Chapter 133: Next Instance ~ |
News of Luo Jin’s predicament hit the ward like a heavy blow, stealing the air from the room. The three women sat in stunned silence as the grim reality settled over them.
“Hold on,” Zhou Xiao Zhen finally blurted out, her voice filled with disbelief, “Didn’t that ‘Wide Sea and Sky’ dude say it’d take like ten years for the whole Yin energy thing to go sideways? Luo Jin hasn’t even been here that long, has he?”
Zhao Lan slouched, her voice barely audible, “He did mention that it depends on how often you jump into instances and how many stamina cards you consume. Luo Jin practically lived in those instances, and he used up stamina cards like there was no tomorrow. Probably more than any of us.”
A shiver ran down Zhou Xiao Zhen’s spine, fear replacing her usual confidence. “So, what now? We’ve used a lot of those cards too. Are we doomed?”
Yu Xiao, with her chin resting on her clasped hands, strands of hair falling like a curtain around her face, spoke softly, “We’re fine for now. No need to panic just yet. At least the ward is safe.”
“Safe, maybe,” Zhou Xiao Zhen countered, “but we still need to earn those points, and that means diving headfirst into those nightmare instances.”
Yu Xiao’s head shot up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “There’s another way. I can sell talismans. Points without the whole life-or-death gamble.”
Zhao Lan’s worried gaze met Yu Xiao’s, a frown appearing on her forehead. “But you have that job at the hospital, remember? You have to get your paperwork stamped at St. Elizabeth’s and go through those assessment challenges in the instances.”
Yu Xiao’s stomach churned. Zhao Lan hit the nail on the head. She could handle earning points, but her job?
The other women exchanged knowing glances. Yu Xiao had expressed what they were all feeling. Just when they thought they had found a lifeline, it turned out to be a complicated mess.
Zhao Lan reached out and squeezed Yu Xiao’s hand, her voice gentle but determined. “You have to quit that job. Seriously. With your talisman skills, you can earn points without stepping foot in those eerie instances.”
Yu Xiao bit her lip, her mind racing. Yes, she could survive, but what about everyone else? How many patients in the six hospitals had the ability, not to mention the resources, to produce talismans?
“But what about those who can’t?” Yu Xiao’s voice was barely a whisper. “Are they just stuck here?”
Zhao Lan paused, her brow furrowed in deep thought. “Not necessarily. Remember, ‘Wide Sea and Sky’ said it takes time for the Yin energy to reach its peak. Maybe, just maybe, if they can gather enough points before it’s too late, they can still escape from this place.”
A glimmer of hope, but a fragile one. Luo Jin was a perfect example. He had struggled to earn points like a madman, both inside and outside the instances, and yet… he was still here.
**
Lu Xu’s eyes widened as he stared at his friend. “Are you going to enter another instance? Are you serious? Didn’t you hear what Yu Xiao just said?”
Luo Jin sat calmly, holding a teacup in his hands, absentmindedly stroking the rim with his long fingers. “What’s the alternative then?” he asked, his voice as calm as a summer breeze.
Lu Xu’s confusion was evident. “What do you mean?”
Luo Jin maintained his unwavering gaze. “Just staying in this hospital room, slowly depleting our accumulated points, bit by agonizing bit? We’ll still have to clear the instance in the end.”
Lu Xu’s jaw dropped, his mind spinning. Luo Jin continued in a detached tone, “Why not keep clearing instances until I completely lose my grip on reality or accumulate enough points to escape this place?”
**
Gulp~.
- (“骨碌” is an onomatopoeic word used to describe the sound of swallowing.)
— Thud, thud, thud.
A cheerful voice chimed in, “Want to buy some food? We’ve got brain sandwiches today!”
Wide Sea and Sky’s mouth watered in anticipation, and before he knew it, he was standing by the door, his hand reaching for the handle. The aroma was almost overwhelming, and whatever was outside was beckoning him like a seductress.
“Scram!” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Get lost!”
