Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Hearing the High Priest's command, Amos showed no reaction, but Albert's nerves quietly tensed.

Why was he specifically asked to stay?

Albert hadn't been with the foreigners for a long or short time. After graduating from college, following the clues left by a friend's father, he found his way to the Bureau of Investigation and was then assigned by the Bureau to infiltrate the foreigner organization. Perhaps because his college major was public security, his direct superior in the foreigners had him join the police force, thus becoming an undercover agent in the police for the foreigners.

This triple-agent life, from initially uncomfortable to later thriving in it, was marred only by the rigid internal structure of the foreigners. His superior in the foreigners was punished by the High Priest for corruption, leaving Albert in an awkward position within the organization.

If it weren't for his outstanding performance in a particular plan, he probably wouldn't have been able to be here now...

The others gradually left the abandoned church, their glances at Amos and Albert filled with various inscrutable meanings. Surely they could tell that High Priest Hog had asked these two to stay not because of any problems, but perhaps for a real promotion.

Amos had always been the High Priest's right-hand man, but what about Albert?

"Don't be so tense. I just want to ask about your opinion of Lann," sensing Albert's mood, Soren turned around, descended the steps, and casually sat on a bench beside Albert, his formidable presence gradually subsiding.

Albert dared not relax, searching his memories for interactions with Lann, and cautiously responded, "I believe he is an enigmatic entity."

"Oh?"

"Initially, I wasn't sure if he was the incarnate being," Albert recalled his first meeting with Lann. Aside from his distinctly unusual face, Lann seemed ordinary at first glance, almost like any regular person.

Later, he managed to arrange a meeting with Lann at Arkham University, confirming then that Lann indeed had lost his previous memories.

But the events that followed seemed to intentionally overturn his assumptions.

The trap Albert and Amos set together was effortlessly exposed by Lann, who pinpointed Albert's identity.

That was hardly the behavior of an amnesiac, naïve evil deity. On the contrary, those who thought he understood nothing were the real prey caught in the trap.

Albert gave a wry smile, "What we can confirm is that he seems indeed restricted, but even so, we cannot let our guard down."

"A lean camel is still bigger than a horse, let alone an inscrutable evil deity," Soren pondered and sighed, "It's also unclear what His true form is. In such a short time since His arrival, He's already gathered so many followers."

Truth be told, the players' dynamism was a headache for the foreigners deeply entrenched in Arkham for so long.

Mainly because their actions were so unrestrained – fearless of death, tireless, and with Black Poker clandestinely providing them with various weapons, they were like mercenaries causing trouble for all powers.

Moreover, due to the foreigners' plans, most of Arkham's residents needed to stay put until the final moment. Therefore, they couldn't cause widespread chaos in the city to avoid mass panic and potential evacuation, limiting many of their tactics.

Soren murmured regretfully, "What a pity. If he had obediently boarded that plane, we could have simply destroyed it. Even an evil deity would be gravely injured from such a height."

Albert involuntarily shuddered. To avoid Soren noticing, he bowed his head, concealing the surprise in his eyes.

It wasn't just shock at the foreigners' overwhelming power in Arkham, but also a reminder of the scene he witnessed at the airport last time.

"Lann returned... Could it be he saw through the High Priest's setup?"

Unbeknownst to him, several overt and covert conflicts had already occurred, and recent events were merely the escalation of this struggle onto the followers.

Arkham... had become the stage for these two powers.

In the following days, Albert stayed close to Soren with Amos, accessing more core secrets. This eased Albert's mind a bit, as he realized this wasn't the worst-case scenario he had anticipated, but rather a sign of being gradually accepted into the core of the foreigners.

Probably in recognition of his daring approach to Lann, or perhaps because the high-ranking foreigners had been harassed into inaction recently, regardless of the reason, this was an opportunity to get closer to Soren.

……

However, from Lann's perspective, things seemed to be progressing in a worrying direction.

Initially, the players' actions caught the foreigners off guard, and coupled with Lann's knowledge of nodes from his past life, the players had an easy time destroying the suspicious circles.

But the foreigners, operating behind the scenes, would inevitably notice the players' actions. As time passed, the players found fewer and fewer circle nodes.

Lann didn't believe the hidden powers had given up; it was more likely they had just concealed their activities deeper.

Adding to his frustration was the unsuccessful investigation at the hospital; the players who entered the hospital couldn't 'enter' the night-time hospital.

