A good and proper examination

Dr. Chu didn't 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 Jianlan's 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 'examination', 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 'good friends', they also couldn't do anything to harm the NPCs. This wouldn't increase their evaluation; it would, on the contrary, cause them to lose points.

It wasn't like there weren't 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 'F' 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 didn't follow the rules usually wouldn't have a good ending.

"Line up. Come up one by one."

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 hadn't 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 Jiu's chin and forcibly lifting the young man's 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.

"Look at that. A rare albino autistic."

Despite being gazed at so openly and directly by him, Zong Jiu didn't 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 man's interest.

"Tzz—"

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 man's 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 Jiu's 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!! A'Jiu is way too beautiful, I've 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 else's live broadcast room. No need to say anything else, I'm licking it.]

[Deserving of being called the number one beauty in Thriller Trainee… I'm sold. I can't control my hands anymore, they're taking screenshots non-stop.]

Concealed behind gold-rimmed glasses, ink as dark as an abyss flooded the man's eyes.

"Beautiful…"

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 wasn't 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 man's spine facing them. They remembered how Dr.

Chu had unhesitantly stabbed the ice pick into the newcomer's eye sockets; the thought of the treatment to come made them swallow their saliva, their legs growing weak.

Yet, unexpectedly, this ice pick didn't penetrate anyone's 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 man's beautiful upper body flinch instinctively at this sudden touch.

"Let me do a proper examination."

The man's movements kept up—the 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 man's eyelashes quivered slightly.

The young man's 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 doctor's eyes to deepen and turn impenetrable to light.

"Why don't you talk?"

The hand holding the chin tightened, almost pressing out bruises.

Be that as it may, he still didn't 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 wouldn't 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 didn't 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 Jiu's silence finally made the man feel bored.

He followed the young white-haired man's line of sight and looked back. He smiled meaningfully. "Are you interested in that black iron box?"

"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, and its whereabouts are unknown."

The trainees standing at the door roused, excited.

Zong Jiu had his back facing them and was a distance away, so he couldn't quite see what was going on.

But that black iron box was different! It was a clue regarding an S-rank prop! Who wouldn't want to know this?

The heat of everyone's eyes glued on the young white-haired man's 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.

"But there's no doubt about it."

His voice was low and compelling. "I will retrieve it. From the present, not the past."

The white-gloved hand lightly tapped the young man's collarbones.

The man lowered his voice and laughed softly. "Do you want to know more?"

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.

'Ten years is never too late for a gentleman to take revenge.'

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 said—

"Do you believe… that an integer exists between three and four?"

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.

"The examination is complete. Your body is very healthy. Apart from your mental illness, there are no other problems."

He casually waved his hand. "Let's do the remaining tomorrow."

"Yes, Dr. Chu."

The nurses immediately took out a new hospital gown and put it on Zong Jiu. They tugged on the young man's 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 couldn't figure out how he had attracted the other's 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.

"Clang—"

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 instance…]

[Hang on, what upstairs said makes sense. But what I don't understand is, the other venues all don't have any S-rank props, so why this one?]

[Damn, if your guesses are valid, then wouldn't it be… lighting incense for the newcomers in this instance /candle.jpg /candle.jpg /candle.jpg]

Zong Jiu was preoccupied by Dr. Chu's 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 wouldn't 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 wasn't 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 trainees' eyes flashed with greed, and the eyes that looked at him were brimming with suspicion, jealousy, and envy; it was nauseating.

"Hey. We've been calling you for a long time, why aren't you reacting?"

"What did that doctor tell you? Why aren't you answering our questions?"

"Are you planning to keep it to yourself? It's obvious that we found the clue together, I'm telling you, witnesses have a share too!"

Zong Jiu, "…"

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 Jiu's plans, making it impossible for him to pilfer off the intelligence they'd 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.

"Oh, do I have to tell you? Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't you be the ones begging me to tell it to you?"

"Is this the way that you beg someone?"

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.