Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Players-Only Hospital.

Though it was called an inpatient ward, it was really just a hotel designed for players to rest in.

A special power blanketed the ward, allowing Sanity to recover more efficiently. Simply remaining within the area ensured a steady recovery.

Once a player’s Sanity became corrupted, there were three ways to restore it.

First, purchase a restorative potion directly from the System Shop.

Second, return to the Players-Only Hospital and recover through a normal stay.

Third, wait for it to recover automatically, though that method was far slower than the second.

All things considered, the second option offered the best value.

But at a critical moment, the first could save a life.

For the past few days, Xiao Huai had lain in his hospital room like a corpse. He was simply too exhausted to move.

Every time he closed his eyes and opened them again, he seemed to return to that laboratory, where his blood had been drawn day after day.

He had swallowed countless diamonds, his organs tormented over and over again.

Those three days had felt impossibly long.

Several times, he had nearly broken down.

One thought had filled his mind: If only all of them would die.

If they died, he would not have to hurt so much.

But he knew that if he truly did it…

He would cross that invisible boundary and fall into the abyss for good.

When he sat in the garden, he emptied his mind of every thought.

The falling snowflakes stung his skin, giving him another way to hold on to his reason.

“Does it hurt?”

Xiao Huai shot upright in the hospital bed.

Moonlight spilled through the window and fell across his trembling lashes. He frowned slightly.

Why had he thought of that man?

His brow furrowed, and he narrowed his eyes.

Lu Yuanshi had never appeared in his daily nightmares. Why, then, had Lu Yuanshi’s voice just echoed through his mind?

It was as though he had returned to that snowy day and that garden. When he looked up, the stroke of red paint seemed to become an invisible thread, always reminding him of Lu Yuanshi’s existence.

Whenever it touched his neck, those eyes would appear.

And all his pain would fade.

So when Lu Yuanshi had asked in the restaurant whether Xiao Huai had thought of him…

The answer had been yes.

But Xiao Huai would never admit it. Never.

He could not accept that thinking about another person was what eased his pain. He would rather believe Lu Yuanshi had done something to him.

How had Lu Yuanshi known the paint belonged to Joseph, and why had he marked Xiao Huai with it?

Had the white-bearded old man not tried to cause trouble with a story that mixed truth and lies, inadvertently confirming Xiao Huai’s suspicions…

Xiao Huai might still have foolishly believed Lu Yuanshi was merely a somewhat mysterious man.

Now, however, he believed Lu Yuanshi was mysterious because he possessed both the qualifications and the strength to remain completely unharmed.

He observed everyone like a spectator, never interfering too much, yet never offering a helping hand either.

But Xiao Huai distinctly remembered nearly losing control when he destroyed the heart at the very end.

Why had the corruption stopped then? Why had Lu Yuanshi told him to live?

A man like him rarely spoke the truth.

Lu Yuanshi had said he wanted to witness Xiao Huai’s death.

Yet Xiao Huai’s instincts told him that those words had not been a lie.

So why… had Lu Yuanshi ultimately wanted him to live?

The more Xiao Huai thought about it, the more inexplicably irritated he became.

He climbed out of bed, made a few selections on his system interface, and left the inpatient ward.
[Sanity: 90.]

Once a player’s Sanity rose above eighty, hospitalization was no longer mandatory.

Xiao Huai had also rested enough over the past few days.

The best way to forget someone was to throw himself immediately and completely into another game.

Everyone in his life was merely passing through.

Someone he had met once might not appear again for years, or perhaps they would never meet again at all.

Though he still had several days of standby time, there was nothing in particular Xiao Huai wanted to do here.

He went alone to the third-floor instance lobby. Compared with the second floor, far fewer people occupied this one.

But nearly everyone who emerged wore some degree of terror on their face.

Suddenly, a man in the game lobby began roaring like a madman.

“Aaaah! Why? Why?! Why did…” As soon as he reached certain key words, everyone’s hearing seemed to be automatically blocked.

Several black-clad NPCs entered and forcibly removed the player, whose Sanity had entered a state of collapse.

The third floor was like a dividing line between levels of players. Some began adapting to the gods’ horror game from the third floor onward.

Others gave up there, deciding to coast through their remaining days in idleness.

Xiao Huai instinctively looked toward the exit the man had come through. Almost no one emerged from it.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to throw my life away.”

An unfamiliar voice came from behind him. Xiao Huai turned and saw a haggard-looking middle-aged man with a face covered in stubble and lifeless eyes.

He squatted there in filthy clothes. He clearly had not bathed in days, and a strange odor clung to him.

Xiao Huai showed no disgust. He walked over and squatted beside the man.

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Huai asked softly.

The man lowered his head and said nothing more.

Xiao Huai watched him calmly. When he lowered his gaze, his eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through the man.

His mild voice reached the man’s ears. “Losing the person you love must be hard.”

The man’s pupils widened violently. Reacting on pure instinct, he seized Xiao Huai by the collar.

“What did you say?”

Xiao Huai caught his wrist and applied a little pressure. The man’s face twisted in pain, and he released his grip.

Xiao Huai rose and looked down at him. There was no blame or disgust in his eyes.

There was nothing at all. No emotion whatsoever.

He had spoken only to confirm his theory.

He had not obtained a single clue about any third-floor instance, nor had he considered visiting the player marketplace to buy clues for a particular game.

He chose games for only two reasons: Either they were interesting, or fate brought them to him.

The man before him had lingered in the game lobby for a long time, neither leaving nor joining another game.

One look into those eyes told Xiao Huai that he had lost the will to survive.

The middle-aged man was filthy from head to toe, with the sole exception of his left hand. It was remarkably clean, and a band of skin around his ring finger was paler than the rest.

It was the mark left by wearing a wedding ring for many years.

But the ring was no longer on his left ring finger. Perhaps it had been lost.

Or perhaps he refused to wear it.

Judging from the man’s reaction, the final possibility seemed more likely.

His response had been anger.

Xiao Huai sneered. “Were you the one who got them killed?”

The man’s pupils shook.

Despair, anguish, and endless regret flashed through his eyes.