My Healing Games

Chapter 838 The Born Sacrifice Personality

“The selected patients in the annex are all in the detoxification ward. They can only go out during the day. I’ll take you to find them.” The old man is extremely insecure and needs other patients to help him share the fear that comes from the depths of his heart.

"You'd better hurry." The longer you stay in the Black Building, the more dangerous it becomes. To leave, you have to sacrifice the patients. So Han Fei can only rely on the old man as a guide to find some real psychopaths as soon as possible and kill or sacrifice them.

As Han Fei smashed open the doors of the cubicles, he discovered that many of the ward doors had writings engraved on them. Some were curses, some were deductive formulas, some were diaries, and some even had people confessing their love on the ward doors.

"The cubicles and dormitories in the withdrawal center don't have names. To make it easier for patients to distinguish themselves, they will make some marks on their rooms." The old man smashed open several doors, but still couldn't find a single patient. He was starting to panic, fearing that Han Fei would run out of patience and kill him directly.

As he approached the seventh door, the old man heard whispers inside. Thinking it better to sacrifice his friend than himself, he quickly reported to Han Fei: "There's someone in this house! They might be a monster as powerful as you! You'd better be prepared!"

"If you can't speak properly, then shut up." Han Fei also heard the commotion inside. He stared at the moss-covered door and suddenly kicked it open.

The room was filthy and smelly. A man in a tattered hospital gown was supporting himself on one leg, with his hands, face and body pressed tightly against the wall.

The door was violently opened, and the man was startled. He frantically scrambled his hands across the wall, as if trying to climb up the smooth surface.

"There's no stench of corpse or blood, so this person should just be an ordinary patient." Han Fei's eyes showed some disappointment.

"Have you ever smelled the stench of a corpse or the smell of blood?" the old man muttered softly.

Han Fei didn't bother explaining to the old man. He strode into the house, reached out and pressed down on the patient's shoulder: "What's your name? I can take you with me."

The man looked at Han Fei with great fear, supporting himself on one leg as he crawled toward the other side of the wall, as if he couldn't walk normally without the wall.

"Why are you always leaning against the wall?" Han Fei grabbed him, preparing to begin forced treatment.

Starlight shone into his mind, and the man's soul went blank. His pupils rolled around, and finally he stuck out his tongue at Han Fei: "Don't kill me, I'm just a gecko."

"Gecko?" The man was somewhat confused about his own identity.

"Yes, I know I look different from other geckos because my tail was cut off by the doctor. Once my tail grows back, you'll know I wasn't lying to you." The man looked at Han Fei with utmost seriousness, his tone firm.

"Attention player number 0000, you have discovered a special patient - Gecko."

Han Fei couldn't believe that this was a patient he had cured. It seems that the healing personality is not omnipotent, especially when facing patients who are not threatening and are simple and straightforward.

"Then are you willing to leave with me?"

"No, geckos cannot leave the wall."

Han Fei did not kill him; this patient was still ten times worse than the psychopathic killer.

"Excuse me." Han Fei closed the door and glared at the old man. "Is this what you call mental illness?"

"A gecko! Isn't that abnormal enough?" The old man quickly led Han Fei to the door of another room, where the door was covered with various formulas and theories.

Pushing open the door, one sees various deductions and speculations engraved on the walls of the ward, and a large number of manuscript papers scattered on the floor, where a disheveled middle-aged man sits.

"Attention player number 0000! You have discovered a special patient with a precognitive personality—the Prophet."

"Predicting personality?" Han Fei walked to the middle-aged man's side and looked down. The man was drawing various complex patterns on a piece of paper and marking it with a lot of words that Han Fei couldn't understand at all: "What are you researching?"

"Proving the existence of ghosts." The middle-aged man didn't even look up, focusing entirely on his reasoning.

"The disaster has already happened, and ghosts are everywhere. Does this need further proof?"

"Why does one plus one equal two? Can't A plus A equal B?" The middle-aged man still didn't look up: "Mathematics is a world constructed by mathematicians. What is the world we live in constructed like this?"

"Are you trying to explain ghosts with science?" Han Fei was already a little confused; he was just a butcher who was also a part-time doctor and teacher.

"Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind." The middle-aged man tore up the drawing he had made: "Have you heard of Plato's allegory of the cave? Most people live forever in the cave of ignorance, seeing only a small projection outside the cave. What we usually see are just phenomena; the truth is in another world. To know the truth, the soul must turn—from phenomena to ideas."

"Uh..." Han Fei turned his head to look at the old man, who was preparing to sneak away and hadn't heard what the middle-aged man was saying at all.

“We originally lived in darkness. In order to find a home, we lit candles and chased the light, but the more we became obsessed with the light, the more we forgot that our home was in the darkness. As a result, we lost ourselves in the light.” The middle-aged man was saying some very basic things. He quoted a famous philosopher, but he gave the impression of being somewhat eccentric.

"So what conclusion did you reach after thinking about it?"

“Maybe we don’t exist, maybe the ghosts are you and me, maybe there’s an unseen world hidden here.” He lay down on the ground, using a series of eerie drawings as a pillow: “I won’t leave with you, the one who should leave is you.”

"Then you should continue thinking here." Han Fei gave up on treating the middle-aged man, fearing he might affect the man's brain: "Is it really that difficult to find a few patients who can be directly sacrificed with blood?"

After leaving the room where the prophet was, Han Fei scanned all the wards in the rehabilitation center, and one ward caught his attention.

