Chapter 6: The Madmen’s Pantomime (5)

“Brother? Nan Lin, Nan Lin!”

Ruan Yu’s voice carried a note of alarm. He looked at Nan Lin’s off expression, worry written openly across his face.

【Player Nan Lin Sanity decreased: 47→45.】

Like a drowning man surfacing at last, Nan Lin’s eyes snapped open from the memory. He turned toward the source of the voice, and for a moment he could not hide the killing intent in his eyes.

He turned his head and drew a light breath. A beat of silence, and then he spoke again: “I’m taking the elevator.”

But in his head he was thinking: I need to find the time and the chance to shake this one off, so he doesn’t die by my hand.

Ruan Yu watched Nan Lin steadily. Surprised by his persistence, he pressed his finely shaped lips together and said only: “I’ll come with you.”

As he spoke, Nan Lin calmly brushed his hand away.

“There’s no need. Taking the stairs is far safer for you.”

Nan Lin: Great. Now he’s actively trying to get himself killed.

Ruan Yu watched Nan Lin reach out and press the elevator call button, and hurried to follow, muttering something that sounded like he refused to be left behind.

Nan Lin: “…”

Naive. You think I’d let you catch up… no, wait, is this one a little slow in the head?

Ruan Yu caught the look in Nan Lin’s eyes, the words held back on the tip of his tongue, and tilted his head slightly in confusion.

He looked so pure and well-meaning, so innocent, eyes brimming with clear and honest stupidity.

Ruan Yu ended up riding the elevator with Nan Lin. The moment the doors closed, a bone-deep chill climbed from his calves up his spine.

The sensation was profoundly wrong, yet Ruan Yu simply lowered his head and stood obediently at Nan Lin’s side.

Nan Lin watched the numbers on the display in silence, his fingers tapping out a soft, soundless rhythm.

Something was crawling up from the bottom of the deep, dark elevator shaft.

Ruan Yu’s hands were behind his back. His fingertips suddenly brushed against something soft and freezing. The instant it felt the warmth of his finger pads, the thing began to writhe and constrict in a frenzy.

The man’s beautiful eyes drifted half shut, a thread of a smile in them. Beneath that harmless and gentle exterior, the hand behind his back squeezed viciously.

Black viscous fluid seeped from between his fingertips, while his face stayed clean and clear.

Only when Nan Lin finally moved did Ruan Yu pull his hand back and quickly wipe it against the fabric at the small of his back.

“Brother, this elevator is slowing down.”

At the sound, Nan Lin nodded almost imperceptibly.

Indeed. The elevator’s ascent was slowing, and it had risen far past the third floor.

His fingers, tapping lightly against the hem of his garment, came to a sudden stop. The soft chime the elevator made at each passing floor had fallen completely out of sync with his rhythm.

The numbers on the display began to flicker wildly, and the already dim cabin lights started to sputter.

“It’s here.”

Nan Lin’s voice was very light, and yet perfectly steady.

In the still space, an enormous bang suddenly erupted. The world lurched and spun. Beyond the sealed cabin doors, endless black mist surged in, wrapping around Nan Lin and Ruan Yu layer after layer.

The black mist blotted out everything, then vanished in an instant.

His vision cleared. Only Nan Lin remained in the cabin.

He looked at the [-18] displayed before him and walked expressionlessly out through the wide-open elevator doors.

Outside, a sea of voices. It was as if the entire asylum’s timeline had been yanked forward by several years. Nan Lin could even see medical staff hurrying past in every direction.

He kept his head down and walked along the wall, rounding several bends until he came to a quiet duty room.

He pushed open a brand-new glass window, revealing a windowsill lined with potted plants. The sill was fairly wide. A landline phone and a logbook crammed with handwriting sat on it, with a ring of keys resting on top. Every key bore a floor and room number.

Nan Lin reached for the keys, and that was when the landline began to scream.

What perfect timing.

A burst of static crackled past, and then came a young man’s voice, flippant and brash.

“Hello? Is this the Cartagena Asylum reception desk?”

Nan Lin’s eyes swept over the large characters “RECEPTION” on the door. He made a sound of assent.

“Ha, great. Pass a message along for me to the patient in bed A of ward B-301.”

“Who?”

“Ward B-301, bed A. The guy called Chong Jiu.”

A startlingly familiar room number. It was the one the patient in the cafeteria had offered up himself, right after stepping on Song De’s hand.

Nan Lin’s gaze slid back to the logbook. He pulled the small booklet out one-handed. The person on the other end seemed to hear the rustle of pages and fell silent.

“Chong Jiu,” Nan Lin said, pausing. “You’re his attending physician?”

The man laughed, his tone even more brazen. “Nope. I’m his wardmate. Broke out just yesterday.”

Nan Lin: “…”

What a showoff.

Perhaps because he heard neither shock nor cursing from Nan Lin, and none of the panicked chaos he had expected, the breathing on the other end gradually grew ragged, threaded with a low animal growl. Only after a good while did it calm again, and he began to boast about his brilliant escape.

