Dr. Chu didnât have any intention of keeping his voice down when he said this. Quite a few other trainees about to leave the operating theatre heard him.
He Jianlanâs head snapped back, his eyes swivelling between the young white-haired man and the white-coated doctor.
Not only him. Even Messiah looked over in slight consternation, concern shining in his azure eyes.
No one knew what this dangerous doctor meant when he said âexaminationâ, or why he had suddenly picked Zong Jiu to go first.
But unquestionably, there was no room for Zong Jiu to refuse.
In this mental asylum, the patients had no right to disobey any order given by the medical staff. That unfortunate man who laid on the operating table was the best example.
In a horror instance, the contenders were at the bottom rung of the food chain. Not only did they have to avoid those nameless âgood friendsâ, they also couldnât do anything to harm the NPCs. This wouldnât increase their evaluation; it would, on the contrary, cause them to lose points.
It wasnât like there werenât teams who had attempted to do this before. They depended on their special props and special constitutions to kill off a key NPC in that instance, resulting in the subsequent collapse of the main plot of that instance. Ultimately, every person in that instance received an âFâ from the system evaluation, resulting in a full team wipe out.
This created an unprecedented level of authority for the NPCs, especially in this one-man show in a mental asylum.
Since they had entered the instance, they had to follow the rules of the instance. Those who didnât follow the rules usually wouldnât have a good ending.
âLine up. Come up one by one.â
The doctor waved his hand. The stern nurses pushed everyone in hospital gowns into a line from the operating theatre to the corridor like chicks.
In an instant, there were only two people left in the large operating theatre.
The black snake hanging upside down from the lamp hissed and spat out its forked tongue, its cold obsidian eyes staring unblinkingly at that young white-haired man.
Zong Jiu obediently stayed on the spot, his eyes lifelessly staring at a corner.
He hadnât forgotten the characteristics of the autistic teenager on his identity card. So he now played that role perfectly, working hard not to let any seams show to this NPC that no one wanted to provoke.
In his field of vision, his feet were right on the edge of a black elongated shadow, like standing at the brink of a madly grinning mouth of fate.
The leather shoes came closer.
They strode past the danger zone.
The dark shadow enveloped him completely.
Immediately afterwards, the man slowly and methodically removed his left glove, his cold hand cupping Zong Jiuâs chin and forcibly lifting the young manâs head up.
The doctor in the white coat stood under the only light source in the theatre, an elusive smile on his face.
It was only from a proximity this close that the shocking charisma permeating his body could be felt. His personality was fierce and sharp, thick with dissonance.
The doctor stared into those pale pink eyes and spoke in an awed sigh, his words dragged meaningfully long.
âLook at that. A rare albino autistic.â
Despite being gazed at so openly and directly by him, Zong Jiu didnât make the slightest motion nor show the slightest hint of a reaction.
The young man was forced to tilt his head, and the hair band holding his hair behind his ears came loose, white hair flowing down his shoulders like a ribbon.
His beautiful face that was without the slightest blemish was apathetic and indifferent, his thin lips lightly pursed. He was like a gorgeously framed puppet in a doll shop; beautiful, but lacking a soul.
Perhaps it was this indifference that aroused the manâs interest.
âTzzââ
Without warning, the sharp tip of the scalpel abruptly pierced the blue and white striped gown, cutting down the grain.
Pieces of cloth fluttered lightly to the ground, exposing a large expanse of pale skin to cold air.
The upper half of the young manâs body was without any fat. His waist was slim, and the beautiful lines of his body were taut in the dim light, like fine, unadulterated jade, cutting sharply between light and shadows, exquisite and beautiful.
The trainees behind him swallowed their saliva.
The bullet chat in Zong Jiuâs live broadcast room exploded, and the number of people in the room rose exponentially.
[Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit, this doctor is a modern-day philanthropist!]
[/drools, my eyes are blessed! Blessed!! AâJiu is way too beautiful, Iâve gone to heaven.]
[Sobbing, who can resist the frontal assault of this beauty! Let me ask! Who! Can! Resist! This!]
[Ohmagawd, I sprinted right over from someone elseâs live broadcast room. No need to say anything else, Iâm licking it.]
[Deserving of being called the number one beauty in Thriller Trainee⌠Iâm sold. I canât control my hands anymore, theyâre taking screenshots non-stop.]
Concealed behind gold-rimmed glasses, ink as dark as an abyss flooded the manâs eyes.
âBeautifulâŚâ
The doctor looked upon this scene in awe again from behind his lenses. The shiny scalpel spun and flew back into his pocket, and once again, he pulled out a long ice pick from the box behind him.
This time, it wasnât a surgical ice pick, but a real cone made of ice.