Bloody handprints were imprinted on the wooden door, the viewing glass was smashed, and a cruel dormitory name was crookedly written in the center of the door panel—Chang Wei and the Qi family of thirteen.

"Am I finally going to meet the serial killer?" Han Fei had the blood-red paper figure protecting him. He held the coin in his hand and kicked open the door to the ward.

The door slammed against the wall, and electrical wires were snapped. This was a single-person ward. There was no bed in the room, only a coffin-like structure filled with restraints and a chair used for electric shocks.

"Rude." The broken electric chair slowly turned, revealing a person who, judging from his appearance alone, was abnormal.

He wore a huge knitted skullcap, had a calculator hanging on his chest, and two flashlights hidden at his waist. All the "electronic devices" that patients could access were hidden on his person.

It is unclear whether this is due to frequent electroconvulsive therapy, but he has numerous gruesome wounds on his head, and his muscles are also different from those of ordinary people.

"Generally speaking, electroshock therapy is only needed for people with strong self-harm or suicidal tendencies; people who are extremely excited and agitated and harm others; and people who are unable to tolerate or do not respond to psychotropic drug treatment. It seems I have found the right person this time."

Han Fei put the grieving girl down, tossed a coin in the air, and went inside: "What's your name? Why are you locked up here?"

A faint black mist emanated from the abyss, and Han Fei wore a warm smile, like a doctor caring for his patient.

"I am a top student majoring in computer science from a prestigious university. I started my own business in my sophomore year and came to work as the head of the internet addiction treatment ward at the Third Mental Hospital of Shanghai." The patient in the melon-shaped hat had an air of arrogance and spoke in a cocky manner, with a kind of unruly spirit that was hard for ordinary people to understand: "Don't worry about what I'm called. In the entire internet addiction treatment center, everyone who sees this knitted melon-shaped hat has to bow their heads and call me Master Melon."

"I sense something special about you." Han Fei's smile grew even gentler. As he drew closer, he continued, "Brother Gua, have you ever killed anyone? The kind of innocent person who hasn't done anything wrong, but simply brings you mental pleasure?"

The old man at the door was stunned. What kind of doctor would ask a patient such a question? Which of the two people inside was more seriously ill?
“A lot.” The man in the melon-shaped hat’s expression turned terrifying, his eyes gleaming with barely suppressed excitement. “I kill every night! Sometimes dozens, sometimes hundreds! I feel restless if I don’t kill!”

He became more and more agitated as he spoke, and dark veins bulged on his forehead. He reached up and ripped off his hat, revealing horrific scars all over his head from electric shocks.

"Kill hundreds?" Han Fei did sense the killing intent emanating from the melon-hatted man, but to be honest, it was impossible to detect without careful observation.

"And you?" The man in the melon-shaped hat had originally been fairly handsome, but after receiving treatment here, he had become somewhat frightening: "How many have you killed?"

"I probably only have a dozen or so at most?" Han Fei had already walked up to the man in the melon-shaped hat and stretched out his hand.

Upon hearing Han Fei's reply, the boy in the melon-shaped hat showed no fear; instead, his eyes gleamed with even greater excitement: "Alright! Then you'll come with me from now on! No way! I can't wait any longer!"

He pulled off the calculator hanging around his neck: "Let me show you my signature hero, and let you see my Wan'er in the coffin."

Before he finished speaking, he jumped onto the coffin-like forced withdrawal device and started frantically tapping his fingers, the calculator constantly beeping as it reset to zero.

Considering this is an internet addiction treatment center, Han Fei frowned slightly: "Are you talking about killing hundreds in a game?"

The man in the melon-shaped hat didn't react, but his words terrified the old man at the door, who asked tremblingly, "Could it be that you're not talking about a game?"

"I killed him in the game too." Han Fei smiled and glanced back at the old man, then tossed a coin and pressed down on the old man's head.

"Attention, player number 0000! You have discovered a patient with a disordered personality—the sacrifice chosen by the Dean."

"Chaotic Personality: Disordered, unbalanced, the rare personality that ghosts and monsters love most."

As the starlight of humanity shone into his mind, Han Fei discovered that the man in the melon-skin hat had very few negative emotions; he seemed to be someone who was close to the ghosts.

"Attention player number 0000! You have cured five patients with personality disorders and completed the shrine random quest - Healing Personality. You have received a large amount of experience, your Healing Personality has been strengthened, and you have gained one chance to open your inventory."

"Attention player number 0000! You have triggered the hidden quest at the shrine - Healing the Reason for Existence."

"Mission Requirements: Heal one hundred patients with personality defects. Upon completion of this mission, you will receive a hidden reward from the shrine, which may help you bring out the healed souls and ghosts from the shrine."

The system's prompts were of great help to Han Fei. He had been searching for a suitable offering, and now the offering "placed" in front of him was one personally selected by the dean.

"There's not enough time. I'll borrow your blood and bone for now, and I'll definitely heal you properly later." Han Fei used the opportunity he had just gained to open his inventory and take out the Rebirth Slaughtering Knife: "Daughter of Loss, what should I do next?"

The head nurse's hoarse voice echoed in Han Fei's mind: "Use the blood of the sacrifice to guide the way, run in the direction the blood mist is spreading!"

"Okay." Han Fei stared at the melon-skinned man's veins and swiftly brought down the knife.

(End of this chapter)