“Did you think your security was airtight?”

The man’s voice was wildly exaggerated, edged with something like madness.

All the while, Nan Lin listened in silence, and his hands never stopped moving.

The yellowed pages of the logbook turned swiftly. Among a mass of obscure names and diagnoses, he finally found several that looked familiar.

[Patient Name: Nan Lin (Ward: A-37, Bed A);

Admission Diagnosis: Emotionless Personality Disorder, Mania.

Patient Name: Ruan Yu (Ward: A-37, Bed B);

Admission Diagnosis: Emotional Disorder (large black scrawl).

Patient Name: Lin Yi (Ward: A-39, Bed B);

Admission Diagnosis: Autism.

…

…

Patient Name: Chong Jiu (Ward: B-301, Bed A);

Admission Diagnosis: Stockholm Syndrome.

Patient Name: (meaningless scribbles) (Ward: B-301, Bed B);

Admission Diagnosis: Histrionic Personality Disorder.

…

…]

Histrionic personality disorder.

Nan Lin’s fingers brushed over the term. He had once had an opponent who was the same brand of sick.

They constantly wanted to be the center of attention, frequently dressing up and acting out through inappropriate provocation and seduction, dramatizing themselves in the most extreme fashion, all to achieve the goal of holding everyone’s gaze.

The same twisted taste, down to the letter.

But on this logbook, the patient’s name had been scratched out by someone.

No. Perhaps the man had done it himself.

The voice on the phone had not faded. In fact, because Nan Lin had gone so long without answering, the man’s tone grew visibly irritable.

“What, scared stupid? Then go on cowering in this asylum with your fingers in your ears, waiting to die!”

“I have a question,” Nan Lin said suddenly, cutting through the man’s escalating laughter. “Did you just say the underground passage runs beneath the cafeteria?”

“……”

A very obvious silence.

Nan Lin thought about it, then added: “I’m your wardmate too.”

“……”

An even longer silence.

Just as Nan Lin assumed the man had hung up, a low male voice came through again. “The underground passage under the cafeteria may have already been discovered by the director. It’s dangerous down there now. Of course, if you don’t believe me, you can go look for yourself. The exact location is under the third iron table against the left wall.”

“There’s a second escape route?” Nan Lin closed the logbook. His fingertips trembled as he looked at the figure gradually materializing on the corridor wall.

The man clearly hadn’t expected Nan Lin’s perception to be this sharp. In almost the same instant, the kid had seen through his smug little game and picked out the subtext buried in his words.

“Why should I tell you? That said, if you…”

“Too late. Goodbye.”

Nan Lin hung up without an ounce of mercy. He stared at the small, increasingly distinct shadow, scanned the surroundings, and found nowhere at all to hide.

The sound was drawing closer.

One of Nan Lin’s arms hung completely loose. His other hand settled on the back of the chair, the habit he always fell into before striking.

But the thing’s target did not appear to be the room Nan Lin was in. The shadow cast on the wall began to fade.

Nan Lin shifted his steps with care, avoiding any sound he could.

What exactly was wandering through this asylum?

Just as the danger seemed to be receding, the landline on the windowsill suddenly rang again. At the same moment, a phone began to ring in the direction of the dark shadow outside.

A variation of “Für Elise.”

Not good.

Nan Lin shot to his feet and vaulted out the window to the back of the building.

But the sound didn’t stop. After a brief pause, it came charging in his direction.

It had caught up.

From the corner of his eye he saw the shadow hard on his heels. Nan Lin gauged the distance, dodged the flow of people, and never once broke stride.

–

Outside the dungeon, in the game hall.

The players gathered around the screen kept growing in number, and the noise grew with them.

“This guy… he went and provoked Teresa?”

“It’s over for him. Teresa is the craziest lunatic in that entire asylum.”

“But this Nan Lin… isn’t he in the asylum’s reflection? It can’t be a guaranteed death, right?”

“Idiot. Teresa is the only one who’s a madwoman in the reflection and in reality alike.”

“Wait. Where is he leading Teresa?”

“The cafeteria?!! What’s he going to the cafeteria for?!”

–

The cafeteria.

Nan Lin checked the time one last time. Breakfast was still a long way off, and the cafeteria lay in total darkness.

[When the cafeteria lights are on, entry is permitted.]

Which meant that when the cafeteria lights were out, players were not permitted to enter.

Players couldn’t go in. But a monster could, couldn’t it?

He could have shaken the thing off, but that would have been a wasted trip. He might as well let it go investigate the situation in the tunnel beneath the cafeteria.

Nan Lin tossed the golden rose seed in his hand, not a shred of guilt on his face.

【Game Scan: Unknown item detected. Scanning…】

“A friend gave it to me. Do you have a problem with that?” Nan Lin’s brow furrowed, a note of grievance in his tone.

This was already embarrassing enough. The kind of thing Wu Sheng would laugh himself sick over when he found out. And the game wanted to pile on too?

【…】

【Scan complete. Updating…】