Chapter 163: Where is the real core?
Inside the data room.
The cold light flickered overhead as neatly arranged iron shelves filled with data extended into the distance. The air was filled with the scent of dust and aged pages.
Wen Jianyan ran in the direction of Blond.
Soon, the other party’s dazzling blond hair appeared between the gaps of the shelves.
“You found the experiment records?” Wen Jianyan asked urgently.
“Yeah.”
Blond nodded vigorously, handed the folder in his hand to Wen Jianyan, and then pointed to a whole row of shelves in front of him: “I found them from here.”
Wen Jianyan lowered his head to look at the folder handed to him by Blond.
Here, records of experiments primarily involving “prefrontal lobectomy” as a major surgical procedure for therapeutic methods were documented. It was evident that the patients “voluntarily” participating in such experiments were from the Ping An Asylum.
However, these experiment records were confined to the “normal” surgical scope. Although the methods were outdated and cruel, they were, in a sense, products of the times, and there was a significant difference from the “flesh membrane” they had seen in the laboratory before.
At this moment, Luce also ran over from nearby: “Did you find the information related to the laboratory?”
Wen Jianyan nodded: “Probably.”
He pointed to the whole shelf of data in front of him: “According to the classification pattern of most data rooms, the data nearby should be related to the experiment records. I’ll start searching from here, and you start from there, alright?”
“Okay.”
Luce had no objections.
There were enough people here, so Su Cheng and the other members of Luce’s team didn’t come over. They continued to scatter, trying to find more clues. After all, this way, the efficiency would be higher.
Wen Jianyan turned back, patted Blond’s shoulder, and said, “You did well.”
Indeed, when the core goal was to find people or explore decryption, having a teammate with a vision talent in the party did offer a significant advantage in an instance.
Blond chuckled twice, subconsciously raising his hand to touch the back of his head, and a shy expression appeared on his face.
Regardless of the team, his mission was always to “find.”
Whether it was searching for the faces of mission targets or looking for possible clues, the specific operations were the same. This was his expertise and the chip he relied on to survive. Thanks to this useful talent, he could barely survive until now.
But for some reason…
Now, in this situation, it was far more satisfying than before.
Regardless of which team he was on, Blond would exert all his efforts to prove his usefulness. If he was deemed useless, he would be abandoned, and he didn’t want to die.
However, from some point on, the reason he used his ability had changed.
From out of fear of being abandoned…
To genuinely eager to help.
It always felt like his ability had been endowed with more value.
Blond lifted his eyes and looked at Wen Jianyan’s profile. The young man in front of him was lowering his head, searching for something on the iron shelves, with his side face partially hidden in the shadows cast by the shelves, appearing exceptionally focused.
“…”
He couldn’t help but be a little dazed.
Before this instance, Blond was still indecisive due to cowardice. He dared not actively propose leaving his current organization, but he still longed for the guild that Wen Jianyan mentioned, which had not yet been established. However, now…
Blond suddenly felt that even if he offended that organization, it probably wouldn’t matter.
This guy should be like he was just now; even if his palm was dripping with fresh blood, he would still firmly hold onto his unconscious teammate’s body and bring him to a safe place.
Seemingly sensing Blond’s gaze, Wen Jianyan turned his head to look.
“Nothing to do?”
Wen Jianyan said coldly, “Then go to another place to find clues. If you find anything, let me know.”
Blond: “…”
Give me back my touched feelings!
He nodded dejectedly, turned around, and walked toward another shelf.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Hahaha, laughing to death. Is it an illusion? I seem to see a shattered teenage heart.]
[Be more spirited, Blond! Recognize this guy’s exploitative nature as soon as possible!]
[Whoa! Whoa! Blond: From today on, I am a heartless telescope1
The rustling sound of flipping pages echoed in the silent data room.
Wen Jianyan lowered his head, scanning the experimental data in front of him at a glance.
Although these experimental data had no date markings, they seemed to be arranged in chronological order. In some experimental data with lower risks and harms, the names of some patients would repeatedly appear. However, in experiments with high risks or those seemingly lethal at first glance, the names of patients would disappear completely and never reappear in any subsequent data.
Most of these experiments were cruel and inhumane.
