Chapter 176 Frank Hospital
The turtleguy’s fervent display of adoration left Wen Shi’s lips twitching. It had been transported to the true spirit’s domain, yet its unwavering determination to hitch a ride on good fortune refused to wane. This tenacious spirit was truly remarkable.
Knock knock.
Before Song Yan could elaborate the previous situation, someone suddenly knocked on the door. It was Seventh Commandment Guild Leader.
Maybe the next moment, a deadly piano tune would play. Seventh Commandment Guild Leader skipped the formalities and got straight to the point, “Killing the Director is a serious matter. Do you want to work together?”
Wen Shi wasn’t surprised that the other party would come. The best plan now was to split into two groups: one group of players would destroy the piano, and the other would try to stop the transplant surgery.
However, Seventh Commandment Guild Leader, filled with hidden motives, was like a ticking bomb.
Ji Yuanzhi suddenly said, “I’ll go with them to check out the Director’s Office first. See if there are any other clues.”
Both tasks were very important, and it was hard to feel at ease entrusting them entirely to others. Ji Yuanzhi was somewhat concerned about the musical notes painted on the exterior wall of the director’s office. Last night, because Li Nan acquired the key, the first thing everyone did was explore the interior of the office.
Wen Shi raised an eyebrow. Indeed, it would be better if someone kept an eye on Seventh Commandment Guild Leader. They didn’t have enough people to simultaneously visit the director’s office and the deep zones.
“Let’s go,” Li Nan spoke after Ji Yuanzhi and Seventh Commandment Guild Leader had left. “Let’s see what’s in this so-called Fairy Tale Zone.”
The humidity in the stairwell was heavier on rainy days. As they went upstairs, everyone paid extra attention to their surroundings. The director was currently in the deep zones, so they needed to avoid running into him.
The Fairy Tale Zone wasn’t far from the Intellectual Disability Zone, indirectly confirming that A’Ao had set up this area for personal use. Compared to other deep zones, only the Intellectual Disability Zone was easy to control and wouldn’t pose a threat to this newly established area.
The chaos caused by the alarm had only recently subsided. Perhaps due to the awakening of the underworld patients, the corridor was filled with an unprecedented sense of oppression. The absence of wandering dangerous patients didn’t bring much relief.
The Fairy Tale Zone was close ahead but not very conspicuous. It resembled a world of ice and snow, with low temperature. It was covered in a bright white mist, confusing visual perception.
Before officially entering the area, Wen Shi suddenly whispered a few words to Yu Xingzhou in a low voice. Song Yan was actively observing the surroundings, faintly catching a few words. Just as he was about to listen carefully, everyone had already entered the Fairy Tale Zone.
“The Green Fairy Tale Zone is the safest Fairy Tale Zone,” Song Yan squinted his eyes and unconsciously read the words on the nearby wall.
There weren’t many wards, and only at intervals could they see a door so white it almost blended into the walls.
“The Red Fairy Tale Zone is the most dangerous Fairy Tale Zone.” Song Yan looked puzzled. “But everything here looks white.”
White was always a representative color in hospitals.
Not long after, Song Yan came across another introduction about the Green Fairy Tale Zone, followed by the Red one. Alternating between them, Song Yan realized they had been going in circles. “Are we hitting a Ghost Wall?”
He first looked at Wen Shi. Even with the presence of two big shots, he still felt that Wen Shi was the backbone.
“Hmm… it’s fine. We’re in the Fairy Tale Zone now… Don’t worry about me. You explore the fifth floor first.”
It was Jian Qingrong on the phone, and surprisingly, Wen Shi answered.
Ghost faces appeared on the originally white walls. Song Yan quickly reminded again, “We’re hitting a Ghost Wall.”
Their gazes met. Wen Shi waved his hand, indicating not to worry.
Jian Qingrong was asking about the quest, so Wen Shi briefly mentioned a few things before shifting the conversation to the Fairy Tale Zone.
Jian Qingrong told him that, based on the mini octopus’ memory feedback, there weren’t many patients in the Fairy Tale Zone, and it was usually deserted. The mini octopus once briefly wandered inside but couldn’t find a telephone receiver, so it ventured into the neighboring northern deep zone.
Song Yan looked at Yu Xingzhou and Li Nan again, but these two showed little reaction.