It seemed the hospital did turn to night, but unlike the Druid's experience, it didn't transition into a monster-filled anomalous space; all abnormalities appeared to have vanished.

No, perhaps not vanished, but hidden...

Had the foreigner organization noticed something?

Just then, the Soul-Eating Butterfly, pretending to be a decorative butterfly on Lann's chest, suddenly fluttered its wings and took flight, disrupting Lann's thoughts. He instinctively looked in the direction it flew.

Since bringing it back, this notorious A-level anomaly had been motionless on his clothes, pretending to be part of the attire. Lann, not daring to forcefully remove it, had decided to ignore it and let it stay.

He had almost forgotten its existence; this was the first time the Soul-Eating Butterfly had shown any activity, causing Lann to watch its flight path intently for a few seconds.

Regrettably, even though the window was right beside it, and it could have regained its freedom with just a flap of its wings, the Soul-Eating Butterfly showed no intention of flying away, as if its flight was merely for exercise. After finishing, it returned to its spot on Lann's clothes.

Lann regretfully shifted his gaze away.

Outside the psychotherapy room's window, on a certain floor, a person secretly observing was sweating profusely, crouched under the railing.

When Lan realized he had been spotted, he knew his cover was blown.

It wasn't unexpected; he understood that remaining undetected while surveilling was nearly impossible.

He had long been prepared to sacrifice his life for his mission.

Everything was for the sake of returning to his homeland.

After quietly leaving the surveillance site, the watcher made a call: "I've been discovered. The target hasn't made any moves yet, but this surveillance spot is compromised."

"Understood, you can leave now," the voice on the phone softened, "Your efforts are appreciated, and the organization will remember your dedication. All wanderers will eventually return to their homeland."

With fervor, the watcher repeated the phrase: "All wanderers will eventually return to their homeland."

After the call ended, in the office of the Arkham Hospital director, Soren stood behind his desk, murmuring:

"It seems we need a different approach, invite him over."

"With all due respect, Lord of the Order," Amos spoke deliberately, "Lan has been staying in his psychology clinic these days. It's located near the city center, and there's a constant flow of people in and out of his clinic every day. If we act directly, it could attract unwanted attention."

"Of course, I am aware of that," Soren replied.

Suddenly, a pained moan echoed in the director's office. The white-haired man looked down at the middle-aged man at his feet: "Oh, I almost forgot about you."

The middle-aged man was the director of Arkham Hospital. He was just going through paperwork as usual when three strangers walked in and he lost consciousness.

Barely regaining consciousness, the director immediately realized the hospital had unwelcome guests. He struggled to crawl on the carpet, trying to reach the alarm under the desk.

Soren watched the director's struggle with the amusement of a cat toying with a mouse. Just as the director pressed the alarm, Soren smiled.

Then, placing his hand on the director's head, he uttered a string of complex, obscure incantations. Their clothes began to swap; the director's lab coat transformed into a patient's gown, while Soren now wore a lab coat with a clear nameplate:

Director of Arkham Hospital, Soren Hogue.

Less than two minutes after the alarm was pressed, security burst into the director's office: "What happened? Gentlemen?"

"You've arrived just in time," Soren pointed at the middle-aged man on the floor, "This patient somehow barged into my office. Take him away."

"Yes, sir." The security guard complied without hesitation.

The middle-aged man's face showed disbelief: "Are you insane? Wait, I am the director! I am the director!"

"Sure, sure, we know you're the director," the guard responded dismissively, "How did you escape from the psychiatric ward?"

"We'll have to make sure the nurses keep a closer eye on the patients. What if they harm someone?"

"No, no! He's the intruder, I am the director, I am the director of Arkham Hospital!"

Soren watched them leave with a smile, then closed the office door and pulled out an obsolete discharge report from the paper files.

[Name: Lan

Gender: Male

Condition: Mild burns (approved for discharge)]

"All we need to do is wait quietly for a while."

Albert and Amos, of course, had no objections. As the sky darkened outside the window, Soren finally began his ritual.

He drew a dagger and cut his wrist, letting dark red blood flow from the wound.

The blood seemed to have a mind of its own, writhing in the air like earthworms, eventually forming into eerie symbols.

Albert, who had been closely watching Soren's every move, suddenly felt a painful twitch in his eyes upon seeing the symbols and quickly looked away.

Then, a string of bizarre and complex words spilled from Soren's mouth.