The cart rolled away, the delivery staff’s humming fading into the distance. When he first entered the hospital, he couldn’t smell anything inside the room, and the delivery staff never hummed. But over the years, the humming had become a familiar, albeit unsettling, companion.
He retreated back to bed, wrapping himself tightly in the blankets like a cocoon. He was terrified that one day he would lose control and fling open the door, stepping out of the hospital room and into the unknown. A premonition whispered in his ear: once he stepped out, there would be no turning back.
**
As they huddled in the hospital ward, Yu Xiao and her companions came to an agreement: they still had time to spare. Luo Jin’s frequency of instance-hopping was just as fast as theirs, and his strange symptoms only appeared after years of hopping. So, they concluded that they didn’t need to rush against time yet. Their goal was to accumulate as many points as possible within this limited time frame.
The trio examined their accounts. Yu Xiao had already amassed over a thousand points from her previous instance adventure. This time, she had successfully sold ten talismans before leaving quickly, earning an additional twenty-two points.
In the past few days, she had sold some talismans and function cards, with the latter fetching a generous thirty points each. She had managed to sell five of them, bringing her total to a respectable 1272 points.
Zhao Lan was behind with 80 points, while Zhou Xiao Zhen had 88. On average, each of them needed over 1825 points to escape from the Horror Hospital. The trio was still lacking a staggering four thousand points. Relying solely on function cards wouldn’t suffice, especially since some single-use items like the Bad Luck Card were more challenging to sell.
The solution, it seemed, resided in selling more talismans. After evaluating the numbers, Yu Xiao realised that function cards came with risks, whereas talismans were a safer option. She revisited the forum post that taught her how to draw talismans, comparing it to the store’s selection. To her surprise, the store’s inventory was ridiculously incomplete – it lacked many of the varieties mentioned in the forum post.
Upon further analysis, Yu Xiao understood that while the store offered a wide range of talismans, many of them were useless to the patients. The talismans described in the forum post, however, were the real deal – practical, effective, and desperately needed. Think Thunder-Striking or Curse-Dispelling talismans, not Rain-Summoning or Fire-Warding ones.
Let’s face it: energy was limited, and drawing talismans was primarily for personal gain or sale. Unless one was a dedicated enthusiast, no one would waste valuable resources on crafting talismans that had no practical use and couldn’t be sold.
Even before checking into the sixth hospital, Yu Xiao had doodled her first talisman. So far, her repertoire consisted of three greatest hits: the zap-tastic “Thunder-Striking Ghost Repelling Talisman,” the handy-dandy “Healing Crisis Talisman,” and the ever-reliable “Guardian Talisman.” Honestly, they were like the Swiss Army knife of the supernatural world.
She’d found each one ridiculously useful – zapping ghosts, patching up boo-boos, and playing superhero. Why mess with a winning formula, right? So, she hadn’t bothered expanding her collection for a while.
But here she was, scrolling through the forum again, and the same old talismans were starting to feel as exciting as watching paint dry. No magic wands, no invisibility cloaks, not even a coupon for a free ghost-repelling spray. Talk about a snoozefest.
Yu Xiao decided to take a peek at the in-game store’s talisman section, hoping for something – anything – to spice things up. Instead, she found herself staring at the “Fox-Charming Talisman” and the “Birth-Assisting Talisman.”
“Seriously?” she muttered, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Who wants to play matchmaker or deliver babies?”
And then there were the talismans with functions so cryptic, they could have been written in invisible ink. No explanations, no instructions, just a bunch of squiggly lines. As if drawing talismans was as easy as doodling stick figures! Each one required a special technique, with more twists and turns than a haunted house hallway.
Yu Xiao had only managed to master her current collection thanks to a handy-dandy tutorial she’d found online. But figuring out a new talisman on her own? That was about as likely as a ghost taking up knitting.
“If only that talisman guru from the fourth ward was in our neck of the woods,” she sighed, wishing she had a magical tutor on speed dial.