In addition to the prefrontal lobe removal surgery, there were also hydrotherapies, electric shocks, and some cruel methods he had only seen in movies or books before.
There were even extreme cases, such as brain transplants.
Even so, these experiments did not exceed the realm of “reality.”
From a modern perspective, these experiments were dangerous and irresponsible. However, it could not be denied that all these methods had actually appeared in human history.
This brought Wen Jianyan an extreme sense of disconnection.
After all, what he had seen in the laboratory before, the “flesh membrane,” could not be linked to “reality.” Compared to the cruelty artificially created by humans, it seemed more like a creature that would only appear in horror movies.
In other words, besides these, there should be more experimental records that have not been found.
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes thoughtfully and put back the data he had just flipped through on the shelf.
At this moment, Luce at the other end of the shelf suddenly spoke, “Hey, take a look. Isn’t this the doctor who took you away?”
Wen Jianyan walked over and looked at the folder in the other person’s hand.
On the list of doctors for one of the treatment surgeries, there was a familiar name: Dr. A. Reese.
Wen Jianyan nodded, “Yes.” The stolen card he had contained the same name.
Including the surgeries he had previously come across, he also saw the doctor’s signature. Although Dr. Reese looked very young, his tenure at the Ping An Asylum was quite old. From the beginning, which Wen Jianyan was responsible for, to the end, which Luce handled, the doctor’s name appeared.
Luce sighed, “Too bad. I was hoping to find his full name in these records.”
As he spoke, he put the folder back on the shelf. “But thinking about it, if tasks were that easy to complete, the difficulty wouldn’t be advanced.”
Wen Jianyan nodded in agreement.
Obviously, Reese was the surname, and “A” was the abbreviation for the first name. Suddenly, Wen Jianyan seemed to think of something, involuntarily freezing for a moment, his actions suspended in midair.
Come to think of it, in all the previous missions related to high-risk patients’ real names, when the system determined completion, he had only learned the “first” name and not the “last” name.
And in all these experiment records, all the patients’ names were represented by initials, with only surnames not being abbreviated…
Wen Jianyan widened his eyes slightly.
He seemed to realize something, suddenly turned around, and at the fastest speed, began searching through the experimental data he had just flipped through from behind.
Edward, first letter “E.”
Niel and Lore, first letters “N” and “L.”
Mars, first letter “M.”
Through these initials and his understanding of these people from the previous encounters–
Edward had schizophrenia and delusional tendencies.
Niel Lore had multiple personalities.
Mars had antisocial and violent tendencies.
Based on this information, Wen Jianyan quickly narrowed down the area in the data he had previously flipped through, selecting the experimental records most likely related to these high-risk patients.
Looking at the densely packed and even shocking experimental data spread on the floor, Wen Jianyan fell into silence.
Clearly, just like Dr. A. Reese, these names had run through the entire therapeutic history of the Ping An Asylum.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Wow…]
[Although there have been many anchors exploring the data room, it’s the first time I’ve seen someone systematically organize the experiments and surgical records of those high-risk patients… After all, these high-risk individuals are too dangerous. Basically, encountering them is almost a life-and-death situation. Few people can touch them one by one like the anchor did and even extract their real names from them…]
[Yes, if we don’t come into contact with those high-risk individuals, understand their symptoms, and know their real names, it’s impossible to find their treatment records in these countless scrolls. Even if we find the data room, it’s useless.]
[Wow wow, I’m getting excited now! It feels like the anchor is not far from the main plot! Looking forward to it! (100 reward points)]
Luce leaned over, staring at the cases arranged on the ground, his face showing an astonished expression.
“This… isn’t this too much?”
Wen Jianyan nodded silently.
He swept through these cases one by one, each representing an experiment carried out under the guise of “treatment,” each one cruel to the extreme. Even if a normal person entered the Ping An Asylum, after undergoing so many “treatments,” they would probably go insane.
He slightly squinted his eyes, tapping his knee joints gently with his bent fingers, revealing a thoughtful expression.
At this moment, Su Cheng’s call came from a distance, “There’s something here that I think you guys should take a look at!”
Wen Jianyan was startled, exchanged a glance with Luce, and then stood up simultaneously, walking toward the direction where Su Cheng’s voice came from.