[Come forth, come forth... my brethren]

……

As night deepened, Lan had no intention of returning to his apartment. He had already arranged with Ogler to avoid involving him, planning not to return for a while and hoping Ogler would stay home as much as possible.

"I'll explain everything once this is all over," Lan told Ogler.

Ogler complied, as always, never interfering with Lan's actions or oddities...

In the dead of night at the psychological clinic, Lan was searching through data on his computer, accessing an investigator's internal website based on information from Edmund.

He had known about this website in his past life, but rarely visited it. Everyone knew why - if players discovered such a thing, the original ecosystem would be unsustainable... Anyway, it went 404 later, possibly moved to a new URL.

This site served as a communication hub for those in the know about the otherworld, initially exclusive to the Inspection Bureau. As more people learned of it, it became semi-public, even occasionally hosting messages from cultists.

He logged into the site mainly seeking inspiration. In his previous life's game, players never encountered an inability to enter the hospital at night, so he was clueless and hoped to find some leads.

After a long search, he didn't find any clues, but stumbled upon several intriguing posts.

Like the one Lan was currently viewing, apparently a psychologist's analysis of the Dream Rift. Honestly, the power system of the Dream Rift was quite fascinating. It required neither cultivation nor external force. To traverse the Dream Rift, one needed only three things: a natural talent (to sense the Rift), an uncorrupted, steadfast will (to walk its stairway), and mental fortitude (to endure its trials).

For instance, the first layer of the Dream Rift involved overcoming fear, while the second was 'awakening from madness', both involving psychological and mental states – no wonder psychologists found it intriguing.

Lan didn't have high hopes when he opened the author's paper, but the more he read, the more he discovered its brilliance.

The paper's title was bold, attempting to deconstruct the Dream Rift's challenges through psychology and finding easier ways to overcome them with professional skills.

Simply put, it tried to 'take a shortcut' using methods like hypnosis or self-suggestion, such as temporarily fooling oneself into not fearing something, thereby easily overcoming the first layer of the Dream Rift.

It delved into plenty of psychological and hypnotic knowledge. Frankly, Lan found it quite engaging, though the paper faced much criticism.

Codename Courtship: "A bold study, but frankly, meaningless. The Inspection Bureau has conducted thousands, if not tens of thousands, of such studies, from developmental psychology onwards. Analysis of the Dream Rift never ceased, and frankly, predecessors achieved some success. But no one, I mean no one, has ever cheated their way through the Dream Rift's challenges."

4l: How can you be so certain?

Codename Courtship: Ever heard of Froken, my friend? A master in the field of psychology. Just so you know, he was involved in our Inspection Bureau's project to deconstruct the Dream Rift. His main focus was using hypnosis to cheat through the Dream Rift's challenges. He even succeeded initially, but by the time he reached the third layer, he was no longer himself.

6l: ??? What do you mean?

After that, the user 'Codename Courtship' never appeared again. Whether they were caught slacking at work or leaking Inspection Bureau information, the post gradually faded into obscurity.

As the replies in the thread indicated, research on the Dream Rift was abundant and no longer surprising.

Perhaps due to his limited exposure, Lan En found himself intrigued by the author after reading the paper, especially the author's understanding of the second layer of the Dream Gap and the proposed theory of using 'anchors' to stabilize sanity amidst madness.

Unfortunately, he had never personally experienced the trials of the Dream Gap and thus couldn't verify the speculations of the paper.

Lan En even glanced at the author's name on the paper, which was 'Anonymous', leaving the author's identity unknown.

It was a pity, as he was somewhat interested in having a conversation with the author if he knew who it was.

As he thought this, Lan En suddenly felt an inexplicable wave of sleepiness, his vision blurring and his eyelids drooping bit by bit.

It was like returning to the Dream Gap, surrounded by fog, unclear and indistinct; he knew he was dreaming, which was quite novel for him, experiencing a lucid dream for the first time.

Then, a voice emerged from the fog, tirelessly echoing in his ear, as if saying something. Lan En tilted his head, listening intently for a moment.

Descend? What's descending?

Lan En wasn't interested and didn't respond to the voice, drifting away casually. The voice, shamelessly persistent, followed him, prompting Lan En to swat it away in annoyance, like shooing a fly.

"Pfft—"

Under the watchful gaze of Albert's Amos, Soren suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, dark red, almost black, with wriggling maggots in it.

The white-haired man's forehead bulged with veins, his whole body trembling, bleeding from all orifices.

