Chapter 62: Brother, go register at the psychiatry department for a check‑up (revised)

Yang Yixie was rubbing his somewhat sore eyes; hearing that, he replied in an annoyed tone.

"Just got off stream, what time is it now? Do you guys actually do spot checks at this hour? Or are you sleepwalking?"

He never had much reverence for his older brother; getting a call at this time, not yelling at him was already considerate.

On the other end of the line, Yang Yichen seemed to choke for a moment, fell silent for two seconds, then continued in a tone that tried to sound casual but was full of holes.

"Nothing... I just suddenly remembered and wanted to ask you, have you recently... uh... encountered anything... strange?"

"Strange things?" Yang Yixie was left bewildered.

"What strange things could I encounter? I'm either gaming or streaming all day, at most going downstairs to grab groceries—does finding free money in the game count?"

He instinctively thought of the two thousand he had ripped off from Bai Mu Yun in the game.

"Not that kind..."

Yang Yichen seemed to be choosing his words, his voice dropping lower, carrying an almost mysterious tone.

"Well... uh... for example, have you had any strange dreams? Like dreaming your consciousness went to a completely unfamiliar place? A world with various special abilities and creatures?"

The more Yang Yixie listened, the tighter his brows furrowed—what kind of questions were these? Soul projection? Special abilities?

"Brother." Yang Yixie's tone carried clear concern, but it was expressed in a way that said, "Are you brain‑dead or something?"

"Be honest with me—have you been under too much pressure lately, staying up late and hallucinating? Listen to me, take tomorrow off and see a doctor, get a neurology... or psychiatry appointment?"

He paused, then added in a tone he thought was humorous but was actually begging for a punch.

"Don't worry, even if you really have something, I, your brother, won't despise you—at most I'll help you take more blackmail photos as a keepsake."

On the other end of the line, Yang Yichen was visibly choked by his brother's "sincere" concern, unable to speak for a while.

Yang Yixie could even picture his brother on the other end of the line, rendered speechless, unconsciously touching his high nose bridge in embarrassment.

"... I'm fine."

Yang Yichen's voice regained a bit of its usual composure, but the subtle urgency remained not entirely gone.

He clearly realized he couldn't get anything from his brother, nor could he explain why he'd asked such a strange question, so he abruptly changed the subject.

"Mom... how have you been lately? Is your health still okay?"

Upon mentioning their mother, Yang Yixie's earlier impatience and teasing vanished instantly.

He fell silent for a moment, and his voice grew low.

"Still the same—neither good nor bad; the doctor said maintaining the status quo is the best news, so I'll make a meal tomorrow and bring it to her."

"Mm, thanks for the effort."

Yang Yichen's voice carried guilt; he works outside, and before this he could only leave their mother's care entirely to the caregivers.

After Yang Yixie finished the college entrance exam, he began preparing three meals a day himself and delivering them to their mother.

"Once I wrap things up here, I'll head back to see you and Mom—you... also stay safe and get some rest early."

"Got it, got it—you too, don't waste time on nonsense, go to sleep." Yang Yixie urged, then promptly hung up.

He pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at the darkening screen, and couldn't help muttering under his breath.

"Scared me half to death in the middle of the night—I thought something had happened, only to hear you talk about games becoming real, consciousness crossing over... looks like you're just exhausted stupid."

He shook his head, tossing this little incident to the back of his mind.

After all, his brother might be working overtime until he's stupid—what can he, as the younger brother, do? Nothing but forgive him.

Yang Yixie got up, washed up briefly, then returned to bed, simply setting his phone to silent and plugging it into the charger on the nightstand.

Soon the room fell back into darkness and silence, save for the phone's charging indicator emitting a weak, regular blinking green light.

————————————————

In Shoudu, inside a minimally decorated high‑rise apartment.

Yang Yichen slowly lowered the phone from his ear, his fingertips still retaining the unconscious grip from the call just ended.

He stood before a huge floor‑to‑ceiling window; outside lay a brilliant yet icy city nightscape, countless lights like scattered stars, yet unable to dispel the heaviness deep in his eyes.

His brother's energetic disdain and blunt advice left him feeling both helpless and somewhat amused, but above all a vague anxiety he could not put into words.

He could not tell his brother that the "hallucinations" and "weird dreams" he had just described were not fiction, but the bloody reality he had personally experienced.

His consciousness had truly been thrust into a world brimming with Aberrant Species, Aberrant Arts, and intrigue, where he endured one life‑and‑death battle after another until only recently did he struggle back.

In that so‑called game world, he still had a brother, but after their parents died one after another, that brother also perished in an accident.

In this world, his brother is perfectly fine, which gave him a slight sense of relief, yet the sense of danger stemming from his own experience remained undiminished.

He clearly remembered that when the game approached him, it said he was among the first batch of players; if there's a first batch, could there be a second?

Who could guarantee that the next one chosen wouldn't be his brother, who has nothing to do with this?

His mother's condition also weighed heavily on him; as the eldest son, unable to fulfill filial duties at her bedside, this guilt often gnawed at him.

He drew a deep breath, trying to calm his surging thoughts.

His gaze unconsciously swept over the street below.

Just then, a pitch‑black car, like a predator gliding through the dark night, silently pulled up in the shadow of the streetlamp below his apartment building.

Its headlights went out, blending perfectly with the surrounding darkness.

Almost simultaneously, the screen of his phone, still not dimmed, flashed on abruptly, a new message pop‑up appearing before his eyes, the sender a string of encrypted gibberish:

**: 【Come down.】

The message was brief, purely a one‑sided notice.

Yang Yichen stared at that message, then glanced at the car below that seemed forged from night itself, his pupils narrowing slightly.

The last trace of emotion from his conversation with his brother vanished completely, restoring his cold composure.

He did not reply, merely gripped his phone tightly, turned, and walked toward the entrance.

The warm light of the living room cast a long shadow behind him, forming a stark contrast with the endless darkness outside the window.