"Ethan Reed," Sam interrupted calmly, ignoring the fury in Ethan's voice, "do you know what the greatest responsibility of a student is?"
"What are you scheming now?!"
"The greatest responsibility of a student," Sam continued, adjusting his glasses, "is to study. And you, Ethan Reed, as one of the worst-performing students in the class, have become a significant drag on our collective progress. As class president, it's my duty to give you some after-school tutoring."
Sam's serious tone and the stack of books in his arms gave him the air of a model student, as if the words hardworking and exemplary were etched on his forehead.
"If you dare harm Lily, I swear—!" Ethan began, his voice filled with rage.
"Sam, you're insane! I'm not learning a damn thing!"
Sam sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Your attitude towards learning is truly abysmal. It seems I'll have to motivate you a bit."
He pulled a math workbook from the stack and set it down in front of Ethan.
"Here. Solve this trigonometry problem. All the formulas you need are in the book," Sam said, his tone deceptively casual.
"I'm not—" Ethan began to yell, but the next words out of Sam's mouth stopped him cold.
"If you can't solve it in fifteen minutes," Sam said with a chilling smile, "I'll cut off one of Miss Lily's fingers."
Ethan's head shot up, his face twisted with fury.
"Shh, don't get too worked up," Sam said, raising a finger to his lips. "I'm a man of my word. If I say I'll cut off one finger, I won't take two. Now, the chance to save her is right in front of you.
"If you truly love her and don't want her to suffer, then solve the trigonometry problem. Just one trigonometry problem," Sam said with a faint smile. "You learned this in class, and the textbook is right in front of you. If you still can't solve it… well, don't blame me."
He pulled a pocket watch from his coat, the dark gold patterns gleaming brightly under the light. Placing it on a nearby table where Ethan could clearly see it, Sam turned and walked out of the dungeon.
"Your time starts now."
Ethan hurled a string of curses after him, his voice echoing through the cold dungeon. But after venting his rage, his eyes inevitably fell to the problem in front of him. He knew all too well that Sam was capable of carrying out his threats.
"Just one trigonometry problem," Ethan muttered, exhaling deeply to steady himself. "It's simple… just a problem."
He focused on the question:
In △ABC, ∠A = 60°, a = 3, b = √3. Find the measure of ∠B.
Time ticked away—one minute, two minutes, three minutes.
"Argh! Damn it! What the hell is the value of B?!"
There's a saying: A desperate person can do anything. But evidently, this doesn't apply to math. When it comes to trigonometry, not knowing is simply not knowing.
Fifteen minutes later, Sam strolled gracefully back into the dungeon, leaning lightly on his snakewood cane. In his other hand, he held a crystal wine glass filled with deep red liquid that shimmered in the dim light.
"Well, Ethan Reed," Sam said with a calm, measured tone, "do you have the answer?"
Ethan, who had become hopelessly entangled in the math problem, snapped his head up. His bloodshot eyes looked wild, and his lips moved ceaselessly as he mumbled,
"sinB = b × sinA ÷ a… multiply √3 by sin60°… then divide by…"
"Fifteen minutes are almost up," Sam reminded with a sly smile.
"Shut up! I'm almost there! sinB = 1/2! Since a > b, ∠A > ∠B. And because sinB = 1/2, that means…"
Ethan's face lit up with sudden realization as the answer burst from his lips: "2B = 30°! Hahaha… I solved it!"
Clap, clap, clap.
Sam applauded with an expression of exaggerated satisfaction. "Congratulations, Ethan Reed. You've saved Miss Lily's finger."
But before Ethan could savor his victory, Sam produced another workbook and laid it in front of him.
"Another math problem. You have fifteen minutes. If you don't solve this one… I'll cut off one of Miss Lily's toes."
"You bastard! Sam, what the hell do you want from me?!" Ethan roared, his voice cracking with desperation.
Sam smiled faintly, unbothered by the outburst. He could see that Ethan's mental state was still holding up too well. It seemed a few more math problems would help wear him down.
"Fifteen minutes," Sam said gently, tapping his cane on the floor. "Good luck."
Mentally teetering on the brink, Ethan stared at the new math problem after his outburst.
Glancing at it, he felt an overwhelming wave of despair as his vision blurred.
[1, 3, 8, 20, 48, 112, 256]
(1) Find the general formula for this sequence.
(2) Calculate the 20th term of the sequence.
(3) From which term does the sequence exceed 10,000?
"SAM! YOU—**" Ethan's voice echoed through the dungeon, laced with raw fury.
By the next morning, Ethan hadn't slept a wink.
He had spent the entire night wrestling with endless math problems, his mind consumed by calculations. To his dismay, his mathematical skills had significantly improved. He now had a firm grasp of trigonometric formulas, arithmetic and geometric progressions, linear equations, and other "advanced mathematical techniques."
But the price was steep.
Ethan sat slumped in the chair, his hollow eyes sunken into his gaunt face. His expression was utterly blank, his soul seemingly drained.
The same group of women from before entered the dungeon, resuming their enticing dance. But this time, no matter how much they moved, posed, or laughed, Ethan's eyes didn't flicker. He didn't even blink.
In the surveillance room, Sam observed the broken figure of Ethan Reed and nodded in satisfaction. The timing was perfect—Ethan's spirit had been thoroughly crushed, paving the way for deep hypnosis.
Everything Sam had done up to this point was to wear down Ethan's mental resilience. The final blow had been the relentless math problems, a torment only a struggling student could truly comprehend. The agony of racking your brain but finding no solution was something Ethan, a self-proclaimed academic failure, was uniquely vulnerable to.
As a transcendent, Ethan's mental resistance was extraordinarily high. It had to be weakened to the absolute limit to ensure the hypnosis would succeed.
This time, Sam was preparing for deep hypnosis, far beyond the surface-level psychological suggestion he'd used before.
Psychological suggestion only worked on a shallow level, leaving the subject's core thoughts intact while subtly guiding their choices or reactions. Deep hypnosis, however, was a more invasive method. It aimed to completely distort the subject's thoughts, akin to how Sam had hypnotized members of the Vipers.
However, deep hypnosis wasn't permanent—it required periodic reinforcement. Perhaps with time and further refinement of his psychic abilities, Sam could achieve something akin to an unbreakable mental imprint.
Thud!
The dungeon door creaked open once more.
Ethan, his eyes already glazed and unfocused, shuddered violently at the sound. Like a conditioned reflex, his face contorted in abject terror.
"No… no! Please, no more math problems! Ugh…"
He gagged, his body doubling over as if on the verge of vomiting.
Sam smiled with approval. "Ethan Reed, it seems you've thoroughly absorbed and digested all those mathematical concepts. You've even overindulged a bit."
He stepped closer, his voice smooth and calm. "Now, it's time for the final phase."
Ethan Reed seemed oblivious to Sam's words, his lips moving involuntarily as he muttered under his breath:"sin, cos, tan, cot… sin, cos, tan, cot…"