Su Cheng’s shelf was located in the innermost part of the entire data room.
He looked at the two approaching individuals, raised his hand, and pointed to the shelf in front of him, saying, “Come and take a look at this.”
Luce randomly pulled out a document from the shelf and flipped through it, and his face showed an expression of astonishment.
“This is…”
Su Cheng nodded, “Exactly, these are all exorcism records.”
He scratched his head, his face showing a hesitant expression, “How should I say it? I’m not sure what these represent, but I always feel that these things don’t match here. Take a look; maybe you’ll find some clues… probably.”
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, gazing at the shelf in front of him, and said, “It’s not entirely out of place.”
“What do you mean?” Luce turned his head to look.
“The Ping An Asylum we are in now is strongly related to Catholicism, isn’t it?”
Whether it was the architectural style of the hospital or the prominently displayed crosses inside the buildings, as well as the aversion of the attendants to the disease of “sexual perversion,” it could all be seen that the overall atmosphere of this Ping An Asylum was closely related to the Catholicism of the last century.
“For a long time, people believed that the essence of mental illness was demonic possession, so naturally, exorcism rituals were performed on patients…”
In that era dominated by theology and medicine, humanity’s understanding of the brain was still in a chaotic state, and medical surgeries and theological exorcisms often progressed side by side.
Although these two methods seemed contradictory, they were indeed in the same temporal context.
Su Cheng nodded somewhat dejectedly, “I see.”
Soon, the group searched through the entire data room. Due to the absence of a timeline, the most valuable information was challenging to organize completely. Like scattered broken beads, it was challenging to find a suitable logical chain to string them all together. Wen Jianyan had some vague guesses in his mind, but most of these guesses lacked sufficient reliable evidence, and he couldn’t entirely clarify all the doubts.
He contemplated for a few seconds and said, “Let’s go; let’s check the dean’s office.”
The group left the data room and arrived at the dean’s office.
As expected, the dean’s office was empty.
The spacious room had a desk and bookshelves, half filled with books related to mental illness treatment and the other half with theological books. A large cross hung on the wall.
Clearly, the dean of the Ping An Asylum was a devout person with strong faith.
Wen Jianyan and Luce each activated the “Hand of Guidance.” Following the guidance of the items, Wen Jianyan found a secret compartment on the bookshelf. Opening it, a cross appeared before him.
Luce, on the other hand, found a Bible in the drawer of the desk.
Both were ordinary-level hidden items, unable to be brought into the next instance as props. They could only increase exploration and collection points, with no real value in terms of dividing rewards.
“…”
The two looked at each other.
They didn’t expect that in what should be the core dean’s office of the entire Ping An Asylum, there wasn’t even a difficult-level item. It seemed they had wasted their serious discussion just now about “how to allocate items.”
“Having something is better than nothing.” Wen Jianyan shrugged and pocketed the cross.
Luce smiled bitterly and said, “True.”
At this moment, the familiar sound of the bell rang again: “Dang-dang-dang.”
Clear and prolonged, echoing in everyone’s ears.
Even though they hadn’t left this floor yet, everyone couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, slightly relaxing their tense nerves.
Anyway, the bell signaled the transition between the real and inner worlds.
Although it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be new dangers in the real world, at least they didn’t have to worry about being pulled into the mental world of some high-risk patient at any moment.
“Phew…”
Luce let out a long breath, turning to Wen Jianyan, “Great, this should mean we can leave—”
The following words got stuck in his throat.
The young man in front of him suddenly took a sharp breath, as if struck by lightning. He stood still, staring blankly ahead with his amber eyes slightly widened, looking somewhat trance-like.
“Hey,” Su Cheng, who was beside them, also noticed Wen Jianyan’s anomaly. He frowned and waved his hand in front of him, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Wen Jianyan seemed to be brought back by his voice and suddenly came to his senses.
He looked sharply at Su Cheng in front of him and said, “I understand!”
Su Cheng: “???”
Huh?
What do you understand?
“I know why there’s not even a difficult-level item in the dean’s office,” Wen Jianyan’s eyes gleamed, speaking rapidly, “We’ve always thought this is the core point of the entire instance. After all, it has the dean’s office and the data room. Logically, this should be the place closest to the core secret of the entire instance, right?”
