Chapter 625: The Pathological Crisis (Nine)

"Sister, forgive me for no longer being able to sit by your bedside and talk to you as usual; by the time you read this letter, I may already be in hell, speaking with devils."

"I've often told you I hoped to go to heaven, but as I write this letter, I know I can only go to hell."

"I'm sorry—you must be heartbroken now, grieving my death—but I must tell you, it was all worth it, and now you have no time for sorrow; there is one thing you must do, so my death won't be in vain."

"Our parents sent me to this psychiatric hospital sixteen years ago; I've lived here a very long time, familiar with every brick, every tile, every blade of grass and tree—but about two years ago, a group arrived, claiming to be geologists surveying Metropolis's underground water structure."

"At first, I was deeply interested in their project, because I never had the chance to attend school, and each of them had received higher education; I loved talking with them—they taught me so much I didn't know."

"I made a very good friend named Yin Ti, a graduate of Metropolis University—the very university I dreamed of attending."

"But I know this hospital too well, and I noticed something odd: they weren't studying Metropolis's underground water structure—they were conducting far more sinister experiments."

"I couldn't understand what exactly they were doing, but I knew they had carved out an underground laboratory for chemical experiments, likely intending to release their findings into the groundwater and poison all of Metropolis's citizens."

"By the time you read this letter, I should already be dead—but you may feel even more heartbroken and betrayed to learn that I truly did kill myself, precisely so you could come here and expose this terrible conspiracy, saving innocent lives."

"The story begins about two weeks ago: Yin Ti, the researcher I was closest to, suddenly burst into my ward one night, badly wounded; before she died, she told me she was a Soviet spy who had infiltrated this secret organization and become one of them."

"That very night, she finally obtained the crucial research data—the formula for that mysterious chemical agent—and she could no longer transmit the information, so she handed the documents to me."

"She didn't ask me to send the intelligence back to the Soviet Union; she only begged me to stop this conspiracy, to prevent innocent people from being harmed."

"She died in my ward; while pretending to sleep, I buried my face in the pillow so no one could see my tears—they didn't care about me, so I escaped detection."