“It’s a Ghost Wall! Why isn’t anyone paying attention?”
……
On the other side, the Director’s office.
Ji Yuanzhi and Seventh Commandment Guild Leader, along with the players, were examining the musical notes on the wall.
One player looked bewildered. “Can there really be information on this?”
Seventh Commandment Guild Leader nodded. “Musical notes are the most direct element related to the cursed composition.”
Ji Yuanzhi, possessing a deep understanding of musical theory, was using his omniscient skill to interpret the notes while studying them.
In an unnoticed corner, a shadow cast down from above, blending perfectly with the tails of the musical notes.
Before long, a soft melody began to play.
The tune was too familiar. Some players unconsciously began humming along in their minds, “Sleep, sleep, my dear baby—”
With each word sung, drowsiness swept over their minds.
In the most inconspicuous spot on the beam, there was a strange puppet doll. It didn’t make any aggressive moves but manipulated certain musical notes on the wall with invisible strings, playing a lullaby that made people feel overwhelmingly sleepy.
Sleep.
As long as they fall asleep, they would be locked inside the Fairy Tale Zone. Players without skills suitable for the Fairy Tale Zone would sleep forever. If one could steal keys or World Shards from the sleeping players, there would be a chance to escape from here.
The doll’s face displayed a disturbingly realistic human expression, making it even creepier.
It was the puppet that Tu Bianxi had carried with him for years.
After their failure in the team battle and being deceived into boarding the bus, all of Tu Bianxi’s teammates had died on the bus. While he was battling monsters, the game suddenly displayed a message: “How old are you, still playing with dolls?”
The mechanical voice reminded Tu Bianxi of a similar taunt from Pei Wenwei. His rising anger was suppressed by the next sentence:
“You have been diagnosed with Peter Pan Syndrome.”
“It’s not a recognized mental illness, just a term from psychology that used to be popular. Luckily, a hospital full of outdated terminology acknowledges this condition.”
After that, Tu Bianxi was sent to Frank Hospital.
Because it was a newly established zone, there were few and not very strong patients in the Fairy Tale Zone. The Director was generous with the area he had personally created, treating these patients as watchdogs and allowing them to borrow some power from the musical notes.
A small part of Tu Bianxi’s consciousness now resided in the puppet doll, while his Tu Bianxi himself was in a ward, using the Ghost Wall to trap Wen Shi and the others. Even if they broke through the Ghost Wall, it wouldn’t matter as long as they could be delayed until the Fairy Tale Zone turned red, spelling certain death for Pei Wenwei and the others.
The enemy was out in the open, while he remained in the shadows, holding the advantage of being the first mover.
The lullaby continued to play.
“Tu Bianxi, are you out of your mind?” Suddenly, Seventh Commandment Guild Leader spoke up.
The puppet doll froze in place.
After several seconds, the eye with faint white specks moved slightly. It couldn’t be. There was no way anyone could know he was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes.
As if understanding what the other was thinking, Seventh Commandment Guild Leader frowned. “Are you an idiot? Your records are in the archives room.”
Both he and Pei Wenwei had looked through those records.
On the night they entered the instance, some players were locked in the deep zones as patients. While they didn’t know what Tu Bianxi had gone through, they were no longer surprised by such things.
Ignoring the puppet’s theatrics, Ji Yuanzhi entered the director’s office and began searching the bookshelf. Before long, he pulled out a book on music and found a piano sheet excerpt matching the one on the outside wall.
The song’s title was “Office.”
Throughout the entire hospital, aside from the director’s office, only Pei Wenwei had a personal office.
Was it really the darkest under the light? [T/N: idiom meaning the most obvious place is often overlooked]
The mechanism of this instance seemed to enjoy playing tricks on perception and vision. A small office couldn’t possibly hide a piano unless there was a hidden room.
Seventh Commandment Guild Leader, standing nearby, secretly assessed Ji Yuanzhi’s skills. Finding the corresponding sheet music wouldn’t be difficult, but it was quite a laborious task. Surprisingly, Ji Yuanzhi could instantly retrieve the information.
What was most puzzling was that the other party didn’t seem to mind using this skill in public.
This unexplained nonchalance sent shivers down his spine.