Zhao Lan, her partner in (paranormal) crime, noticed Yu Xiao’s gloomy aura and decided to investigate. Once she heard the whole saga, she offered a glimmer of hope. “Maybe Luo Jin and his crew know someone who knows someone?”
Yu Xiao raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting I beg Luo Jin for a phone number?”
“Why not?” Zhao Lan shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
It wasn’t the worst idea Yu Xiao had ever heard, so she decided to give Luo Jin a ring.
“Nope, don’t know him,” Luo Jin answered, bursting her hope bubble.
Yu Xiao was baffled. “How is that even possible? Your network is practically bigger than the internet!”
“Trust me, we’ve tried to track him down too,” Luo Jin explained. “The guy’s like a ninja – no info on the forum, never shows his face. We eventually gave up.”
Well, that was just fantastic. Luo Jin’s words hit Yu Xiao like a rogue ice cream truck on a scorching summer day – totally unexpected and leaving a weird aftertaste.
He didn’t ask Yu Xiao how she knew about the master in the fourth hospital, nor did he ask what she wanted with him. Nope, he simply dropped a bomb bigger than a triple-scoop sundae before hanging up: “I’m diving into the instance tomorrow morning.”
“Hold up, what? Why?” Yu Xiao’s voice rose in protest. “Didn’t we talk about this whole ‘too many instances are bad for your health’ thing?”
Luo Jin fell silent for a moment before responding, “I need the points.”
Now, Yu Xiao knew Luo Jin wasn’t exactly the stand-up comedian type, but this time, he let out a laugh drier than burnt toast, his voice a tangled mess of emotions. “I’ve already accumulated quite a few points. Gathering a few more should be enough to live until I’m seventy.”
The line fell silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the phone. Then, Luo Jin hung up, leaving Yu Xiao feeling like she’d been punched in the gut.
Just as Yu Xiao was feeling down, Gluttony called her.
Now, Yu Xiao wasn’t exactly in the mood for chit-chat, but she answered anyway, her voice dripping with more frustration than a melting popsicle. “What do you want, Gluttony?”
Gluttony’s voice was as bright as a sunny day. “My friend, you sound really down.”
Yu Xiao rolled her eyes. “Nope. I’ll hang up.”
“Hold your horses,” Gluttony chirped. “Is that how you treat all your buddies?”
Yu Xiao stayed silent, ready to hit that end call button, but Gluttony ploughed on. “I’ve got some news. They’re not going to ambush you in the next instance.”
Yu Xiao’s surprise was genuine. “Really? Did those attending doctors suddenly grow a conscience and realise I’m innocent?”
Gluttony’s chuckle was like a rusty gate. “Not quite. Seems your next instance is a real doozy, a one-way ticket to Splitsville. They’re just gonna wait for the one after.”
Yu Xiao’s confusion was like a tangled web. “What kind of instance are we talking about here?”
“Let’s just say the kind that even those guys are too chicken to step in.”
Yu Xiao’s curiosity was piqued. “What’s so dangerous about it?”
Gluttony’s response was a cryptic “Ha ha, see you later, my friend~” before the line went dead.
Yu Xiao hesitated, her mind racing, before turning to Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which one do you want to hear?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen slumped against the bed, her voice filled with resignation. “Bad news, I suppose. I prefer to suffer first and enjoy later, anyway.”
Zhao Lan raised an eyebrow, clearly feeling listless. “Can we skip the bad news for once? Today has been a never-ending parade of awful.”
Yu Xiao flashed a wry smile. “Alright, then. The good news is that the Avengers won’t be waiting for us in the next copy. No ambushes, no drama.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen’s pout deepened. “That’s supposed to be good news? I was already in a funk, and now I’m deprived of the pleasure of watching them squirm. What’s the catch?”
Yu Xiao’s smile twisted into a grimace. “The bad news is that the next copy is a death trap. Even the attending doctor is spooked, which is why they’re temporarily calling off the ambush.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen’s legs bounced wildly on the bed, her “Aaaaahhh~” echoing through the room.
This wasn’t just a balancing act of good and bad news – it was a catastrophic landslide of bad.
