"The patients chosen in the annex are all in the detox ward. They can only go out during the day. I’ll take you to find them." The old man now feels extremely insecure and needs other patients to help him share that deep-seated terror.
"You better hurry up." The longer you stay in the Black Building, the more dangerous it becomes. To leave here, you must sacrifice patients, so Han Fei can only rely on the old man as a guide to quickly find some genuine psychopaths, kill them, or sacrifice them.
Smashing open door after door of the compartments, Han Fei discovered that many doors of the wards were inscribed with words—some were curses, others were logical formulas, and some were like diaries; some even had confessions etched on the ward doors.
"The compartments and dormitories of the detox center have no names. The patients hiding here mark their rooms for easy distinction." The old man smashed open several doors but still couldn’t find a patient. He panicked, fearing Han Fei’s patience would run out and he’d end up dead.
When reaching the seventh door, the old man heard whispers inside. With the thought of sacrificing companions before himself, he hurriedly reported to Han Fei: "Someone’s in this room! They’re likely as deranged as you! Be ready!"
"If you can’t speak properly, don’t say much." Han Fei heard noises inside as well, stared at the moss-covered door, and violently kicked it open.
The dirty and messy room was filled with stench. A man in a tattered patient’s gown stood on one leg, his hands, face, and body clinging tightly to the wall.
The door was violently opened, startling the man, who frantically moved his hands on the wall, seemingly preparing to climb up the smooth wall.
"There’s no smell of decay or blood; this person is probably just an ordinary patient." Han Fei looked somewhat disappointed.
"You’ve smelled decay and blood?" the old man murmured softly.
Han Fei didn’t bother explaining to the old man, walked into the room, and pressed his hand on the patient’s shoulder: "What’s your name? I can take you with me."
The man looked at Han Fei in terror, standing on one leg and climbing toward the other side of the wall. He seemed unable to walk normally away from the wall.
"Why do you cling to the wall all the time?" Han Fei grabbed him, ready to start compulsory treatment.
Starlight entered his brain sea, and the man’s soul was blank. His pupils rolled continuously, finally sticking out his tongue at Han Fei: "Don’t kill me, I’m just a gecko."
"Gecko?" The man seemed confused about his own identity.
"Yes, I know I look different from other geckos. That’s because my tail was cut off by the doctor. When I grow it back, you’ll see I wasn’t lying." The man looked at Han Fei seriously, his tone firm.
"Player No. 0000, please note, you have discovered a special patient—Gecko."
Han Fei couldn’t imagine that this was a patient he had healed. It seems the healing-type personality isn’t universal, especially when facing patients who pose no threat and are just simple-minded.
"So, are you willing to leave with me?"
"No, geckos can’t leave the wall."
Han Fei didn’t strike. This patient was far from insane murderer, with ten Shen Luo’s distance between them.
"Sorry to disturb." Han Fei closed the door and glared at the old man: "Is this what you call pathological?"
"Gecko, huh? Isn’t that twisted enough?" The old man quickly led Han Fei to another room’s door, which was filled with written formulas and theories.
Opening the door, the walls of the ward were engraved with various inference and guesses, and the floor was scattered with drafts. A disheveled middle-aged man sat among them.
"Player No. 0000, please note! You have discovered a special patient with a prophetic personality—Prophet."
"Prophetic personality?" Han Fei walked to the middle-aged man’s side, looked down, seeing him sketching various complex diagrams on paper marked with many words Han Fei couldn’t understand: "What are you researching?"
"Proving the existence of ghosts." The middle-aged man didn’t raise his head, wholeheartedly deducing.
"The disaster has already happened; ghosts and monsters are everywhere, what’s there to prove?"
"Why does one plus one equal two? A plus A cannot equal B?" The middle-aged man still didn’t raise his head: "Mathematics is a world constructed by mathematicians, so what’s the construct of this current world?"
"Are you trying to use science to explain ghosts?" Han Fei was starting not to understand. He was merely a butcher who works part-time as a doctor and teacher.
"Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind." The middle-aged man tore up the patterns he drew: "Have you heard of Plato’s allegory of the cave? Most people live forever in ignorant caves, seeing only a bit of projection from outside the cave. What we see daily is mere phenomena; the truth of reality lies in another world. To understand the truth, one’s soul must turn—turn from phenomenon to ideal."
"Uh..." Han Fei glanced at the old man, who was preparing to sneak away, not listening to what the middle-aged man was saying at all.
"We originally lived in darkness. To find home, we lit candles pursuing light, but being more obsessed with the light, we forget our home is in darkness. As a result, we’ve lost ourselves in the light." The middle-aged man was speaking about some basic ideas, citing famous philosopher quotes, but the feeling he gave was a bit mad.
"Then what’s the conclusion you’ve reached?"
"Perhaps we don’t exist, perhaps the ghosts are you and me, perhaps there’s an invisible world hidden here." He lay down on the ground, his pillow made of eerie drawings: "I won’t leave with you, the one who should go is you."
"Then you continue to think about it here." Han Fei gave up on treating the middle-aged man, fearing he might affect the man’s brain: "Is it really this hard to find a few patients for a direct blood sacrifice?"
Leaving the room where the Prophet was, Han Fei scanned all the wards in the detoxification center and one ward caught his attention.
