When Zong Jiu finally regained consciousness, the dizziness and weakness in his limbs felt almost exactly like they had when he first entered the instance.
Clearly, he had been drugged.
He did not open his eyes. Instead, he kept his breathing steady and listened silently to the movements around him.
To put it plainly, Zong Jiu’s current situation was not good.
He could feel wide straps binding him to a narrow chair, restraining his entire body.
More importantly, a towel soaked in disinfectant had been stuffed into his mouth. That meant he could not speak, much less recite the key that would allow him to clear the instance instantly.
In other words, he was like a fried egg stuck to the pan, unable to flip over no matter what. Even if wealth and glory were right in front of him, he could only watch helplessly, unable to move.
Zong Jiu: “…”
Fuck. He had really screwed up this time.
[Awuwuwu, the broadcast finally reconnected! A’Jiu, don’t cry, Mama is here!]
[Damn, isn’t it a little inappropriate to get excited the moment it reconnects?]
[I just checked a few other live broadcast rooms from this instance. They all seemed to have lost connection too. Scared me to death. Luckily, Jiu-gege’s stream is back. Phew.]
[Honestly, though… his luck is pretty good. If this perverted doctor hadn’t carried him out of Basement 2 like it was nothing, this white-haired beauty would probably have ended up like He Jianlan and the others.]
“Awake?”
Just as Zong Jiu was secretly calculating his next move, a low voice sounded quietly in the empty room.
Since he had already been discovered, Zong Jiu did not bother pretending anymore.
He already held the hidden trump card that could pave his way to victory. The only problem now was that he had to deal with this doctor, whose face practically had “I’m Very Happy” written all over it.
As long as the other man removed the towel from his mouth, even for a single second, Zong Jiu could turn defeat into victory.
Having made up his mind, the white-haired young man slowly opened his eyes and warily surveyed his surroundings.
The operating theatre was very dim. The only source of light came from the lamp shining down over the operating table.
But for Zong Jiu, there was another source of light.
A black iron box sat on the operating table, radiating a brilliant golden halo. The light softly dappled its surroundings, scattering into long, narrow grains.
Zong Jiu’s eyes flashed.
The last time he had been in this operating theatre, he had received an invaluable piece of information.
“That box once contained a very interesting trinket. It’s just a pity that, a few decades ago… it was stolen by a disgraceful thief…”
According to Zhuge An’s conjecture, the alternate dimensional space existed exactly thirty years before the current timeline of the mental asylum. When the clock struck twelve on the third day, all trainees in the mental asylum would be dragged into that alternate dimension. That meant Zong Jiu was not only inside it, but had also happened to travel thirty years into the past.
Thirty years ago, this S-rank prop had not yet been stolen. Instead, it was sitting right here, almost within Zong Jiu’s reach.
Although he was determined to obtain it, Zong Jiu revealed none of that on his face. After that brief glance, he hid even the most violent storms in his heart.
The doctor in the white coat was standing very close to his left. It was unclear whether he had noticed Zong Jiu’s slight movement, but the interest in the man’s eyes deepened. He looked down at Zong Jiu, the corners of his lips always carrying that elusive smile.
Zong Jiu did not know whether it was because he was in the alternate dimension, but the equipment in this operating theatre looked much older than it had thirty years in the future. Even the electric chair he was sitting in was an antique from the previous century, with rusty electrode pads protruding from the ends of its wires.
[Source text corrupted here by anti-copy protection; omitted rather than reconstructed.]
Seeing that Zong Jiu’s eyes were open, the doctor actually, maliciously, dragged the tip of the scalpel downward, smiling faintly as the white-haired young man shivered.
“I’ve warned you. Disobedient patients who are caught violating the rules will be punished.”
For a split second, Zong Jiu felt like a fish held down on a chopping board, allowing the other man to cut into his skin with a blade as he pleased, hypocritically nitpicking over it and pronouncing judgment.
This was the first time in Zong Jiu’s life that he had endured such humiliation.