Zhao Lan absentmindedly threaded her fingers through her no-longer-just-inches-long hair as she asked, “You’re still going to dive into the next instance, aren’t you?”
Yu Xiao let out a sigh that spoke volumes. “I have to… keep going. The nickname change hasn’t really made an impact, and my talismans are collecting dust. I need to get back into the copy to sell some merchandise.”
She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Or maybe I should go solo this time.”
Before the words had fully left her lips, Zhou Xiao Zhen sprang up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box, but Zhao Lan’s angry retort cut first. “Do you even know what you’re saying?! Are we just your fair-weather friends, only looking out for ourselves when things get tough?”
“I didn’t…”
“Exactly, what did you say?” Zhou Xiao Zhen patted Zhao Lan’s back and turned to Yu Xiao. “You should apologise to Misty right away.”
Zhao Lan glared at Yu Xiao, pulled out her phone, and directly booked a treatment instance for the next day.
Yu Xiao’s face twisted into a knot of guilt and frustration, resembling a pretzel that had been sat on.
Zhao Lan’s face remained cold, her voice firm. “Let’s get one thing straight, that kind of talk? Not happening again.”
“…”
Zhou Xiao Zhen walked over and poked Yu Xiao’s shoulder, “Earth to Smiley? Are you with us? Or are you just too touched by Misty’s concern to speak?”
Yu Xiao’s face contorted further, resembling a Picasso painting. “I just said I wanted a week off, and now… I’ll have to go into the instance tomorrow, won’t I?”
“…”
A flush of red, as vibrant as a stop sign, crept up Zhao Lan’s neck and onto her face. It was a rare sight, this embarrassment, and Zhou Xiao Zhen nearly choked on her own laughter. The sound, like a chorus of wind chimes on a breezy day, was contagious. Soon, Yu Xiao and Zhao Lan were exchanging glances and erupting into giggles, the tension melting away.
The heavy atmosphere in the hospital room dissipated, and Nightmare, who had been patiently waiting for the laughter to subside, finally piped up. “Take me with you.”
Yu Xiao waved her hand. “Next time, for sure.”
The prospect of diving back into the instance loomed, so the trio decided to turn in early. As the lights dimmed, Nightmare, with the stealth of a ninja cat, crept onto Yu Xiao’s bed and curled up at her feet. She felt the weight settle, but said nothing, simply rolling over and drifting off to sleep.
**
Luo Jin and Lu Xu had also booked treatment instances for the following day. However, that night, Lu Xu found himself unable to sleep. Insomnia was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, yet tonight, his mind was filled with worry and racing thoughts.
Earlier, Yu Xiao had shared some unsettling news that weighed heavily on Lu Xu. It felt like a dark cloud hanging over his thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel fear as well. He and Luo Jin were always a team, inseparable in their endeavours. If Luo Jin was experiencing disturbing dreams, was Lu Xu not far behind?
Restless, Lu Xu tossed and turned on the mattress, unable to find peace. Eventually, the gentle embrace of sleep began to call him. He lay still, surrendering to its arrival.
In that hazy state between wakefulness and slumber, Lu Xu felt a prickling sensation, alerting him that something was wrong.
— ‘Plop!’
A single drop of water landed right on his forehead, jolting Lu Xu awake. Was there a leak in the ward? It seemed unlikely.
Opening his eyes, he was greeted by a chilling sight. A shadowy figure stood silently beside his bed, its presence eerie and unsettling. How long had it been lurking there in the darkness?
“Agh!” Lu Xu shrieked, startled, and scrambled backwards like a frightened cat. Trembling, he reached for a protective talisman, using his phone’s torch to illuminate the scene. To his surprise, the figure turned out to be Luo Jin.
“Old Luo?!” Lu Xu exclaimed, his voice a mixture of shock and annoyance. “What on earth are you doing?”
- (老骆 (lǎo Luò) – Old Luo; a colloquial way of addressing Luo Jin, indicating familiarity and possibly respect.)
