By the end of the fourth day, Martin had gathered a wealth of data from his experiments. The parrot, while obedient, lacked the emotional depth of the husky. The owl had developed a cautious loyalty, respecting Martin but maintaining its own sense of independence.
The lizard, while optimized, remained emotionally distant, following commands without any real attachment.
And the husky, with its high emotional quotient, had developed the intelligence of a young child, showing both loyalty and understanding in a way that none of the other animals had.
Martin leaned back in his chair, contemplating the results. It was clear now—the IQ and EQ of a creature played a crucial role in determining how the system's optimization affected their loyalty and behavior.
The more emotionally intelligent the creature, the stronger the bond. This knowledge opened up new possibilities, but also new challenges. If he were to apply this to human subjects, the consequences could be far more complex than he had anticipated.
As the midnight hour drew to a close, Martin made one final note in his journal: The true potential of optimization lies not in the body but in the mind.