“Mmf… mmf…”
He tried to make sounds through his throat, using his vocal cords to attract Dr. Chu’s interest.
All he needed to do was stall for time and find a way to get the towel removed. After that, he could turn the tide.
But what he never expected was that, in the next second, without any warning, the power would suddenly be switched on.
Tiny, tingling currents of electricity surged wildly through the long wires. They were like millions of needles, probing into Zong Jiu’s naked body.
Fuck. This unreasonable madman.
Dr. Chu had not set the voltage high enough to kill. He had skillfully controlled it at a level that would cause unbearable pain without making the victim pass out. It remained within the range an ordinary person could still survive.
After doing all of that, he stood calmly to one side, arms crossed, admiring the scene. His gaze was like that of a venomous viper, coiled back and ready to strike.
The instant the electricity connected, the young man’s brows furrowed, and his entire body arched instinctively under the concentrated jolts of current.
Before long, large beads of sweat seeped from beneath his long hair. They slid downward and clung to his beautiful, flawless waist like a layer of glimmering beeswax. The sight was almost dazzling.
Under the faint burning sensation of the electric stimulation, his entire body shone heavily with sweat.
The sharp pain made a tingling, rippling flush slowly spread from the blue veins beneath the layer of sweat. In mere moments, Zong Jiu looked as though he had been dredged out of boiling water, cooked from head to toe.
“Once the sterilization is complete, we can begin the surgery. I promise, you will be my proudest masterpiece.”
The man took pleasure in his reaction. The scalpel flew and spun above the flame, performing a bloody dance of art and grace between his ten slender fingers.
Perhaps one of the wires had short-circuited. A tiny spark was practically about to leap out from one of the electrode pads.
At that very moment, the person in the electric chair suddenly slumped forward.
Because his entire body was bound by restraining straps, when the young man passed out from the current, only his head drooped downward. Strands of long white hair, drenched in sweat, hung over his forehead. His body was surrounded by a dense cloud of hot steam. He looked utterly miserable.
A steady stream of crystalline sweat still rolled down from the center of his forehead, tracing the bridge of his nose to the tip before falling drop by drop, leaving dark marks on the floor.
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
Cream-colored rubber gloves slowly pushed upward along the young man’s jawline.
Even with a layer of rubber separating their skin, the coldness of the man’s fingers seemed able to pierce straight into the marrow of his bones.
Somewhere far away, a clock stopped exactly on the hour.
The previous time Dr. Chu had appeared, it had also been exactly on the hour. Inspiration instantly struck Zong Jiu like sparks from flint.
“Is this as far as you can go?”
The doctor sighed, his face filled with disinterest as he lifted the white hair falling beside the young man’s temple. The tip of the blade hovered above Zong Jiu’s eyelid.
“What a shame.”
Just before the tip of the blade could pierce down, the young man’s lowered head suddenly jerked up.
Quick as lightning, he used the short distance between them to slam himself toward the sharp, gleaming scalpel.
It was undoubtedly suicidal behavior.
Everything happened like a sudden crack of thunder.
By the time the doctor unconsciously tilted the scalpel’s handle aside, Zong Jiu had already managed to hook the towel in his mouth around the tip of the blade. The corners of his mouth pulled into a wide grin.
Rip—
Once the towel was caught on the tip, the next movement slashed the blade toward his cheek.
Under the electric stimulation, the flushed, white-haired young man raised his head.
A paper-thin cut slowly oozed a sticky line of blood along the side of his cheek, beautifully complementing the pale color of his skin.
The saliva-soaked towel slid free under the force of the scalpel and rolled onto the dusty floor.
Zong Jiu met the gaze of the white-coated doctor and, with a provocative smile, recited the key.
Less than a moment later, the surroundings shook and changed.
Large patches of peeling walls and surgical tools so worn they seemed glazed over all disappeared, replaced by pale walls and a display case with dirty, dark-brown glass. In the hollow eye sockets, a slender black snake bared its fangs, its body slithering lithely through the crevices between various body parts soaked in glass jars.