The wooden door was marked with bloody handprints, the viewing glass was shattered, and the center of the door had the name of a vicious dormitory scrawled crookedly—Chang Wei and the Thirteen from the Qi Family.
"Am I finally about to meet a murderer?" Han Fei had the Blood-colored Paperman guard behind him, gripped the coin, and kicked open that ward door.
The door slammed against the wall, severing several wires. It was a single-patient ward, with no bed inside, only a compulsory treatment device filled with restraint belts, resembling a coffin, and a chair meant for electric shocks.
"Rude." The broken electric chair slowly turned, and the person sitting on it appeared abnormal at first glance.
He wore an enormous knitted skull cap and had a calculator hanging from his chest with two flashlights hidden at his waist. All the "electronic devices" the patient could access were hidden on his person.
Perhaps due to frequent electroshock therapy, his head bore many hideous scars, and his body muscles were different from an average person.
"Generally speaking, individuals with strong self-harming and suicidal tendencies; extremely agitated and violent individuals; those who are ineffective with psychotropic treatments or intolerant to medication would require electroshock therapy. Looks like I found the right person this time."
Han Fei put down the Mourning Girl and tossed the coin as he entered the room: "What’s your name? Why are you locked up here?"
An elusive black mist wafted out from the Abyss as Han Fei wore a warm smile of a doctor caring for a patient.
"Me, a top student majoring in calculators from a prestigious university, began my own business in sophomore year, and now I serve as the dormitory leader in the Internet Addiction Detoxification Ward at Xinhu Third Mental Hospital." The Skull Cap patient spoke with an unparalleled arrogance, a kind of unruliness difficult for ordinary people to understand: "Don’t bother with my name; anyone who sees this knitted skull cap in this entire Internet addiction detox center calls me Master Skull."
"You seem a bit special." Han Fei’s smile grew softer as he moved closer, continuing to ask: "Master Skull, have you killed anyone? Those innocent ones, who haven’t done anything wrong, yet purely provide you mental pleasure?"
The elderly man at the door was stunned; no doctor would ask a patient such questions. Just who is sicker among the two inside this room!
"Many." The expression of the Skull Cap patient turned menacing, and his eyes were filled with uncontrollable excitement: "I have to kill every night! Sometimes dozens, sometimes hundreds! I feel uncomfortable if I don’t kill!"
He became more and more excited; the black veins stood out on his forehead. He took off the cap atop his head, revealing a head full of horrific scars left by electric shocks.
"Hundreds?" Han Fei indeed felt a murderous intent on the Skull Cap patient, but honestly, it was undetectable without careful feeling.
"How about you?" The original appearance of the Skull Cap patient was rather delicate, but after receiving treatment here, he became somewhat frightening: "How many have you killed?"
"At most a dozen or so?" Han Fei had already walked up to the Skull Cap, extending his own hand.
After hearing Han Fei’s answer, instead of being frightened, the Skull Cap’s eyes became even more excited: "Good! Then you should join me in the future! No, I can’t hold it anymore now!"
He tore off the calculator hanging on his chest: "Let me show you my true hero, watch my ’Shangguan Wan’er.’
Before he finished speaking, he leaped onto the Compulsory Detoxification Device, resembling a coffin, and began furiously pressing buttons, with the calculator emitting continuous zeroing sounds.
Considering this is the Internet Addiction Detoxification Center, Han Fei slightly frowned: "Are the hundreds you talked about killed in the game?"
The Skull Cap showed no reaction, but his words scared the elderly man at the door terribly, who trembled and asked: "Do you mean something other than a game?"
"I also killed in the game." Han Fei smiled back at the elderly man, then tossed the coin, placing his hand on the Skull Cap’s head.
"Player number 0000, take notice! You have discovered a chaotic personality patient—the Sacrificial Offering chosen by the Director."
"Chaotic Personality: Disordered, imbalanced, a rare personality favored by Ghosts and Monsters."
The starlight of humanity shone into the brain sea, Han Fei found that the negative emotions in the Skull Cap’s heart were minimal; he originally seemed to lean towards the ghost’s side.
"Player number 0000, take notice! You have healed five personality defect patients, completing the Shrine Random Task—Healing-type Personality. You have gained a large experience reward; your Healing-type Personality is enhanced, granting you an opportunity to open the Item Bar."
"Player number 0000, take notice! You have triggered a hidden shrine task—The Reason for Existence to Heal."
"Task Requirement: Heal a hundred patients with personality defects. After completing this task, you will receive the hidden reward of the shrine, with a chance to help you bring out the souls and ghosts healed within the shrine."
The system prompts greatly aided Han Fei, who had been searching for suitable Sacrificial Offerings. Now the offering chosen by the Director was "laid" before him.
"Time is running short; let me borrow your bones and blood for now. I promise to treat you well in the future." Han Fei used the newly acquired chance to open the Item Bar and took out the Rebirth Slaughter Saber: "Mourning Girl, what should I do next?"
The hoarse voice of the female nurse resounded in Han Fei’s mind: "Use the Sacrificial Offering’s blood to lead the way, and run in the direction the blood mist spreads!"
"Okay." Han Fei focused on the blood vessels of the Skull Cap man, raised the knife, and brought it down.