“…Yes, right.” The few people looked at each other and nodded.
It was obvious.
In instances like an aslum, the exploration values of different areas were entirely different. Areas like the dean’s office and data room, accessible only by high-ranking personnel, should be the most precious and have the highest exploration value. They were probably the core areas of the entire instance.
Wen Jianyan initially thought the same way.
After all, he had just experienced the Fantasy Amusement Park instance, where the director’s office was a gateway connecting two worlds, and the park rules were a crucial part of the core secret.
However, this was the opposite at the Ping An Asylum.
Wen Jianyan pointed to the sky and said, “We all know that the bell ringing signifies the transition between the real and inner worlds, but have you ever thought about where the bell sound is coming from?”
The others were stunned.
Since entering this instance, the bell had always been present, and they had treated it as part of the instance mechanism, like a school bell for changing classes. They had never deeply considered the question Wen Jianyan just raised.
…Where was it coming from?
Before the others could start pondering, Wen Jianyan turned to Luce:
“I remember you telling me before. People who die in the inner world also die in the real world, and the attendants carry their bodies to the courtyard.”
“Do you remember what’s in the courtyard?”
Su Cheng and the others, like Wen Jianyan just now, took a sharp breath and said, “The chapel!!!”
On the map, the entire Ping An Asylum was semi-circular, with the two wings on the east and west sides surrounding the courtyard—while in the courtyard, there was a chapel.
“The bell sound is coming from there!” Wen Jianyan exclaimed.
Wen Jianyan snapped his fingers, appreciatively winking at him:
“Bingo.”
As an atheist without faith, they easily overlooked the strong religious atmosphere in various details of the Ping An Asylum instance.
The dean’s office lacked items above the ordinary level, and the data room lacked crucial clues.
All of this had an explanation.
In other words, the core element in this instance wasn’t the familiar “human experiments,” so the nearest place to the core wasn’t here.
But in the courtyard.
In the chapel.
“So, that’s where we need to go next,” Wen Jianyan said solemnly.
Chapter 163: Where is the real core?
Inside the data room.
The cold light flickered overhead as neatly arranged iron shelves filled with data extended into the distance. The air was filled with the scent of dust and aged pages.
Wen Jianyan ran in the direction of Blond.
Soon, the other party’s dazzling blond hair appeared between the gaps of the shelves.
“You found the experiment records?” Wen Jianyan asked urgently.
“Yeah.”
Blond nodded vigorously, handed the folder in his hand to Wen Jianyan, and then pointed to a whole row of shelves in front of him: “I found them from here.”
Wen Jianyan lowered his head to look at the folder handed to him by Blond.
Here, records of experiments primarily involving “prefrontal lobectomy” as a major surgical procedure for therapeutic methods were documented. It was evident that the patients “voluntarily” participating in such experiments were from the Ping An Asylum.
However, these experiment records were confined to the “normal” surgical scope. Although the methods were outdated and cruel, they were, in a sense, products of the times, and there was a significant difference from the “flesh membrane” they had seen in the laboratory before.
At this moment, Luce also ran over from nearby: “Did you find the information related to the laboratory?”
Wen Jianyan nodded: “Probably.”
He pointed to the whole shelf of data in front of him: “According to the classification pattern of most data rooms, the data nearby should be related to the experiment records. I’ll start searching from here, and you start from there, alright?”
“Okay.”
Luce had no objections.
There were enough people here, so Su Cheng and the other members of Luce’s team didn’t come over. They continued to scatter, trying to find more clues. After all, this way, the efficiency would be higher.
Wen Jianyan turned back, patted Blond’s shoulder, and said, “You did well.”
Indeed, when the core goal was to find people or explore decryption, having a teammate with a vision talent in the party did offer a significant advantage in an instance.
Blond chuckled twice, subconsciously raising his hand to touch the back of his head, and a shy expression appeared on his face.
Regardless of the team, his mission was always to “find.”
Whether it was searching for the faces of mission targets or looking for possible clues, the specific operations were the same. This was his expertise and the chip he relied on to survive. Thanks to this useful talent, he could barely survive until now.
