Chapter 227

What's this, a welcome hazing for new recruits? Are you guys some college fraternity or what?

Li Cheng stared impassively as all the blood handprints gradually faded—not because he wanted to stay,

but because in the past half-minute, his entire body had gone stiff and icy, his limbs numb and immobile.

Especially his brain, which felt as if submerged in ice water, sending sharp stabs of pain through his skull.

As the blood handprints vanished, all the pain receded like a tide pulling back.

"Thousands of handprints, each differing in shape, size, and finger configuration—even some with missing fingers. Maybe the system forced me to stand here and watch this entire CG cutscene just to remind me these palms belonged to the hospital's dead victims?"

"Hmm. At least I can confirm one thing: this script mission definitely has supernatural elements."

After pondering for a while, Li Cheng gave up trying to figure it out and, like he'd swallowed a dose of Smile-Step-Blind, bounced toward the corridor's outer wall to examine the windows.

The windows used relatively thick laminated glass with good sound insulation; under the corridor's lighting, he could faintly make out the hospital's main building as a U-shape, constructed of reinforced concrete, four stories above ground.

Only the first and second floors were lit; the third and fourth were pitch black, showing no trace of human activity. The night sky held no stars.

In the center of the U-shaped main building was a colorful flowerbed.

"Heather, American carnation, bougainvillea, Tecoma… judging by the flower types and blooming season, the current time must be autumn or winter—perfectly matching the newspaper's December date."

"Also, the fact that someone took the time to maintain this flowerbed so meticulously suggests this hospital is genuinely wealthy."

Even though his player panel was sealed, Li Cheng, who had long practiced multi-threaded brain domain technique, instinctively activated multi-threaded thinking.

He gathered information, analyzed clues, and strategized, while his thoughts drifted aimlessly.

Behind his real-world university, the back hill was planted with ornamental heather.

The plant was great in every way—cold-resistant, drought-tolerant, thrived in poor soil, stayed evergreen, and even absorbed dust—but its bloom scent was utterly unbearable,

especially under the male dormitory in peak summer, when thousands of flowers burst open and the heather stench hit your brain like a sledgehammer, damn near suffocating, old buddy.

Clang.

Li Cheng tried elbowing the window—it wouldn't shatter, and instantly a system prompt popped up: 【Window immovable, cannot open】

Classic setup, alright.

He smirked, stopped elbowing, and, following the principle of conserving energy, bounced along the wall, exploring the first floor.

Thank goodness the restraint suit's fabric was coarse—it prevented him from slipping on the tile floor.

Almost all doors, including the main entrance, were locked; attempting to ram them triggered the standard prompt: 【Door immovable, cannot open】.

Only three places were different.

First, the pharmacy—marked as requiring a pharmacy key.

Second, the elevator lobby. He could enter and exit freely, and ride the elevator directly to other floors.

Worried he might miss undiscovered clues on this floor and get stuck upstairs after taking the elevator, Li Cheng temporarily avoided the cabin.

Third, the medical records room.

"Medical records rooms store patient files—diagnostic certificates, admission records, lab reports, hospitalization logs… There might be data on the character I'm playing."

Through the restraint suit, Li Cheng gently turned the door handle with his elbow.

Click.

The wooden door swung open—and Li Cheng's heart sank.

According to horror game conventions, a room that clearly hides critical clues and opens effortlessly almost always contains a jump scare—or a lethal trap.

Sure enough, the instant he opened the door, a breath-like sensation brushed the back of his neck—as if something were exhaling onto his nape.

Li Cheng didn't turn his head. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the reflection in the metal door handle, watching what lay behind him.

Not an illusion—behind him, a human-shaped shadow stood inverted on the ceiling, pressed against the back of his skull, breathing into his collar.

As if noticing Li Cheng had seen it, the shadow let out a tinkling, bell-like "gigglegigglegiggle," walking upside-down along the ceiling, racing away until it vanished around the corridor's corner.

"Like the blood handprints earlier—just meant to scare?"

"But it could also be a real death trap—if I turn around, my neck gets snapped instantly."