The gooseflesh of the trainees guarded by the doorway raised at this.
They looked at the dip in the young manâs spine facing them. They remembered how Dr. Chu had unhesitantly stabbed the ice pick into the newcomerâs eye sockets; the thought of the treatment to come made them swallow their saliva, their legs growing weak.
Yet, unexpectedly, this ice pick didnât penetrate anyoneâs eye sockets.
It landed on that white, jade-like delicate skin, thawing a drop of icy water.
The doctor was satisfied to see the young manâs beautiful upper body flinch instinctively at this sudden touch.
âLet me do a proper examination.â
The manâs movements kept upâthe cold glistening tip slid like a dragonfly skimming water, wandering like a paintbrush across parchment, smearing on a different colour.
Human temperature was naturally much warmer than the ice pick, which melted and left a glistening string of water drops on his body. Following the texture of his skin, they slid past his waistline.
Under such cold and stinging torture, the young white-haired manâs eyelashes quivered slightly.
The young manâs expression was cold and indifferent. The curve of his slender neck lifted like a dying white swan, fragile and with a fatal beauty, causing the ink in the doctorâs eyes to deepen and turn impenetrable to light.
âWhy donât you talk?â
The hand holding the chin tightened, almost pressing out bruises.
Be that as it may, he still didnât speak, but bore it all in silence.
Zong Jiu felt that he should have won the gold figurine of an Oscar with this acting skill.
In order to complete a few more dangerous challenges and pinch out a little more survival points to heal himself, the price he had to pay was too much. This was practically selling his body. He was blatantly naked; the impact on his image truly wouldnât be good.
Of course, having said that, he was a vengeful person, and he wrote this down in his little grudge book no less than ten times.
Zong Jiu kept his dead fish-eyed expression staring at the operating table, thinking to himself that this quack doctor better pray that he didnât fall into his hands.
Although it was much shorter than those few minutes spent performing the ice pick frontal lobotomy, the passing of time still dragged on.
But perhaps Zong Jiuâs silence finally made the man feel bored.
He followed the young white-haired manâs line of sight and looked back. He smiled meaningfully. âAre you interested in that black iron box?â
âThat box once contained a very interesting trinket. Itâs just a pity that a few decades ago⌠it was stolen by a disgraceful thief, and its whereabouts are unknown.â
The trainees standing at the door roused, excited.
Zong Jiu had his back facing them and was a distance away, so he couldnât quite see what was going on.
But that black iron box was different! It was a clue regarding an S-rank prop! Who wouldnât want to know this?
The heat of everyoneâs eyes glued on the young white-haired manâs back was scorching. They direly wanted to rush up and answer for him.
However, before Zong Jiu made any response, Dr. Chu suddenly released the hand shackling his jaw.
âBut thereâs no doubt about it.â
His voice was low and compelling. âI will retrieve it. From the present, not the past.â
The white-gloved hand lightly tapped the young manâs collarbones.
The man lowered his voice and laughed softly. âDo you want to know more?â
The rubbing of the rough fabric was unpleasant against his skin. With just a little bit of force, the pale skin bloomed with startling red marks, like the stark contrast of plum blossoms fallen onto snow.
They were too close. So close that Zong Jiu could easily smell the disinfectant and rust off the white coat.
As well as a type of condescending, the pity from a superior looking down from high above.
âTen years is never too late for a gentleman to take revenge.â
Zong Jiu silently chanted the idiom in his heart, and the corners of his lips straightened, suppressing the fiery ire in his heart.
He detested people looking at him in this manner.
The doctor played around for a while before abruptly leaning down, closing close to his ear. With a voice that only the two of them could hear, he saidâ
âDo you believe⌠that an integer exists between three and four?â
Pale pink pupils flashed.
After saying this, the doctor put his hands in his pockets and straightened his body again. The cynical, light-hearted smile returned to his face.
âThe examination is complete. Your body is very healthy. Apart from your mental illness, there are no other problems.â
He casually waved his hand. âLetâs do the remaining tomorrow.â
âYes, Dr. Chu.â
The nurses immediately took out a new hospital gown and put it on Zong Jiu. They tugged on the young manâs slender arms and shooed him out of the operating room along with the rest of the trainees.
With such a casual attitude, choosing to conduct examinations as and when he wanted, Zong Jiu highly suspected that the other was gunning straight for him.
However, he really couldnât figure out how he had attracted the otherâs attention; he was clearly as quiet as a mouse after entering this instance.
Zong Jiu glanced at the arm that was grabbed, and, using his line of sight and the people crowding about him, his other hand imperceptibly extended towards the nurse in front of him.
