Life Game In Other World
Chapter 557: The Psychiatric Hospital in the Industrial District (Super Long - , Seeking Monthly Pass)

Chapter 557: Chapter 557: The Psychiatric Hospital in the Industrial District (Super Long Chapter, Seeking Monthly Pass)

"Brother, why are you going to a psychiatric hospital at this time? Do you live nearby?"

The taxi driver sitting in the driver’s seat rested his hands on the steering wheel, glancing at the surrounding vehicles.

"I have a friend hospitalized there."

He Ao responded, fiddling with the map feature on his wristband.

A three-dimensional map was projected from the wristband, and He Ao gazed at the address of the Wicke Psychiatric Hospital marked on it, pensive.

"Oh, oh, speeding up, the driver overtook the car in front, "You’re visiting him now; you must be close, huh?"

"Indeed," He Ao nodded lightly, "I’ve always missed him."

He Ao turned off the map on his wristband and opened the detailed information about Wicke Psychiatric Hospital that Eve had just searched for him.

The psychiatric hospital was established about a decade ago. According to the fragmented information available on the internet, it was a charitable institution, offering free treatment to the mentally ill.

Although Eve had collected some information about this hospital from the internet, it was sparse, mostly scattered posts from netizens.

They only described that the hospital provided free accommodation and meals for the patients, and it seemed to have a decent environment.

However, the hospital generally did not admit patients with immediate family members still alive; they only took in homeless people showing signs of mental illness and solitary elderly people suspected of being sick.

Yet, there were posts made by those claiming to be court employees, mentioning that the hospital also admitted mentally ill criminals transferred from the courts.

And there, the information abruptly ended.

This psychiatric hospital had no official website or promotional material. Apart from its geographical location on map software, no other concrete information about the hospital could be found.

Even the geographical location was uploaded by internet users nearby and was not officially certified by the hospital.

Judging from this information, the psychiatric hospital seemed more like an urban legend than a medical institution.

"This area used to be an industrial district, right?"

The slowly moving taxi turned into a section of rather old buildings, the driver looked around, "When did an industrial district open a psychiatric hospital? Aren’t these all factories around here?"

"It’s been about a decade," He Ao said, gazing at the familiar scenes around him, fragments of memories from Jess surfacing. He put down his wristband and commented offhandedly.

"I’ve lived here for over a decade and have never seen this psychiatric hospital," the driver glanced at the navigation on the car’s display, "Are you sure this location is accurate?"

"It should be," He Ao looked out the window, "Wicke Psychiatric Hospital is the only one in the whole Vitland."

The old buildings passed one by one outside the window, "It’s been more than a decade, and basically nothing has changed."

"Have you been here before?"

The driver glanced at He Ao in the rearview mirror, observing his reflective demeanor, "Did you work here once?"

"My father worked over here, a long time ago."

He Ao offered a gentle smile.

"Then your father must have had it tough, the working conditions here have always been rather poor, accidents are frequent. These factories, some of their buildings have been around for over fifty years, just one misstep, and you could fall victim to some safety incident."

The driver slapped the steering wheel, "Those damned conglomerates only care about making more money, refusing to spare a dime to improve the living conditions for those below them."

"Mm."

He Ao nodded gently.

"But it’s true,"

Following the navigation, the driver turned into a dark alley without street lights, "If life was better, who the hell would come here to work? Layoffs are happening everywhere. Many who used to work in offices in North Vitland have now moved to the factories. And these factories only want the young ones, they don’t take on us older ones anymore."

"How does the taxi industry compare to the factories?"

He Ao shifted his gaze back inside, picking up the conversation.

"How could it be any better? It’s all the same,"

The driver sighed,

"The company takes more than a 30% cut from each fare, then there’s the electricity, maintenance, rental fees for the company’s car, various insurances; hardly any money from a fare ends up in my pocket. To earn more, one has to work the early mornings that come with extra charges, or put in more hours.

"But what can you do? I have two kids at home. They need schooling, they need to eat. There’s the credit card bills to pay every month, the rent hanging over my head.

"Actually, my wife works in a factory nearby. I know it’s dangerous, and people can die there, but there’s no choice—without work, there’s no food. If you fall behind on your credit card, the interest compounds, and it just keeps increasing. Fall behind on rent, and you get kicked out," he explained.