Luo Jin swiped a hand across his mouth, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Seeing him seemingly back to his senses, Lu Xu’s anxiety eased slightly. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “What the heck just happened?”
Luo Jin himself was bewildered, unable to recall the dream that had just gripped him. All he could recall was a scent, intoxicating and delicious, like the best damn thing he’d ever sniffed.
He turned wordlessly and returned to his own bed. Lu Xu, still shaken, followed and crouched beside him, his gaze fixed on his friend.
“Seriously, dude,” Lu Xu pressed, “what was that all about?”
Luo Jin met Lu Xu’s eyes, a heavy silence hanging between them. This was his best mate, his partner in crime, their friendship forged in the fires of countless bizarre adventures. Since they’d landed in this crazy Fourth Hospital, they’d been inseparable, tackling every freaky challenge together.
“From now on, I’ll sleep in the bathroom,” Luo Jin declared.
“Say what now?”
“I’ll sleep in the bathroom,” Luo Jin repeated, his gaze falling upon his own slender, pale hands like they belonged to a stranger. “I feel like things are getting worse. I’m not even sure if this was the first time… Lu Xu, when I’m asleep, I’m a danger to you. Just now… I looked at you, and all I could think was how tasty you’d be.”
Lu Xu’s breath hitched in his throat, a wave of desolation washing over him. He had witnessed countless deaths within the hospital walls, yet the thought of losing his closest friend was unbearable.
“Lock the bathroom door from the inside,” Luo Jin instructed, rising to his feet and beginning to roll up his bedding. “And don’t sleep too soundly, stay alert. Hang a bell on the bathroom door, so you’ll hear if it moves…”
His voice trailed off as he noticed the lack of response. Turning around, he found Lu Xu with his head bowed, the phone light casting an eerie, yet somehow comical, glow upon his face. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, his shirt damp with tears.
A vein throbbed on Luo Jin’s forehead as he continued rolling up his bedding.
“Look, this isn’t just for you,” he explained. “We’ve been through thick and thin together in these instances. Even if you’re doing better than me, it can’t be by much. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll be the one eyeing me up for a midnight snack. Sleeping separately is the best option for both of us…”
Lu Xu stood up, determination gleaming in his eyes. “I’ll sleep in the bathroom.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Luo Jin scoffed.
Without another word, Lu Xu snatched the bedding from Luo Jin’s hands and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.
“Old Luo, lock the door!” he yelled from inside.
Luo Jin rolled his eyes, exasperated. “If I lock the door, what’s to stop me from opening it again in my sleep?”
“…Right, good point,” came Lu Xu’s muffled reply. A moment later, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoed from the bathroom.
“Don’t you need a pillow?” Luo Jin called out.
Lu Xu hesitated. He’d initially planned to forgo the pillow, but the truth was, he couldn’t sleep a wink without one. He’d be tossing and turning all night.
With a sigh, he started to open the door again.
Luo Jin handed him the pillow, his face etched with a frown. “What if I need the bathroom in the middle of the night?”
Lu Xu’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “Then I guess you’d better avoid drinking water before bed.”
**
The next morning, Yu Xiao and the others were up bright and early, getting ready for the day ahead.
Nightmare, nestled snugly in the blankets, peered up at Yu Xiao with pleading eyes. “Take me with you.”
“Next time, for sure.”
Zhao Lan slipped on her coat, her eyes scanning the room with a hint of concern. “This instance is too risky; we need to prep like pros. Let’s bring extra functional cards, like that ‘Loving Care’ one, just in case things go sideways.”
Yu Xiao’s brow furrowed, her gaze drifting off. “What kind of instance would spook even the attending doctor?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen popped a spicy strip into her mouth, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it because of all the ghosts?”
Zhao Lan snorted. “Ordinary ghosts are no match for the attending doctor. It’s not like they’re gonna duke it out in the hospital hallway. Unless, of course, it’s a brainless ghost like that former hospital director. Now, that’s a whole different story.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. “A brainless ghost in an instance? That’s freaky. But if it’s brainless, would a ‘Loving Care’ card even work?”