"Master," Amos called out, wanting to stop him from continuing the ritual, but Soren waved him off.

"I will try again," he said, his breath unstable, "If this method doesn't work, be ready for all-out war."

Albert and Amos's expressions turned solemn, both aware of what total war implied. No one knew how strong Lan En currently was or what his backup plans were; if a full-scale war broke out, half of Arkham City might be prematurely involved.

Albert eyed the weakened state of the Master, his gaze shifting slightly, hesitating whether to make his move right then.

Soren, with his back to them, seemed to trust them completely, leaving himself wide open.

But Albert glanced at Amos, who stood motionless, and moved his fingers slightly, eventually lowering his hand, deciding against it.

Soren took another breath, slowly exhaling. As he did, more spots and wrinkles appeared on his face, aging him by over a decade in an instant, transforming from the skin of a man in his twenties to that of someone in his thirties.

Subsequently, he extended his left arm, and under the watchful eyes of Albert and Amos, his left arm astonishingly broke apart completely. No blood flowed from the wound, and the severed limb fell onto the complex symbols below.

……

Some theories suggest that dreams are manifestations of active brain neurons, with significant events of the day surfacing in dreams through the subconscious.

Recently, what Lan En cared about most was this 'main event'. While other players treated it as a mere game, Lan En knew it was anything but. The consequences of failing the mainline were not just the disappearance of the game map.

His most valued Arkham Hospital had seen no progress from the players, not even the triggering of this instance by the Druid of the previous life had any effect.

This left Lan En deeply worried. What should he do?

If this delay continued, they might face the same outcome as in his previous life.

A change was essential...

If he were still a player, what would he do in this situation?

Without hesitation, Lan En thought: Of course, one must enter the tiger's den to capture its cubs.

At this moment, the fog began to change.

Inside the hospital, a medical record used in the ritual suddenly burst into flames. Soren, a glint of joy in his eyes, quickly grabbed a pen with his right hand and made a slight alteration in the diagnosis column.

[Diagnosis: Severe Mania, Transferred to the Psychiatric High-Risk Ward.]

……

The hospital exploration instance was not going smoothly.

The players tried every trick in the book to infiltrate the hospital: some applied for jobs as hospital orderlies, others braved the night to scale the walls and almost got sent to the police station, and the more desperate ones even harmed themselves to become patients.

But these tactics only got them so far as working in the hospital for a while or getting hospitalized themselves. Hospital stays weren't cheap, and several players drained their coffers with little to show for their investigative progress.

It was quite odd, as if the night the Druid experienced was just a dream, and the special instance didn't actually exist.

Or was there some specific condition needed to trigger it?

The Druid felt bewildered, clutching tightly to his keychain.

This was an item he had brought from the closed beta, and it might now be the only hope of unlocking the night instance.

He had originally planned to use this key again at the hospital at night, since it was obtained during the night, but he no longer had the time or energy to invest here. In fact, many players had already decisively abandoned the hospital instance for other routes. According to forum discussions, they had actually found some clues at Arkham University and the suburbs; perhaps starting from there would be easier.

But the Druid couldn't let go. This task was personally assigned to him by Lan En. Although it was a bit strange, he had been determined to be the first to clear this hospital instance since receiving the key from Lan En.

In that case, it was time to take a risk.

The Druid had originally obtained this set of keys from the reception nurse, which were likely for unlocking special rooms, like the hospital’s laboratory or the nurses' break room. He decided to first check out the nurses' break room.

After consulting with Black Cat, they decided one would distract the nurses while the other searched the nurses' station.

Naturally, the Druid took on this task. With his scouting skills, he was the best choice for the job. Watching Black Cat approach the nurse, the Druid rolled a successful stealth skill and quietly made his way to the nurses' station, beginning to try each key.

The game's realism was a double-edged sword; each time a trial failed, he couldn't help but feel a surge of fear, worried that someone might notice the scene.

Logically, being in a game, he shouldn’t be so nervous, but that's the price of being an immersive player.

Finally, on the fourth attempt, luck was on his side. The Druid successfully opened the door, subtly gave Black Cat a thumbs-up, and quietly slipped through the door gap.

The nurses' station was just an ordinary break room, with several sets of clothes laid aside. Drawing on his extensive role-playing experience, the Druid headed straight for the desk, but unfortunately found nothing but a few medical records – as expected, the clues wouldn't be so obviously placed.

