Clown Game
Chapter 155 - 155 149 Numbers Three

Chapter 155: Chapter 149 Numbers Three Chapter 155: Chapter 149 Numbers Three He didn’t even bother with the lights, using the illumination from the corridor, he peeled the “Work and Rest Schedule” off the wall! Then he hurried back to the ward he had just left, hastily placed his hand on the wall, and started searching above the scratches.

Finally, he touched a strange spot, a peculiar sticky sensation, the kind left behind only after tape had been pulled off. Furthermore, starting from this spot, he found three other sticky “tape residues,” perfectly positioned at the corners of an A4 paper.

Dr. Zhang knew he had guessed right, so he couldn’t wait to pick up the “Work and Rest Schedule” in his hand, align it with the four corners, and affix the paper to the wall once again.

…Just like that, the wall was restored to its “original state.”

He looked at the wall which was now much more pleasing to the eye and took a deep breath.

“Let’s see what you’re trying to tell me…” he said soberly, as he gently touched the “Schedule,” feeling the scratches beneath the paper on the wall…

“Wake up… Wash up… Morning exercises…” Dr. Zhang murmured to himself.

“Eight o’clock!”

Suddenly, he stopped. The first scratch was on those two words “8 o’clock.”

He thought for a few seconds, but couldn’t understand the meaning of the patient’s actions, so he didn’t dwell on it and continued to search.

The subsequent scratches were found at “13 o’clock” “16 o’clock” “20 o’clock.”

By this time, with just a little thought, it was clear that the patient wanted to tell the doctor these sets of numbers!

Dr. Zhang took out a pen from the pocket of his coat and immediately wrote in the blank space next to the “Work and Rest Schedule”—

“8,13,16,20.”

He frowned, staring at these numbers, feeling completely clueless… According to his understanding, the patient should have left scratches above several letters, thereafter forming a complete sentence or revealing a name, place, or similar information. What was the point of leaving four numbers? Could it be that a mentally ill patient had foreseen the lottery numbers of the next issue, or was there a safe yet to be found that required a password to open?

Ah, compared to such absurd guesses, the most likely possibility seemed to be that these were just meaningless scratchings of a “mental patient” on the wall!

“Sigh… Could it be that it’s all been my own wishful thinking?”

Dr. Zhang sighed, suddenly feeling as though he had been toyed with. The enthusiasm he had for “pursuing the truth” deflated substantially.

…

…

In the dead of night, when it’s usually the peak time for creative inspiration~

Just when he was about to scold himself and quickly abandon this unrealistic fantasy…

He froze.

“Telephone number!!!”

Dr. Zhang didn’t just think it quietly to himself—he blurted it out!

In this era of mobile phones, he could hardly remember the last time he had dialed a “landline number,” but at this moment, he was certain of the significance behind this group of numbers.

He swiftly pulled out his own phone, and promptly entered the telephone number

“8131620”

Afterward, his finger hovered over the “call” button… trembling.

What awaited on the other end of a phone call left by a mental patient who had suddenly gone mad before leaving a number?

A few seconds later, as if he had finally made up his mind, with a “Here goes nothing!” attitude, he pressed it!

“Beep—buzz—beep—buzz—”

A busy signal.

Dr. Zhang felt a tinge of panic.

Suddenly, the call was connected, followed immediately by a shrill voice on the line.

“Heh—heh—heh”

…

At that moment, Dr. Zhang’s heart leapt into his throat. He was very afraid, but he didn’t know why. It seemed as if the laughter had triggered some deep-seated fear inside him.

The next instant, Dr. Zhang abruptly opened his eyes.

…

…

…

It was a disorienting feeling, as if he had suddenly awakened from a dream.

Before him was a somewhat moldy wall, appearing as though it was constructed with large bricks in the last century, now eroded and pocked after nearly a hundred years. In the peripheries of his vision to the left and right, he could see the edges of the wall connecting at right angles to two other similar walls.

From this sight, it was clear it was a very small room, and it hadn’t been visited in decades.

But as someone who had just opened his eyes, Dr. Zhang found himself in an unfamiliar environment and had no intention of dwelling on these matters.

“Fuck!”

He cursed reflexively, then quickly looked down at himself, and realized that he was sitting in a wooden chair.

Immediately, his first thought was to stand up quickly, but as he tried to rise, a tremendous force yanked him back down into the seat.

Only then did he notice a belt around his waist, binding him like a safety strap on a bus.

“What the hell is this?!” he cried out in terror, also noticing that his hands weren’t tied, so he frantically tried to undo the belt…

Suddenly!

“You’re awake…”

A male voice suddenly came from his left.

“Fuck!”

Dr. Zhang was startled again, cursed reflexively once more, and turned his head to look in the direction of the voice.

Leaning against the wall next to him was a man under 30 years old, wearing glasses, dressed in patient’s clothes, of seemingly short stature and not very muscular, with somewhat long hair, who was now staring intently at him.

At the same time, Dr. Zhang had undone the belt around his waist, quickly stood up, and tried to compose himself from the “successive shocks,” cautiously putting some distance between himself and the stranger.

“Who are you?”

He asked a question that one certainly would upon encountering a stranger.

The other person, apparently aware of the panic that accompanies waking up in such a state, tentatively raised his hands and pressed them down, responding,

“Calm down, I only woke up a few minutes before you… and, my name is Liu Yi, I don’t know what’s happening either!”

…

Now that Dr. Zhang had regained his composure, he sized up the stranger across from him. He noted the man’s frailty, the unmistaken look of an indoorsman, deducing that even if he were hostile, he might not be able to overpower himself, so he felt somewhat relieved and began observing the surroundings.

It was a cramped space filled with a musty smell, probably less than 20 square meters, with bare, mottled walls enclosing them, clutching at black and red bricks. On the back wall, at the edge, was a half-open, obsolete wooden door. Due to the angle, it was unclear what was outside, but a faint light shone in, without which the room might have been pitch black.

The floor was strewn with broken and somewhat rotten floorboards, making for a sharp underfoot. The ceiling was low, a jump away from being touched, with a small round hole in the center that seemed to be for running electric light cords, of course, the wires were long gone…

Considering the surroundings, this place was likely a building from several decades, or even a century ago, devoid of any decorations or furniture, just bare walls, and in the middle of the room were two chairs.

Of course… these two chairs definitely wouldn’t be classified as furniture, as they exuded a morbid and terrifying air, resembling an “electric chair” adapted for executions, with a restraint strap at the waist… and at the top of the chair’s backrest, where the “head” would be, protruded five stout wires, one on top and two on each side, crudely outlining the shape of a head, but obviously much larger in circumference, which was why Dr. Zhang hadn’t touched them earlier. At the tips of the wires, there were three misshapen round metal discs, overall, the design made these two chairs look particularly eerie.

Dr. Zhang frowned and looked up toward the man who claimed to be “Liu Yi”… blinking his eyes.

“What kind of hell is this?”