Yu Xiao’s face scrunched up in thought. If the ‘Loving Care’ card was useless, then rest of ‘Wide Sea and Sky’ cards would be too. Not exactly the most reassuring thought.
“If all else fails…” Yu Xiao ventured, “we have those ‘Temporary Ghost Transformation’ cards. Maybe we can blend in by turning into ghosts ourselves?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen’s face lit up. “Exactly! I almost forgot I still have an unused ‘Temporary Ghost Transformation’ card.”
Just then, the 8 pm reminder tone chimed in, punctuating their conversation.
“Ding!”
ARC9 ☆ Time Hospital ~ (c133~146)The three of them stumbled, their vision blurring for a moment. When they opened their eyes again, they found themselves in a long, eerie corridor.
Déjà vu washed over Yu Xiao. This place looked uncannily like the Sage Hospital – same endless corridor, same row of hospital rooms.
Apart from their little trio, there were three men and one woman. The men were dressed in identical outfits, while the woman sported short hair, a dull expression, and a faintly bleary-eyed look, as if she’d pulled an all-nighter.
“Hey there!” Zhou Xiao Zhen was the first to greet them, “We three are from Sixth Hospital. I’m Zhou Xiao Zhen, she’s Zhao Lan, and she’s Yu Xiao.”
Among the three men, the one with the longest hair and a beard introduced himself, “I’m Feng Jun (冯君) from Third Hospital.”
- 冯 (Féng): This surname can be associated with the meaning of “gallop” or “journey by horse” as it is historically related to riding.
- 君 (Jūn): As a given name, it means “ruler” or “monarch,” but it can also convey the sense of “gentleman” or “sovereign.”
- So, 冯君 (Féng Jūn) could be interpreted as “a sovereign’s journey” or “gentleman on horseback.”
- 彭 (Péng): This surname is often associated with grandeur and vastness.
- 晨 (Chén): As a given name, it means “morning” or “daybreak,” symbolising the start of a new day.
- Hence, 彭晨 (Péng Chén) might be translated as “vast morning” or “grand daybreak,” suggesting the majesty of the early day.
- 鹿 (Lù): The surname means “deer,” symbolising grace and beauty in Chinese culture.
- 朝 (Cháo): This given name means “morning” or “dynasty,” indicating a new beginning or a connection to a royal lineage.
- Thus, 鹿朝 (Lù Cháo) could be seen as “morning deer” or “deer of the dynasty,” evoking images of elegance and renewal.
She spoke in a slightly husky voice, “Third Hospital, Wei Ran (卫然).”
- 卫 (Wèi): The surname can mean “guard” or “protect,” often related to defence and safety.
- 然 (Rán): This given name signifies “correct” or “so,” but it can also imply “nature” or “natural.”
- Therefore, 卫然 (Wèi Rán) could be interpreted as “natural guard” or “rightly protected,” reflecting a sense of security and correctness.
Just then, a door creaked open behind them, and they turned to see a man in a white coat, with silver hair and eyebrows that looked like they were painted on, walking out from behind the door.
“Good morning,” he said, stopping five paces away from them. “Welcome to Time Hospital. I’m your attending doctor, Shi Guang (时光).”
- 时” (Shí): This character suggests the concept of time or era, which can imply moments, phases, or periods in one’s life.
- “光” (Guāng): This character represents light or glory, often associated with brightness, hope, or brilliance.
- When combined, “时光” (Shíguāng) could be poetically interpreted as “the glorious times” or “the era of light,” reflecting a period filled with memorable moments and shining achievements.
After he finished speaking, he turned and walked away at a leisurely pace, leaving only the seven patients behind. The door at the end of the corridor closed, leaving them to stare at each other in confusion.
Zhou Xiao Zhen hated reading comprehension exercises, “What was he blabbering about just now?”
Zhao Lan gazed at the seven doors, lost in thought, “Is he implying that we should each choose a door, since we all have our own paths?”
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