Li Cheng silently twisted the handle again, engaging the secondary latch to prevent the door from closing.

Then he bounced all the way to the corridor's corner—no sign of the shadow.

Only then did he retrace his steps and push open the medical records room door.

The room's lights were on; it was much larger than the isolation cell, lined with numerous metal filing cabinets—all locked.

On the wall hung a brand-new photograph: a group portrait of all staff at Saint Elizabeth Psychiatric Hospital, over two hundred people.

Most faces were blurred beyond recognition, but three were clearly visible, with names listed beneath.

Chief physician Dawson—a tall, broad-shouldered, sun-smiling middle-aged white man.

Female director Pella—a beautiful white woman.

Head nurse Lachide—a composed, cold-eyed, physically imposing white woman.

"A full group photo, yet only these three faces are clear—obviously telling players these three are important: either key NPCs or the final boss."

As Li Cheng pondered, a rustling, crawling sound emerged from the medical records room's ventilation duct.

Not again?

Li Cheng's eye twitched; he swiftly scanned the room for anything usable as a weapon.

Clang. Clang.

The crawling sound grew closer. With no means of self-defense, Li Cheng immediately crouched low, hiding behind a filing cabinet near the door, waiting.

"Oh no!"

A slick, young male voice came from the duct: "Why won't this panel open?"

A human who can communicate?

Li Cheng narrowed his eyes, peering through the gap between filing cabinets.

Inside the duct, a blurred figure was straining to extend a finger through the vent cover, trying to reach a screw at its corner.

Damn, I forgot the whole hospital—only the vent cover in the records room has screws.

The figure cursed under his breath, retracted his too-short fingers, then suddenly sharpened his gaze, noticing Li Cheng behind the filing cabinet. He raised his voice: "William? Is that you? Don't hide—I see you."

"How do you know it's me?"

Li Cheng stood up and asked.

"Of course I know—I watched you with my own eyes this morning, blindfolded, being dragged off and thrown into solitary confinement."

The figure sneered. "Lend a hand, will you? Unscrew the vent cover so I can get out."

From his tone, this guy clearly knew the character Li Cheng was playing quite well.

Li Cheng bounced out from behind the filing cabinet, still probing: "Look at me—I'm tied up all over. How am I supposed to help you?"

"Figure something out! You always brag you grew up on the streets, polished shoes, sold newspapers, trained as a mechanic, flown planes and tanks—you know everything, just barely."

Holy shit, this William's got a thicker skin than mine.

Seeing no hostility from the other, Li Cheng decided to lend a hand.

He scanned the room—no screwdriver, no pry bar. The vent was too high; even standing on the desk barely reached it. No way to force it open.

So only one option left:

Li Cheng had a sudden idea: he spat out the thick tape he'd stuck to his mouth earlier, now stuck to the screw on the vent corner.

Then he bit down on the screw, using the tape's stickiness to slowly twist it.

After seven or eight minutes, he removed all three screws. The figure behind the vent couldn't wait—he shoved the cover aside and jumped down.

With a remarkably graceful front flip, he landed on the desk.

"Whoa!"

Li Cheng raised an eyebrow—this guy wasn't human, literally. He was a giant rat, walking upright on two legs.

About 1.6 meters tall, sharp-toothed, with short gray-white fur, black eyes darting with cunning, and a one-meter-long tail sweeping back and forth.

Even weirder—he wore a blue-and-white hospital gown, with his name embroidered on the chest.

"Skaven?"

Li Cheng muttered the name, grimacing. The rat stretched lazily. "What?"

"Nothing."

Li Cheng's mind raced. He didn't ask the death question—"There's a rat in the house, hide the poison, don't let it steal food!" or "Bro, why are you a rat?" Instead he asked: "What are you doing here so late?"

"I came to check my own file. Some fans are coming to visit me in a few days—I need to make sure the doctors aren't slandering me."

The rat snorted. "Even if I have a stealing habit, it's the world's best stealing habit.

Don't forget—I got caught stealing FBI top-secret files from the Edgar Hoover Building. Not some petty thief."