He had returned from the alternate dimensional space of thirty years ago.
Zong Jiu lay on the powerless electric chair, his chest heaving violently as he gasped for air.
If the key to solving the puzzle was related to the plotline of the instance, then the key would be oclock, without the extra k.
Using that as the key to decrypt pnpso through the Vigenère cipher would produce the plaintext bleem. Therefore, “bleem” was the key that allowed travel between the dimensional spaces.
However, that was only a hypothesis.
Zong Jiu had only one chance. If he guessed wrong, he would die on the electric chair and would not have another opportunity to recite any other key. From the very beginning, this had been an extremely risky move.
But he had chosen to gamble.
Now that everyone in the mental asylum had been dragged into the alternate dimension, the normal dimension was empty and safe.
In the silence, the white-haired young man lowered his head and waited for sensation to gradually return to his limbs.
When he recited the key just now, Zong Jiu could have chosen to land after the three days specified by the system and become the second person to clear the instance after Zhuge An.
But Zong Jiu did not.
Not only had he chosen not to, he had chosen to move thirty years further back in time.
If he had to give a reason… then of course it was because he could not swallow this insult. ^_^
A man who did not avenge an injustice was no gentleman. A man who did not settle a grudge was no man at all. He had been bullied black and blue. How could his masculine pride possibly endure that?
A few minutes later, Zong Jiu shakily stood up from the electric chair.
Under the hissing gaze of the black snake, he dragged his body, still numb from the electric stimulation, and limped around the operating theatre.
Soon, Zong Jiu found what he was looking for in a corner cluttered with miscellaneous items.
The white-haired young man bent down with difficulty and picked up the heavy hammer from the floor. He weighed it in his hand. Feeling strength slowly return to his wrists, he smiled.
With a cold expression, Zong Jiu walked to the side of the operating table and recited the key again.
Less than a second later, the light instantly dimmed once more.
The walls peeled. Rust flew through the air. The transformation between dimensional spaces unfolded effortlessly before the master who possessed the space-time key.
Even the heavens were favoring Zong Jiu. The white-coated figure was standing beside the electric chair with his back to him, head lowered as if sorting through something in the medical supply box.
The dimly lit operating theatre was so quiet that even Dr. Chu could not have expected someone to appear out of thin air behind him.
Zong Jiu smiled darkly.
Before the man could react, he raised the hammer high into the air.
Thonk—
Behold, a hammer!
The hands gripping the hammer slammed down.
A good man had rid the world of a scourge. Nice!
One hammer blow was enough. Even if this doctor was not dead, he would certainly be crippled.
[HAHAHAHAHAH]
[Damn, no mercy. The back of my head suddenly hurts.]
[Ahahahahah, sorry, I can’t stop laughing!!!!]
Before reciting the key for the third time, Zong Jiu stomped on the bridge of the gold-rimmed glasses. Then he reached out and took the black iron box radiating the golden halo from the table.
Everything in the background melted away like honey dissolving in water, swiftly flitting across his field of vision. At last, it turned into a blurred, vibrant block of color and dissipated.
A mechanical system prompt rang out.
[Congratulations to Trainee Zong Jiu for obtaining S-rank prop x1.]
[E-rank Thriller Trainee Zong Jiu has cleared the instance.]
In a distant darkness elsewhere, a man sitting in a high-backed chair abruptly opened his eyes.
Transparent puppet strings danced and spun around his slender fingers, extending from where they had pierced through the dimensional void. Then they slowly began to withdraw.
[NPC roleplaying task has failed.]
[Venue: one-man show instance in a Mental Asylum, A-rank.]
[Roleplay: a psychopathic psychiatrist with a strange collection fetish.]
[Reason for failure: character incapacitated.]
“Instead of choosing to leave the instance directly, you rested just so you could come back again.”
In the deathly silence, the man suddenly chuckled.
“Interesting.”