He then activated his scouting skill and, as the dice landed in the 'difficult success' range, his vision highlighted several spots encircled in red.

The most prominent among them was a lady's coat hanging on a rack. Carefully taking it down, the Druid reached inside and found a diary.

The diary belonged to... Anita.

[I've gained weight again, I hate it. I've decided to continue fasting for the next three days.]

[Today, some bitch in the break room was showing off her slim waist. Hah, I'll surpass her soon and find a hotter boyfriend than hers.]

[Nurse Mary was giving me a hard time again today. Should I sneak a spider into her clothes? I heard she's terrified of them.]

[Dieting, dieting, I must get thinner. No one likes a fat person.]

[Mary called me in for a talk today, again about anorexia. So annoying. Why does that old woman have to meddle? I'd rather die than become a fatso like her!]

The diary brimmed with astonishing hostility; the Druid read it with bated breath, recalling online discussions about how dieting and weight loss can lead to irritability. Women can be harsh on themselves.

After flipping through a few pages, the diary's tone abruptly shifted from workplace grievances to a young girl's romantic yearnings.

[Today, a really handsome patient came in,]

[He was really handsome, I got scolded by Nurse Mary for staring at him.]

[I took the chance to secretly snap a photo; this will be my treasure from now on.]

[I know that other doctors and nurses in the hospital like him too.]

[Why can't he just like me? Am I not pretty enough? I'll become thinner and more beautiful, and then...]

The Druid was about to continue reading when a player's message popped up.

Black Cat: Are you done yet? I can't hold her off much longer, that receptionist nurse insists on returning to the station!

Black Cat: Run, brother, the blonde nurse is heading back!

The Druid, as if his tail was on fire, hurriedly put the diary back, rehung the coat on the rack, and swiftly left the room. He had just stepped out of the nurses' station when the blonde nurse appeared around the corner.

"What are you doing here?"

Anita eyed the Druid suspiciously. Stammering and scratching his head, he replied, "Uh, I got lost."

It was a lame excuse, but he couldn’t think of any other reason to be in the nurses' station. Obviously, Anita also found the excuse weak. However, the Druid remained calm; as long as he wasn't caught red-handed, Anita couldn’t do much to him, especially since he had a legitimate temporary role as an orderly.

Sure enough, Anita just gave him a skeptical look, similar to that reserved for an almost-caught perpetrator, but eventually said nothing. The Druid sighed in relief, turned, and started to leave in the opposite direction to meet up with his teammate.

"Wait." Anita’s voice suddenly turned ominous, "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."

The Druid laughed it off: "I don’t think so... I have a common face, maybe you’re mistaken. I have to go, I’m busy..."

"No, I've seen you... I remember this presence!"

The blonde nurse's voice deepened as she stepped toward the Druid, her footsteps growing heavier. Unable to resist, the Druid turned to look, and what he saw nearly scared him out of his wits.

The petite blonde nurse began to swell step by step as she approached, transforming into the monstrous figure of the Meat Mountain Butcher that the Druid had seen before. Layers of greasy flesh piled around her waist, and her delicate face turned into a huge, platter-sized one with small eyes and shark-like teeth.

Warnings kept popping up in his mind from the system.

[Inspiration Check - Successful]

[Willpower Check - Failed]

[Sanity Check - Successful]

The Druid wanted to run, but his legs seemed rooted to the ground. The transformed Anita approached him, her basin-sized hand grabbing the Druid and lifting him up:

"Ha, ha, ha, I recognize you, little mouse," the Meat Mountain Butcher grinned menacingly, "Finally caught in my hands."

"Give me back the photo!"

The Meat Mountain Butcher showed no sign of lessening her grip. The Druid's face turned red, feeling nearly crushed to death, and no one would willingly be so close to the Meat Mountain Butcher, even with pain sensation disabled.

Just as the Druid's health was nearing the safety threshold, another chillingly familiar voice resounded.

"What are you doing, Anita?"

Startled, Anita turned to see the red-haired matron standing at the end of the hallway, and instantly let go in fright.

The Druid fell to the ground, scrambling to turn his head towards the newcomer.

The red-haired nurse matron was actually quite attractive, with her stunning red hair and beautiful, majestic features, only slightly marred by a cyanotic complexion that added a hint of eeriness.

Unfortunately for the Druid, having witnessed her transform into a spider, he had mercilessly kicked her off his list of potential game wives - for him, it was still too soon for such a relationship.