But for some reason…
Now, in this situation, it was far more satisfying than before.
Regardless of which team he was on, Blond would exert all his efforts to prove his usefulness. If he was deemed useless, he would be abandoned, and he didn’t want to die.
However, from some point on, the reason he used his ability had changed.
From out of fear of being abandoned…
To genuinely eager to help.
It always felt like his ability had been endowed with more value.
Blond lifted his eyes and looked at Wen Jianyan’s profile. The young man in front of him was lowering his head, searching for something on the iron shelves, with his side face partially hidden in the shadows cast by the shelves, appearing exceptionally focused.
“…”
He couldn’t help but be a little dazed.
Before this instance, Blond was still indecisive due to cowardice. He dared not actively propose leaving his current organization, but he still longed for the guild that Wen Jianyan mentioned, which had not yet been established. However, now…
Blond suddenly felt that even if he offended that organization, it probably wouldn’t matter.
This guy should be like he was just now; even if his palm was dripping with fresh blood, he would still firmly hold onto his unconscious teammate’s body and bring him to a safe place.
Seemingly sensing Blond’s gaze, Wen Jianyan turned his head to look.
“Nothing to do?”
Wen Jianyan said coldly, “Then go to another place to find clues. If you find anything, let me know.”
Blond: “…”
Give me back my touched feelings!
He nodded dejectedly, turned around, and walked toward another shelf.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Hahaha, laughing to death. Is it an illusion? I seem to see a shattered teenage heart.]
[Be more spirited, Blond! Recognize this guy’s exploitative nature as soon as possible!]
[Whoa! Whoa! Blond: From today on, I am a heartless telescope1
The rustling sound of flipping pages echoed in the silent data room.
Wen Jianyan lowered his head, scanning the experimental data in front of him at a glance.
Although these experimental data had no date markings, they seemed to be arranged in chronological order. In some experimental data with lower risks and harms, the names of some patients would repeatedly appear. However, in experiments with high risks or those seemingly lethal at first glance, the names of patients would disappear completely and never reappear in any subsequent data.
Most of these experiments were cruel and inhumane.
In addition to the prefrontal lobe removal surgery, there were also hydrotherapies, electric shocks, and some cruel methods he had only seen in movies or books before.
There were even extreme cases, such as brain transplants.
Even so, these experiments did not exceed the realm of “reality.”
From a modern perspective, these experiments were dangerous and irresponsible. However, it could not be denied that all these methods had actually appeared in human history.
This brought Wen Jianyan an extreme sense of disconnection.
After all, what he had seen in the laboratory before, the “flesh membrane,” could not be linked to “reality.” Compared to the cruelty artificially created by humans, it seemed more like a creature that would only appear in horror movies.
In other words, besides these, there should be more experimental records that have not been found.
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes thoughtfully and put back the data he had just flipped through on the shelf.
At this moment, Luce at the other end of the shelf suddenly spoke, “Hey, take a look. Isn’t this the doctor who took you away?”
Wen Jianyan walked over and looked at the folder in the other person’s hand.
On the list of doctors for one of the treatment surgeries, there was a familiar name: Dr. A. Reese.
Wen Jianyan nodded, “Yes.” The stolen card he had contained the same name.
Including the surgeries he had previously come across, he also saw the doctor’s signature. Although Dr. Reese looked very young, his tenure at the Ping An Asylum was quite old. From the beginning, which Wen Jianyan was responsible for, to the end, which Luce handled, the doctor’s name appeared.
Luce sighed, “Too bad. I was hoping to find his full name in these records.”
As he spoke, he put the folder back on the shelf. “But thinking about it, if tasks were that easy to complete, the difficulty wouldn’t be advanced.”
Wen Jianyan nodded in agreement.
Obviously, Reese was the surname, and “A” was the abbreviation for the first name. Suddenly, Wen Jianyan seemed to think of something, involuntarily freezing for a moment, his actions suspended in midair.
Come to think of it, in all the previous missions related to high-risk patients’ real names, when the system determined completion, he had only learned the “first” name and not the “last” name.
And in all these experiment records, all the patients’ names were represented by initials, with only surnames not being abbreviated…
Wen Jianyan widened his eyes slightly.