He pointed to the tents of the homeless against the wall outside the window,

"Look at the homeless out there. They once had homes too. They’re out here because they couldn’t afford the rent or mortgage. After being evicted, they end up living outside or in cheap motels. I have a colleague who ended up like that.

"I used to think, what’s so bad about sleeping on the streets? If it comes to it, I’ll sleep on the street.

"But it was from this colleague that I learned sleeping on the street is fine for a night or two. After that, you catch a cold, you get sick.

"The people who sleep on the streets basically have no health insurance, or they buy the cheapest insurance they can find. Once you get sick, the hospitals drain your last dime and make your living conditions even worse.

"Even if you recover, the worsened living conditions lead to repeated illness, and then when you can’t afford treatment, your health collapses, leaving you unable to work. My colleague was fired because his performance suffered from his poor health."

"Later, I heard he was wandering the streets south of Plante,"

he paused for a moment, "And after that, I never heard from him again."

After finishing, he laughed, "Sorry, I’ve been complaining a lot lately. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off."

"It’s okay."

He Ao smiled and shook his head.

The taxi slowly pulled over at that moment, and the gentle female voice of the car’s navigation system came through, "You have arrived at your destination. Please remember to take your belongings with you and watch for traffic on both sides. Trison Taxi Company is at your service."

"Brother, this location seems a bit off,"

the taxi driver commented, glancing out the window.

This place seemed like a forgotten corner, with the streetlights all around broken, leaving only the faint light of the taxi illuminating the path ahead.

Looking out of the window, in the murky night, there was only a rust-stained iron gate, and behind that gate, a building with just a few scattered rooms lit.

The taxi driver turned on the flashlight feature on his wristband and shone it on the rust-streaked iron door, then, beside the door, he found a somewhat faded painted sign.

"Wicke Psychiatric Hospital," he read aloud from the sign, "There really is a psychiatric hospital here."

He glanced again at the rust-streaked door. The night breeze blew through the door, shaking the loose bolts and rusty iron, creating a squealing noise.

He turned to look at He Ao, "Brother, how long has it been since you’ve seen your friend? Is it urgent? This place looks more like a psychiatric hospital from a ghost story. You don’t seem like a bad guy. Why not get some friends and come back tomorrow afternoon?"

"It’s been a while, and I didn’t know he was here until recently,"

He Ao raised his wristband to pay the fare, then opened the door and stepped out of the taxi, smiling, "It’s okay, I’m safer in the dark."

The evening breeze blew through his clothes, blending his figure into the thick night.

Only then did the driver get a clear look at He Ao’s face, and also noticed the faint reddish spots on his clothes.

For some reason, he found He Ao, at that moment, more terrifying than the gloomy psychiatric hospital, more like a killer roaming in the dark.

But perhaps because of their chat, this killer didn’t make him feel estranged. While fear rose in him, his overall mood was surprisingly calm.

"Then take care, and remember to call the Federal Bureau of Investigation if you’re in danger,"

he pulled back into the taxi, stretching his arm out the window to wave at He Ao, "I hope everything goes well for you."

"Thank you."

He Ao nodded, watching the somewhat old taxi vanish into the deep night.

The fear that terrorists spread seemed to affect less those with a friendly and kind disposition.

He turned back, looking at the squeaking iron gate in the night wind.

At the edge of the gate hung a metal sign with barely legible text,

[Visitors, please proceed inside]

He Ao’s gaze moved past the sign and onto the faded sign beside the gate.

The massive sign, embedded into the wall, had a dull purplish-red hue, clashing with the grey-white of the wall.

The sign wasn’t originally part of the wall.

On the gray-white wall, directly etched with the company’s name decades before, was ’Enright Chemical Company.’

The chemical plant where Jess’s father had his accident.

Soon after Jess’s father had an accident, the chemical plant filed for bankruptcy liquidation, and all of its assets were auctioned off.

After that, Jess never heard the name of this chemical plant again.

It was as if the chemical plant had truly disappeared forever.

He Ao withdrew his gaze, placed his hand on the iron gate, and, accompanied by the shrill and lingering sound of creaking, he slowly pushed open the gate.

