Chapter 299: Confrontation of Personalities
"Are you still looking for the instance entrance?" Xu Huo asked.
"Of course I am," Sima Xiao'er said. "The hospital is only this big, so we'll find it sooner or later. There's no danger before the instance starts anyway."
Xu Huo reminded him, "At least find it before the end of the month. Some players haven't completed this month's instance yet. If they're stuck here, they'll be sent to high-difficulty random instances later."
Sima Xiao'er nodded repeatedly. "I'll go tell them right now!"
With that, he hurried off in a flurry.
Xu Huo watched his figure disappear through the building entrance before withdrawing his gaze. He looked up at the steel letters reading "Seventeenth Hospital" on the rooftop, squinting slightly. After a moment, the letters gradually became blurry and transparent, soon disappearing completely.
The building itself hadn't changed at all.
He raised an eyebrow, then turned back into the building. Along the way, he kept seeing doctors leading different people inside. Some patients started crying before they could even speak when they saw visitors, while others begged their families to let them be discharged, promising they wouldn't relapse.
"Xu Huo!" Yu Qingqing walked over with a beaming smile. "Your parents and your brother are coming to see you tonight."
Xu Huo abruptly stopped in his tracks, his expression turning icy as he looked at her.
Yu Qingqing was startled and immediately put her hands behind her back to signal the other nurses.
Several male nurses on the same floor noticed her gesture and began moving toward them.
Xu Huo relaxed his expression. "Everyone else gets daytime visits. Why am I at night?"
"So that's what you're worried about," Yu Qingqing sighed in relief. "Your brother just got back from abroad and seems pretty busy. He could only squeeze in time tonight."
Xu Huo was clear-headed. He knew Xu Zhi was already dead. Even if he saw Xu Zhi in the hospital, it was merely an illusion.
This hospital might not necessarily be the instance location, but it could undoubtedly affect a person's mental state.
The "real world" he saw after escaping, the "family members" who forcibly brought him to the hospital for treatment, the "relatives" who came to visit—all of it was part of dismantling his own mental world.
When the most certain, deeply ingrained beliefs were overturned, anyone would start doubting themselves. Everyone who came in was more or less affected. The worse a person's condition, the more complete this mental hospital seemed to become.
"Xu Huo?" Yu Qingqing waved her hand in front of his eyes.
"I want to change my clothes," Xu Huo said, heading toward his own ward. Once inside, he opened his wardrobe, which was stocked with a full set of new clothes and shoes.
After changing out of his hospital gown, he went to the visiting room.
By then, it was already dark.
Father Xu and Ms. Fang were leaning against each other. Their eyes reddened when they saw him. Xu Zhi stood to the side, looking more mature and somewhat more weathered than Xu Huo remembered.
"You didn't shave," Xu Huo pointed at Xu Zhi's chin.
Xu Zhi smiled. "I've been so busy lately I haven't had time to tidy up. You, on the other hand, look pretty well put together. Not bad."
They all sat down. Ms. Fang first asked how he was doing in the hospital—whether he was in good spirits, if he had enough food and supplies—and then pulled out a large bag of clothes she had prepared in advance.
Xu Huo took the bag and turned to Xu Zhi. "I heard you went abroad. What kind of work are you doing now?"
"Nothing serious, just giving lectures here and there," Xu Zhi looked tired. "I still want to open my own research institute. Working for someone else means taking orders—neither free nor comfortable."
"Running your own place sounds good. Do you need money?" Xu Huo asked.
Xu Zhi chuckled. "If I needed money, would I come to you?"
"Don't worry, I'm not short on cash, and neither is the family. Mom, Dad, and I are doing fine. We just miss you sometimes. Stay here and take care of yourself. In a while, I'll come to pick you up, and we'll all go on a road trip together."
Xu Huo reached out his hand toward him.
"What's this for?" Xu Zhi looked at him strangely.
"Do you have the keys?" Xu Huo asked.
Xu Huo's expression slowly changed. The gentle smile faded, replaced by a cold hardness tinged with sadness. He asked, "Can't you just live a normal life? Mom and Dad are both waiting for you to come home."
"Whether family is together or apart, they're still family. That doesn't change just because I'm normal or not," Xu Huo withdrew his hand. "All these years, I've been replaying the moment you were shot. You left without a single word. Mom was depressed for two years, divorced Dad, and went abroad. Dad started a new family. It looks like we're all moving forward, but that chapter can never be turned."
"Now there's a chance to turn that page."
Xu Zhi was crying. Slowly, he took a key from his bag and placed it on the table. "Xu Huo, don't forget me."
"I won't," Xu Huo picked up the key. The door appeared before him again. He stepped back onto the spiral staircase and began running downward, faster and faster.
Soon, the first person appeared, then the second, then the third.
These three followed behind him, but none caught up. One by one, they vanished. After a while, the process repeated itself.
This went on for a full twenty-four hours before he reached the bottom of the tower. This time, the round tower wasn't as bright as before. In the dimness, the black thin sheet on the round table had grown larger. The playing cards, the bloodstained dagger, and the white-shelled book all seemed dull.
Xu Huo walked over and sat down, placing his hands on the table. The white-shelled book lit up first.
A few minutes later, the black thin sheet shrank. At the same time, the tower began to brighten. The light became blinding for a moment, and he instinctively closed his eyes. But when he opened them again, three extra chairs had appeared around the round table. On the chairs sat three shadows shaped like mannequins—featureless black silhouettes with no facial contours. They all turned their heads to look at him.
Xu Huo didn't speak. Instead, he tried to open the book in front of him, but it wouldn't open.
After half an hour of stalemate, one of the figures raised its playing card and asked him, "Guess what suit this is?"
The voice was identical to his own, but the pitch was slightly higher, the tone mocking.
"Hearts," Xu Huo answered.
The playing card was placed back on the table, this time face up. It was an "Ace of Hearts," but the suit visibly melted away.
Xu Huo frowned. The figure behind the playing card disappeared.
The second figure picked up the dagger. Its voice was flat, devoid of emotion: "Whose blood?"
"Xu Zhi's."
The figure stabbed the dagger into its own chest, then vanished as well.
Only the third figure and the black thin sheet in front of it remained.
The third figure didn't ask a question. Instead, it tapped the black thin sheet. The thing that had been lying on the table like paper suddenly turned into a shadow and rapidly expanded, engulfing everything—the round tower, the spiral staircase—leaving only Xu Huo and the white-shelled book before him.
Xu Huo couldn't see himself. He could only see the book in front of him, so he reached out and picked it up.