Come to think of it, wasn't she supposed to be dead? She should have perished alongside the monster in the adjacent room!

The red-haired nurse matron coldly stared at Anita: "Assaulting an orderly without cause, let me think, you've broken at least three hospital regulations..."

"I didn't!" the Meat Mountain Butcher's voice became frantic, clearly terrified of the red-haired nurse matron, "I just saw him acting suspiciously... and he stole my photo earlier!"

"Is that so," Nurse Matron Mary shifted her gaze to the Druid, who hastily defended himself, "I didn't steal it, really, you can search me."

"You must have hidden the photo somewhere else!" Anita's eyes were filled with intense resentment.

"Enough," Mary said coldly, "Shut up if you don’t have proof!"

Before the Druid could sigh in relief, Mary turned to him, "You, get back to your post."

"Okay, okay, no problem," the Druid nodded eagerly, "Uh... where exactly is my post?"

Mary glanced at him and turned away, "Follow me."

It looked like she was actually taking him back to his workstation? That easygoing?

The Druid hurriedly followed, casting a furtive glance back at Anita before leaving. She was staring at him too, baring her sharp teeth as if to say, there would be a reckoning.

The Druid shuddered and quickly turned away.

Led by the red-haired nurse through half the hospital, the Druid felt increasingly chilled. He was sure it had only been just after noon, but as he walked through the hospital now, the lighting and the scenery outside had already turned to night.

And that wasn’t all.

The people here too...

The Druid, sweating coldly, passed a patient with organs hanging from IV tubes. A child laughing merrily bumped into him. The Druid tried to dodge, but still got hit in the shin. The child's face was a bloody, fleshy mess, emitting a piercing cry.

The Druid dared not stop, following closely behind Nurse Matron Mary, his forehead beading with cold sweat.

[Willpower Check - Failed, Sanity -2]

[Willpower Check - Failed, Sanity -1]

What is going on here? Why does it feel even more terrifying than what I saw before!

And why had he suddenly entered the hospital at night?

In the players' team chat, Black Cat was incessantly sending him messages.

Black Cat: Where are you? I've been looking for you.

Black Cat: You didn't get killed, did you?

Black Cat: If you're still online, reply.

Druid: I-I-I've entered the instance (confused).

Druid: You might not believe it, but I just suddenly got in, totally unprepared.

Druid: This place is terrifying, omg. This instance might be much higher level than we thought. I'm shivering among a bunch of monsters.

Druid: Photo.jpg Photo.jpg.

While sending photos to Black Cat, the Druid observed his surroundings. He noticed a large area in Arkham's central courtyard was fenced off. Passing the courtyard and walking some distance, Nurse Matron Mary leading the way stopped and said in her chilling voice, "We're here."

The Druid looked around in bewilderment, realizing they had left the medical building they were in before and arrived at a rear area of the hospital, enclosed by high walls and an iron gate with rusted letters.

'Psychiatric Treatment Area, No Trespassing.'

"We're short on orderlies here, you'll work in this area," said Mary.

The Druid quickly agreed, not daring to refuse.

Strangely, after leading him here, Mary didn’t turn back but walked in herself. The Druid thought she was taking him on a tour of the area, wondering in his mind, are there good people in this eerie place?

Uh... good monsters?

Mary ignored the Druid following her but didn’t drive him away either, walking purposefully ahead. The Druid had no choice but to keep silent and follow her. The two, a man and a monster, gradually moved deeper into the core area. The Druid passed through iron gates one after another, until finally, Mary stopped in front of a ward on the third floor.

The wards here were different from the regular ones outside; they were all welded shut with iron doors, and only a small window allowed a view inside.

Mary stared obsessively through the window. Out of curiosity, the Druid tiptoed to peer inside, and what he saw made his eyes widen.

It was Lan En!

Having not seen him for a day, Lan En had somehow moved from the psychotherapy room to this place. He was wearing a high-risk psychiatric patient's restraint suit, entwined with golden chains, as if sealing something dangerous.

Suddenly, his eyelids twitched, his dense eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, slowly opening his eyes.

Those emerald eyes, like jewels, seemed to be tinged with divine gold under the influence of the golden chains, transforming him from a sealed monster into a bound deity.

[Willpower Check...]

The Druid's eyes widened, those eyes seemed to pierce directly into his heart. He instinctively held his breath, his body instinctually taking a screenshot before his mind could react.

He felt that if he didn't capture this moment, he would regret it for the rest of his life.