Chapter 624

"As I said, I'm one of the twins—except my brother was never born. He died inside my mother's womb, strangled by my own umbilical cord. Only I was born, yet I'm still a natural medium."

"From the moment I was born, I could see those strange things. But unlike your sisters, I wasn't kind. When I realized my ability, I didn't feel fear—I wanted to learn more, to uncover the secrets behind it."

"During my studies, I killed my pet cat, nearly killed my own father, and caused the deaths of everyone in a theater due to a mistake—along with several friends and countless innocent people."

Constantine spoke casually, but Angela kept staring at him, the female officer unable to understand how this man could be so cold.

"Don't look at me like that. I know I'm not a good man—but I had no choice." Constantine flicked ash from his cigarette. "I told you, it's a curse. On my twenty-seventh birthday, a demon came knocking."

Angela opened her mouth as if to ask why he was still alive, but before she could speak, Constantine answered: "I know what you're going to ask. The demon who came for me—I drained all its power and sent it crawling back to hell. I'm sure its companions down there will give it a warm welcome."

"Do you understand now? I'm not like your sister. That's why I'm alive—and she's dead." Constantine turned back. "If you truly want to solve this, calm down quickly. Only then can we talk."

Angela used her last strength to rise from the floor. She gripped her pistol tightly, as if it could give her safety. Shaking, she walked to the sofa and sat, covering her face with both hands.

Constantine sat down again across from her. "I shouldn't have interfered—but I didn't expect to meet someone in this world who suffered the same fate as me. So I can offer you some advice."

"I only want to find the killer of Isabelle and make them pay!" Angela slumped against the sofa, voice hollow. "I couldn't stop my parents from sending her to the asylum. She spent her best years there."

"After I became independent, I tried several times to bring her out—but she refused every time. Now she's dead, and she never knew one day of normal life." Tears stained Angela's face; the grief filled the entire room.

Constantine smoked in silence. "I told you—I can't bring anyone back to life. You don't understand what resurrection truly means."

"Resurrection is a devil's trap. As you chase it, you'll commit more crimes, kill more people, give up everything you have—and everything others have—until nothing remains."

"When you finish all this, you'll realize the one you brought back isn't your loved one or friend at all. They're just the devil's shadow, his bait. It's all a lie."

Angela took a deep breath. "If Isabelle truly can't be revived, then I must make the killer pay!"

Zero Point Reading

She gritted her teeth. "I don't care if they're angels or demons, if they're powerful or not—I'll make them know they'll pay for their crimes!"

Constantine's hand paused with the cigarette. He hadn't expected Angela's answer. When he looked at her again, he saw an unusual resolve and stubbornness in her brow.

That told Constantine she was a good cop. Without such unwavering determination, she could never have brought criminals to justice, case after case.

"To do that, we must find out who took your sister's soul. Where did she die?" Constantine asked.

"She spent her whole life in the asylum. She died in her hospital room." Angela closed her eyes, voice trembling. "She died… at Anderson Asylum."

"... Anderson Asylum?" Bruce looked up, reading the cursive English on the side door sign.

"If I remember right, Anderson was a wealthy magnate from last century's Metropolis. The Anderson family's reputation on the East Coast came from building hospitals—you'll find hospitals bearing their name in nearby cities," Lex said, staring at the name.

Bruce glanced once but said nothing, walking forward. In America, hospitals named after people were common—mostly funded by the rich or privately founded. Arkham Asylum in Gotham, for example, was established and named by Arkham himself.

There was little security at the side entrance. Bruce and Lex slipped in easily. Not far from the wall stood the main eastern building of the asylum. Bruce and Lex followed the shortest route, swiftly entering the hospital.

Standing before the second-floor window, Bruce squinted at the courtyard. As he'd said, something was wrong—the number of patrolling guards was excessive.

Suddenly, they heard movement downstairs. Bruce and Lex instantly ducked into a room. They were lucky—it was an empty ward, unoccupied, and the door was tightly shut, hard to detect.

At the door, Bruce heard a man and woman talking. The man spoke first, voice tense: "What do we do now? Ms. Palo is dead. The bank president is dead. What happens to our research?"

"Don't panic. We still have plenty of research funding. Even if this deal falls through, it won't affect our next experiment."

"But what about after that? Who'll donate more? Even ignoring funding—how do we get the Geological Bureau to cooperate with future experiments?"

"Don't forget—the key step is deployment. We need thorough knowledge of Metropolis's underground aquifers to ensure effectiveness. There's only one chance. One mistake, and everything's wasted."

"Don't rush." The woman's voice remained calm. "We chose this hospital precisely because it sits at the convergence point where Metropolis's aquifers meet the sea. The groundwater here is enough for our research."

"You're too cautious! We—"

As they argued, their voices and footsteps faded down the corridor. Only then did Bruce step out. He turned to Lex. "Did you hear? They said an experiment is underway here…"

"Where would the records be kept?" Lex frowned.

Both looked down simultaneously. Bruce said: "The research lab on the aquifers must be underground. I studied the building layout—there's definitely a basement."

He strode to the window. "According to them, Palo Corp and the Central Bank knew about this experiment. They even hired such professional security—I suspect these men were pulled from military zones…"

"Let's go down. We'll find out what they're up to." Lex turned and headed downstairs.

They descended the stairs to the first floor, searching for the basement entrance. As expected, it was locked—and the security inside was tighter.

"Let's go up and find the key." Bruce said without hesitation. He knew watching longer was useless. This door couldn't be broken by force—and they had no tools for it.

They climbed higher. It was deep night; most patients and researchers were asleep. They encountered no resistance, reaching the fourth floor—where every room was occupied.

Bruce and Lex had planned only to pass through this floor, cross the corridor bridge to the opposite building's fourth floor, and locate the staff dormitories.

But as they passed through, they noticed every room held a patient—except one on the right. That room was empty.

Bruce paused before the door, pulled out a mini flashlight, and shone it on the nameplate: "Isabelle Dodge." Diagnosis: Delusional Disorder. Hospitalization: 16 years.

Bruce frowned. Lex stepped forward. "What's wrong? Is there something odd about this patient?"

"This doesn't make sense. I interned at Arkham Asylum. Yes, some patients stay ten years or longer due to mental illness—but this diagnosis is wrong."

"No one stays sixteen years with delusional disorder. Even if she never recovered, her family would've sought other options. They wouldn't just abandon her here."

"Besides, delusional disorder responds well to medication. Unless symptoms showed zero improvement, she'd never have stayed this long."

As he spoke, Bruce gently turned the doorknob. To his surprise, the door opened with a light push.

Inside was a clean, tidy ward: one bed, a small nightstand, a wardrobe, and a small TV facing the bed.

As Bruce stepped in, he froze. He stopped Lex from entering. "There's a smell of blood…"

Bruce tensed, crouched slightly to lower his center of gravity, scanning the room for threats. After a long look, he confirmed: it was truly empty.

He and Lex entered, flashlights in hand, searching. As Lex rummaged through the wardrobe, he suddenly noticed a loose floorboard at the bottom. He tugged—but it wouldn't budge. He called Bruce over.

Bruce pressed against the board and pried hard. A crack echoed as the board snapped free. Beneath it was a letter. Bruce easily pulled the loose envelope free. On it was written:

"To my dearest sister."