He seemed to realize something, suddenly turned around, and at the fastest speed, began searching through the experimental data he had just flipped through from behind.
Edward, first letter “E.”
Niel and Lore, first letters “N” and “L.”
Mars, first letter “M.”
Through these initials and his understanding of these people from the previous encounters–
Edward had schizophrenia and delusional tendencies.
Niel Lore had multiple personalities.
Mars had antisocial and violent tendencies.
Based on this information, Wen Jianyan quickly narrowed down the area in the data he had previously flipped through, selecting the experimental records most likely related to these high-risk patients.
Looking at the densely packed and even shocking experimental data spread on the floor, Wen Jianyan fell into silence.
Clearly, just like Dr. A. Reese, these names had run through the entire therapeutic history of the Ping An Asylum.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Wow…]
[Although there have been many anchors exploring the data room, it’s the first time I’ve seen someone systematically organize the experiments and surgical records of those high-risk patients… After all, these high-risk individuals are too dangerous. Basically, encountering them is almost a life-and-death situation. Few people can touch them one by one like the anchor did and even extract their real names from them…]
[Yes, if we don’t come into contact with those high-risk individuals, understand their symptoms, and know their real names, it’s impossible to find their treatment records in these countless scrolls. Even if we find the data room, it’s useless.]
[Wow wow, I’m getting excited now! It feels like the anchor is not far from the main plot! Looking forward to it! (100 reward points)]
Luce leaned over, staring at the cases arranged on the ground, his face showing an astonished expression.
“This… isn’t this too much?”
Wen Jianyan nodded silently.
He swept through these cases one by one, each representing an experiment carried out under the guise of “treatment,” each one cruel to the extreme. Even if a normal person entered the Ping An Asylum, after undergoing so many “treatments,” they would probably go insane.
He slightly squinted his eyes, tapping his knee joints gently with his bent fingers, revealing a thoughtful expression.
At this moment, Su Cheng’s call came from a distance, “There’s something here that I think you guys should take a look at!”
Wen Jianyan was startled, exchanged a glance with Luce, and then stood up simultaneously, walking toward the direction where Su Cheng’s voice came from.
Su Cheng’s shelf was located in the innermost part of the entire data room.
He looked at the two approaching individuals, raised his hand, and pointed to the shelf in front of him, saying, “Come and take a look at this.”
Luce randomly pulled out a document from the shelf and flipped through it, and his face showed an expression of astonishment.
“This is…”
Su Cheng nodded, “Exactly, these are all exorcism records.”
He scratched his head, his face showing a hesitant expression, “How should I say it? I’m not sure what these represent, but I always feel that these things don’t match here. Take a look; maybe you’ll find some clues… probably.”
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, gazing at the shelf in front of him, and said, “It’s not entirely out of place.”
“What do you mean?” Luce turned his head to look.
“The Ping An Asylum we are in now is strongly related to Catholicism, isn’t it?”
Whether it was the architectural style of the hospital or the prominently displayed crosses inside the buildings, as well as the aversion of the attendants to the disease of “sexual perversion,” it could all be seen that the overall atmosphere of this Ping An Asylum was closely related to the Catholicism of the last century.
“For a long time, people believed that the essence of mental illness was demonic possession, so naturally, exorcism rituals were performed on patients…”
In that era dominated by theology and medicine, humanity’s understanding of the brain was still in a chaotic state, and medical surgeries and theological exorcisms often progressed side by side.
Although these two methods seemed contradictory, they were indeed in the same temporal context.
Su Cheng nodded somewhat dejectedly, “I see.”
Soon, the group searched through the entire data room. Due to the absence of a timeline, the most valuable information was challenging to organize completely. Like scattered broken beads, it was challenging to find a suitable logical chain to string them all together. Wen Jianyan had some vague guesses in his mind, but most of these guesses lacked sufficient reliable evidence, and he couldn’t entirely clarify all the doubts.
He contemplated for a few seconds and said, “Let’s go; let’s check the dean’s office.”
The group left the data room and arrived at the dean’s office.
As expected, the dean’s office was empty.
The spacious room had a desk and bookshelves, half filled with books related to mental illness treatment and the other half with theological books. A large cross hung on the wall.
