Jared didn't wait long before testing again.
That was his mistake.
"…I don't like that look," Iris said.
"…experiment."
"…NO."
Too late.
Jared had already made a small cut on his finger using a blade.
Not deep.
Not dangerous.
Just enough to draw blood.
"…JARED!"
"…controlled variable," he said calmly.
"…YOU ARE NOT A LAB EXPERIMENT."
"…temporarily, I am."
He watched closely.
Analyzing.
Waiting.
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
No clarity.
No improvement.
No change.
"…result: negative," Jared said.
"…GOOD."
"…insufficient volume."
"…NO."
He examined the cut more closely.
Blood loss minimal.
No cognitive enhancement detected.
Conclusion: threshold requirement exists.
"…so it only works with larger amounts," he muttered.
"…STOP LEARNING THE WRONG LESSON."
Jared ignored that.
Because the data was clear.
There was a minimum requirement.
Which meant—
There was also a maximum.
"…risk factor increasing," he said.
"…YOU THINK?!"
Iris grabbed his hand and wrapped it properly.
"…you're going to hurt yourself."
"…acceptable risk."
"…NOT ACCEPTABLE."
Jared didn't argue.
But internally—
He adjusted his calculations.
This wasn't a simple ability.
It was a system.
And systems—
Always had limits.