“I’ll go check the office for the piano,” Ji Yuanzhi interrupted Seventh Commandment Guild Leader’s thoughts. With a glance at the beam, he signaled that the task of cleaning up the mess was up to the latter.
Seventh Commandment Guild Leader looked at the dark corner on the beam, preparing to toss it into the more dangerous deep zone.
•
Tu Bianxi had no idea that his puppet was about to be thrown into a dangerous zone. The Director’s Office was in a separate hidden map, so he couldn’t use a bit of his consciousness to sense the puppet’s status.
With a significant improvement in strength, Tu Bianxi’s Ghost Wall skill had improved. He was hiding in his ward, remotely controlling everything and believeing he was concealing himself well. Five minutes later, the Ghost Wall was forcibly broken, but Tu Bianxi remained calm, counting the time.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor, but they didn’t continue forward. Instead, they stopped at the door.
Tu Bianxi felt oddly nervous and instinctively used a disguise item.
The Fairy Tale Zone had few patients, all in single ward, so a fellow patient visit was unlikely. Given that the Ghost Wall had just been broken, it was evident who was coming.
“They probably won’t come in…” From any perspective, recklessly barging into a ward was a dangerous move.
However, he still felt uneasy and got out of bed to lock the door.
Almost simultaneously, there was a constant sound of someone trying the door handle from outside.
“These lunatics,” Tu Bianxi muttered under his breath, grateful for locking the door quickly. He hadn’t heard them mention going to other wards earlier.
Bang!
The door shook heavily as the person outside chose to forcibly break in.
The ward’s door was kicked open. Wen Shi’s and Tu Bianxi’s eyes met directly.
In his disguised state, Tu Bianxi quickly calmed down, wanting to see what this person had in mind.
Right at that moment, Song Yan poked his head out from behind, pointing at his nose and saying, “This face is fake.”
No one could see through falsehood and reality better than a mirror.
Even through the disguise item, Tu Bianxi could sense his expression change.
Wen Shi walked in briskly, without any preamble, his expression as excited and enthusiastic as when he first saw Patient 233. “Meeting an old friend in a foreign land is wonderful. Xiao Tu, I could recognize you even if you turned into ashes.”
While speaking, he efficiently ordered a lie detector item from the in-game store. “Time is limited. We won’t catch up today. Tell us quickly what you know.”
“……” Those words left Tu Bianxi thoroughly baffled.
He didn’t even have time to figure out how they had discovered him. Everything he had endured today was because of Pei Wenwei, and he hated him to the core, wishing he could tear him apart. There was no way he would give him any clues.
“It seems like you’re not planning to talk.” Wen Shi’s smile gradually faded. “The Puppet Guild once tried to attack me in a hotel to extract information. Their methods of interrogation were despicable, but sometimes they do work.”
With his identity exposed, Tu Bianxi stopped pretending as well and simply glared coldly at them. The game hadn’t completely erased his player identity, so they couldn’t kill a fellow player.
The Ghost Wall and the puppet operated in the gray area, not being classified as causing harm. Torture and coercion were a different story.
Wen Shi wasn’t skilled in torturing people, so he turned to look at Yu Xingzhou.
Yu Xingzhou: “……”
Why aren’t you turning to Li Nan?
Li Nan spoke up voluntarily, his face showing no expression. “There are no treatment guidelines in the Fairy Tale Zone.”
It was a newly established area, so many aspects weren’t quite perfected.
“Among us, we have a doctor and nurses. According to our professional roles, it’s perfectly fine to administer treatment to him,” Li Nan argued reasonably, “In the deep zones, there are many treatment rooms, and all we need to do is put the patient in and activate the equipment.
“…The Fairy Tale Zone is starting to turn a shade of red.” Li Nan turned back to glance at the corridor behind him. The floor lamps were emitting a faint crimson glow. “Red signifies danger. If you continue to delay, we’ll retreat and take you to experience all the treatment packages.”
When it came to understanding human psychology, the veteran players truly shone.
Without waiting for Tu Bianxi to analyze Li Nan’s words in detail, Yu Xingzhou took over. “Usually, red light indicates surgery in progress, and green light means it’s finished. The Red Fairy Tale Zone is the most dangerous one, meaning that the whole area becomes extremely hazardous during the surgical process. I need to know just how dangerous it is.”