Clearly, the dean of the Ping An Asylum was a devout person with strong faith.
Wen Jianyan and Luce each activated the “Hand of Guidance.” Following the guidance of the items, Wen Jianyan found a secret compartment on the bookshelf. Opening it, a cross appeared before him.
Luce, on the other hand, found a Bible in the drawer of the desk.
Both were ordinary-level hidden items, unable to be brought into the next instance as props. They could only increase exploration and collection points, with no real value in terms of dividing rewards.
“…”
The two looked at each other.
They didn’t expect that in what should be the core dean’s office of the entire Ping An Asylum, there wasn’t even a difficult-level item. It seemed they had wasted their serious discussion just now about “how to allocate items.”
“Having something is better than nothing.” Wen Jianyan shrugged and pocketed the cross.
Luce smiled bitterly and said, “True.”
At this moment, the familiar sound of the bell rang again: “Dang-dang-dang.”
Clear and prolonged, echoing in everyone’s ears.
Even though they hadn’t left this floor yet, everyone couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, slightly relaxing their tense nerves.
Anyway, the bell signaled the transition between the real and inner worlds.
Although it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be new dangers in the real world, at least they didn’t have to worry about being pulled into the mental world of some high-risk patient at any moment.
“Phew…”
Luce let out a long breath, turning to Wen Jianyan, “Great, this should mean we can leave—”
The following words got stuck in his throat.
The young man in front of him suddenly took a sharp breath, as if struck by lightning. He stood still, staring blankly ahead with his amber eyes slightly widened, looking somewhat trance-like.
“Hey,” Su Cheng, who was beside them, also noticed Wen Jianyan’s anomaly. He frowned and waved his hand in front of him, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Wen Jianyan seemed to be brought back by his voice and suddenly came to his senses.
He looked sharply at Su Cheng in front of him and said, “I understand!”
Su Cheng: “???”
Huh?
What do you understand?
“I know why there’s not even a difficult-level item in the dean’s office,” Wen Jianyan’s eyes gleamed, speaking rapidly, “We’ve always thought this is the core point of the entire instance. After all, it has the dean’s office and the data room. Logically, this should be the place closest to the core secret of the entire instance, right?”
“…Yes, right.” The few people looked at each other and nodded.
It was obvious.
In instances like an aslum, the exploration values of different areas were entirely different. Areas like the dean’s office and data room, accessible only by high-ranking personnel, should be the most precious and have the highest exploration value. They were probably the core areas of the entire instance.
Wen Jianyan initially thought the same way.
After all, he had just experienced the Fantasy Amusement Park instance, where the director’s office was a gateway connecting two worlds, and the park rules were a crucial part of the core secret.
However, this was the opposite at the Ping An Asylum.
Wen Jianyan pointed to the sky and said, “We all know that the bell ringing signifies the transition between the real and inner worlds, but have you ever thought about where the bell sound is coming from?”
The others were stunned.
Since entering this instance, the bell had always been present, and they had treated it as part of the instance mechanism, like a school bell for changing classes. They had never deeply considered the question Wen Jianyan just raised.
…Where was it coming from?
Before the others could start pondering, Wen Jianyan turned to Luce:
“I remember you telling me before. People who die in the inner world also die in the real world, and the attendants carry their bodies to the courtyard.”
“Do you remember what’s in the courtyard?”
Su Cheng and the others, like Wen Jianyan just now, took a sharp breath and said, “The chapel!!!”
On the map, the entire Ping An Asylum was semi-circular, with the two wings on the east and west sides surrounding the courtyard—while in the courtyard, there was a chapel.
“The bell sound is coming from there!” Wen Jianyan exclaimed.
Wen Jianyan snapped his fingers, appreciatively winking at him:
“Bingo.”
As an atheist without faith, they easily overlooked the strong religious atmosphere in various details of the Ping An Asylum instance.
The dean’s office lacked items above the ordinary level, and the data room lacked crucial clues.
All of this had an explanation.
In other words, the core element in this instance wasn’t the familiar “human experiments,” so the nearest place to the core wasn’t here.
But in the courtyard.
In the chapel.
“So, that’s where we need to go next,” Wen Jianyan said solemnly.