âClangââ
The heavy iron door slammed shut.
In his field of vision, the white-coated doctor removed his glasses and raised his hand to extinguish the lights on the operating table.
The entire room fell into eternal darkness outlined by that white coat. It was inextricably linked, resembling nature itself, as if it was born in this way.
Just as Zong Jiu effortlessly stuffed an object into his pocket, he suddenly looked over towards Zong Jiu. The corners of his lips hooked up.
[This doctor is too exciting!]
[Oh heavens, with this level of danger, he is undoubtedly the boss of this instance.]
[No wonder this instance can have an S-rank prop when none were found in the other venues. Think about it. This venue looks all ordinary, yet it has two S-ranks, No. 3 and No. 7. Following the usual temper of the system, I reckon that this instance can really edge towards the difficulty of an S-rank instanceâŚ]
[Hang on, what upstairs said makes sense. But what I donât understand is, the other venues all donât have any S-rank props, so why this one?]
[Damn, if your guesses are valid, then wouldnât it be⌠lighting incense for the newcomers in this instance /candle.jpg /candle.jpg /candle.jpg]
Zong Jiu was preoccupied by Dr. Chuâs clue about the S-rank prop.
An integer existed between three and four.
Unquestionably, it was totally impractical to explain this sentence with mathematics alone. The existence wouldnât count at all; it would be a pseudo proposition.
But since it came out of the mouth of an important NPC, even if it appeared meaningless, it would become meaningful. Or, in other words, the clue must be establishable in this current instance.
Zong Jiu suspected that this sentence wasnât only about the mysterious S-rank prop, but also closely related to the main plotline of this instance.
A few decades ago coincided with the old newspaper clippings they found in the reading room. At that time, the mental asylum was still a wartime military base, which was also the eccentric starting point of this asylum.
But if the equation holds, then what would the mysterious integer be? What happened a few decades ago? What kind of S-rank prop did that black iron box once hold, and what did it have to do with the main plotline of this instance?
When the nurse let go of his hand and turned away, Zong Jiu still stood there, thinking.
By the time he came back to his senses, he was already surrounded by layer upon layer of trainees.
These traineesâ eyes flashed with greed, and the eyes that looked at him were brimming with suspicion, jealousy, and envy; it was nauseating.
âHey. Weâve been calling you for a long time, why arenât you reacting?â
âWhat did that doctor tell you? Why arenât you answering our questions?â
âAre you planning to keep it to yourself? Itâs obvious that we found the clue together, Iâm telling you, witnesses have a share too!â
Zong Jiu, ââŚâ
He had reason to suspect that that perverted psychiatric doctor did it purposefully.
Even if Zong Jiu was duplicitous and unlikeable, it clearly should have taken a while longer of fermentation before being reduced to this current scene.
And this Dr. Chu just had to appear and disrupt all of Zong Jiuâs plans, making it impossible for him to pilfer off the intelligence theyâd gather in the morning later before leaving this group.
Damn him to hell.
Zong Jiu silently scolded in his head. He lazily arched his brows.
âOh, do I have to tell you? Correct me if Iâm wrong, but shouldnât you be the ones begging me to tell it to you?â
âIs this the way that you beg someone?â
Everyone was stunned.
Their impression of this young white-haired man was that he was beautiful and taciturn. At this moment, seeing that he had gotten a clue about the S-rank prop, they toyed with the idea of bullying to extract the information. Little did they expect that this E-rank would actually be this unyielding, directly voicing his abhorrence. Instantly, the people who had been buzzing noisily all went mute.
And Zhuge An, who was just about to leave, paused in his steps, raising his eyes in interest.
a/n. Let me explain a little, in the eyes of others, MCâs body is equivalent to having albinism.
Albinism is a genetic disease in which the hair and eyes, including eyebrows and eyelashes, are white due to a lack of melanin in the body.
Having albinism is a very painful condition that prevents them from being exposed to bright light, and also affects the eyesight. The set-up in this novel is such that only the external features are preserved, without any of the side effects.
Natsya Zhidkova, a Russian model, is an albino. If youâre interested, you can go to see her prints.
â
I donât mean any disrespect to autistic people here. Because the background of this instance is set in the twentieth century, at that time anyone with a mental illness was sent to a mental asylum for treatment.
In reality, mental illness is very painful. Moreso, autism is incurable. I apologise in advance for any offence I might cause.
â
There exists an integer between three and four.
This phrase originates from a 15-min sci-fi mystery film called âThe Secret Numberâ, which was the inspiration for this instance~
Since itâs only the inspiration, it doesnât matter if you havenât seen it, because this instance only borrows one of the laws of physics from the short film and would be explained in detail in the rest of the story.