If the director was planning a transplant, he’d need a place for the surgery. The Fairy Tale Zone he personally established was the most suitable location. So, what did the red and green lights represent? It was easy to distinguish.
Under the suffocating pressure, Tu Bianxi attempted to negotiate, but as soon as he raised his head, his pupils abruptly contracted.
Sharp, searing pain shot through his brain, signaling trouble with his puppet doll.
He changed his mind about stubborn resistance and made a new demand. “You must promise to get me out of this instance alive.”
Yu Xingzhou remained silent, his gaze fixated on the slowly reddening floor lamps.
Tu Bianxi quickly pondered how to negotiate.
When someone plays the bad cop, someone else naturally has to play the good cop. Wen Shi seized the opportunity to take the role. “My main quest is to inherit the hospital.”
Tu Bianxi’s first reaction was sheer absurdity.
“As the instance triggerer, having a special main quest isn’t unusual,” Wen Shi said calmly. “I can guarantee this with a lie-detection item. Once I successfully inherit the hospital, I will immediately release you.”
He tried to demonstrate as much value as possible from his continued existence, hoping to pry out more detailed information.
As expected, Tu Bianxi showed some interest.
Lie-detection items didn’t lie, so when Pei Wenwei said it, there was a high chance this special main quest was indeed real.
“Right now, there’s no time to work out more detailed terms,” Wen Shi produced a contract item with only the one clause he had mentioned.
Tu Bianxi clenched his teeth. “At the very least, add one more condition: during this period, you’re not allowed to intentionally harm me.”
Wen Shi smiled. “Of course.”
Provided he didn’t do something foolish.
In the end, Tu Bianxi signed the contract.
“All surgeries in the hospital take place in the Fairy Tale Zone. During each surgery, there are at least ten nurses present, and sometimes more nurses will join midway. Whatever you plan, it won’t succeed.”
Tu Bianxi hesitated. “Ordinary surgical lights are somewhat orange-red. The color tonight means that hospital staff are performing surgery, and security measures during the procedure will be even stricter.”
The three exchanged glances.
Li Nan’s tone was slightly somber. “Let’s try anyway.”
No matter how difficult, they had to give it a shot. With his Money Pathway, even if they failed, they could escape unharmed.
Song Yan suddenly spoke up. “There are many things with mirrors in the operating room. I can transform into a small mirror hidden in the surgical lights. During the surgery, any NPC who sees me will likely get distracted.”
Wen Shi immediately rejected his proposal. “If a fight breaks out, you might get accidentally harmed.”
Excessive mirror shattering might cause Song Yan to disappear as well.
Song Yan had more to say, but Wen Shi shook his head directly. “A wise man should not stand beneath a precarious wall. Don’t be too extreme in everything.”
Yu Xingzhou glanced at him from the side. In terms of how to conduct oneself, Pei Wenwei could indeed be considered a good mentor.
Wen Shi had Tu Bianxi lead them to the operating room to assess the situation. On the way, he told Song Yan, “I have a friend who used to be much more extreme than you, constantly planning how to become a vengeful ghost after death. But under my influence, he now has full self-control… You should learn from him too. Cherish and take care of your own body, okay?”
Song Yan nodded emphatically.
•
Fifth floor.
After the conversation with Wen Shi, Jian Qingrong had been staring at the red telephone.
More precisely, he was gazing at his own hand.
Among all the information Wen Shi provided about the quest, there was one sentence that stuck with him: The Director needs a hand transplant.
In the darkness, Jian Qingrong’s lips curled into a chilling smile.
If the director transplanted a hand with a contaminant, he would gain a certain degree of remote control.
When the time came, that hand would dance wildly on the piano.
After a while, Jian Qingrong withdrew his gaze and delved into another thought: Will Wen Shi be angry if I did this?
He quickly dismissed that idea, believing that Wen Shi would understand.
Considering his regenerative ability, he could regenerate a severed hand in less than a week. Trading that for the life of a dean who was about to embark on a killing spree was more than justified.
…Sometimes one had to make tough decisions.
Moreover, Wen Shi had a similar modus operandi, often relying on his ability to resurrect, dying time and time again, just like when they first met.
“In this matter, you are my best mentor,” Jian Qingrong muttered to himself.
***
Ow, the mentor is not mentoring.
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