The rat paused, sizing up Li Cheng, then pulled from his jacket pocket a plastic bag containing a detachable surgical blade. "Don't move. I'll free you."

The sharp blade sliced through the restraint suit—there was a sharp *pop* as the stitching tore—and Li Cheng's limbs were finally free.

'So helping the rat out of the vent rewards me with freedom from the restraint suit.'

Li Cheng suddenly understood. He quickly shed the heavy restraint suit and realized he was wearing a blue-and-white hospital gown too—his chest bore the name "William."

After freeing Li Cheng, the rat tucked the blade back into the plastic bag, hummed a tune, jumped off the desk, and crouched before a filing cabinet. He pulled out a thin wire and began picking the lock.

His movements were expert, practiced—clearly a seasoned criminal.

Li Cheng removed his head cover and watched, asking curiously: "Where are the doctors, nurses, patients?"

"All in their rooms. Isn't it always like this at night?"

The rat spoke cheerfully, yanked open a filing cabinet, pulled out a manila envelope, and tossed it to Li Cheng. "Here. Your file."

Getting his identity documents was easier than expected. Li Cheng caught the envelope, surprised, opened it—and found only a few pages inside.

Most of the text was heavily blacked out; only a few lines were barely legible.

Name: William

Gender: Male

Age: Seventeen

Condition: Schizophrenia (hallucinations, delusions, disorganized thinking, no aggressive behavior)

"Huh?"

The rat, rummaging through files, suddenly noticed something and turned to stare at Li Cheng. "Aren't you supposed to have green eyes? Why are yours blue now?"

The photo attached to the paper file showed William as a handsome blond boy with green eyes.

But when Li Cheng removed his head cover, the reflection in the window showed him with blue eyes.

A clue? Or a hint about his condition?

"Maybe I drank too much blueberry juice lately."

Li Cheng laughed it off, changing the subject. "By the way, bro—I'm going to explore the hospital. You coming? Or can I borrow your surgical blade for now? I need something for protection."

"Explore the hospital? What's there to see at night? You'll just run into danger."

The rat ignored him, still focused on the filing cabinet. "As for the blade—I could lend it, but you've got to trade me gum.

I need it for picking locks."

Anyone who's picked locks knows: for low-security locks, you can stuff chewed gum into the keyhole, press it in with wire, expand the plug, then turn the lock with the wire.

'So this is a side quest—gum for the surgical blade.'

Li Cheng understood. "Where can I get gum?"

"Go to the second floor. There's a kid in pediatrics who cries all day—he loves gum. He's probably got some stashed."

With that, the rat returned to picking locks with full concentration.

Unfortunately, aside from Li Cheng's own file, every other folder in the cabinets was completely blacked out—no useful clues to be found.

"This is actually the system helping eliminate useless info. Otherwise, with all these files, we'd be reading till dawn."

Li Cheng thought for a moment, sizing up the rat-man's build.

Don't let this rat-man's height of only one meter sixty — half a head shorter than Li Cheng's current stature — fool you; beneath the fur, his muscles were genuinely well-developed, and in a real fight, he might not necessarily come out on top.

Li Cheng decisively abandoned the notion of "sneak-attacking the rat-man to snatch the scalpel blade," and switched to verbal harassment. "Rat-bro, actually I'm a Rat too — five hundred years ago we were one family. How about you lend me the blade first, and I'll give you some chewing gum later? Also, do you know where the pharmacy key is?"

The rat-man was unmoved. "Stop bothering me while I look for files."

"Rat-bro, I've got some rat poison here — it'd be good for your health."

"Stop bothering me while I look for files."

"Your next line is, 'Stop bothering me while I look for files!'"

"Stop bothering me while I look for files."

No matter how Li Cheng teased him, the rat-man was like an NPC in a video game who'd run out of dialogue once the plot reached a certain stage — he could only repeat the same line.

After playing around like this for a while, Li Cheng finally confirmed he couldn't get any more useful leads, and only then left the records room and headed to the second floor.

(End of chapter)