The reason He Ao came here was not only because the mentally ill murderer who killed his wife was detained here, but also because this mental hospital was built on the old industrial district where Jess’s father had his accident, which made him sense something was amiss.

Although Jess did not remember the exact location of the Enright Chemical Company, as the place where his father died, he vaguely remembered the general area.

And He Ao saw the location of the Wicke Psychiatric Hospital, right within the general area in Jess’s memory.

Although he had some expectations before coming, when the psychiatric hospital, reconstructed from the old chemical plant, appeared before He Ao, he was still slightly surprised.

Who would buy a chemical plant that had experienced a major accident and then convert it into a free psychiatric hospital?

He Ao’s thoughts returned to the present, looking into the murky darkness, the ’Eyes of the Night’ used by terrorists made the surrounding scenery as clear as daylight.

Behind the iron gate was a narrow path leading directly to the building that was closest to the main gate and all lit up.

On both sides of the path were well-manicured lawns and flowers swaying in the night breeze.

In the expensive land of Vitland, it had become rare for such a large space to be allocated for planting greenery.

Aside from the rusted gate and the peeling signage, just looking at the flowers and plants inside, the mental hospital indeed had a nice environment.

He Ao followed the path step by step.

Long-buried memories gradually replayed in his mind.

Jess had visited the Enright Chemical Company multiple times after his father’s death. At that time, there was also such a path behind the company’s iron gate, but the sides of the path were lined with old factories.

At that time, the factory on one side of the path had collapsed due to being too old, while the other side was the site of the explosion, with most of the factory becoming ruins.

The person who bought this land had demolished the two factories and built a garden on the original ruins.

He Ao’s steps halted beside a flower swaying at the edge of the path.

It was a purple five-petalled flower, its leaves and petals matching elegantly, making it look enchanting and beautiful.

City dwellers seeing this flower might only exclaim at its delicate beauty.

But wanderers of the wilderness would immediately leave the land that fostered such a flourishing flower.

In the memories He Ao inherited from the Wilderness Wanderer Ronald, this type of flower was known as the Ghost Flower to the wanderers of the wilderness.

It was a flower that bloomed in all seasons.

But its blossoms would only appear on soil soaked in fresh blood.

The more souls that had perished beneath the soil, the more spectacularly the Ghost Flowers bloomed in the mountain wilds.

Seeing the blossoming Ghost Flowers in the wilderness meant that there was either a powerful predator nearby or a tribe fond of killing, and it was necessary to leave immediately.

The petals of this flower were also one of the ingredients for making Gene Potion.

Of course, when Jess used these petals as experimental material, he did not know where the flowers grew.

He Ao let go of the Ghost Flower he had been holding, allowing the blossom to continue swaying in the evening breeze.

His figure rapidly moved forward along the quiet path until he finally reached the brightly lit entrance of the psychiatric hospital.

Here, too, hung a sign for Wicke Psychiatric Hospital, which was much newer than the one outside.

Below the sign was a frosted glass door, through which only a dim glow could be seen.

He Ao pushed open the glass door and entered the interior of the psychiatric hospital.

The first thing that struck his eyes was a spacious hall.

The first floor hall of the psychiatric hospital was lit with dazzling lights, in contrast to the pitch-black scenery outside.

Many patients in hospital attire were dozing in the seating area of the hall or gathered around a large TV, watching it.

Some nurses were pushing patients who seemed to have lost the ability to move and were sitting in wheelchairs, walking and relaxing in the hall, chatting with the patients.

At first glance, this place seemed no different from an ordinary sanatorium.

But upon closer inspection, one would notice that most of these patients maintained a peculiar silence, watching TV or staring blankly, hardly making any sound.

Instead, it was the nurses pushing the wheelchairs who exhibited an unusually excited demeanor, talking incessantly to the near unresponsive patients in a somewhat hoarse tone.

Their excitement resembled agitation.

"Hello, may I help you?"

Just as He Ao was observing the scene in the lobby, a calm and cold greeting came from the side.

He Ao looked up to see, not far from him, a nurse at a curved consultation desk, wearing a white cap, a plain white nursing dress, and a black cardigan. She was looking at him with a puzzled expression.

The nurse had a meticulously applied makeup, and her bright red lips reflected a sparkling luster under the bright lights.

She had a fine figure; even cloaked in the loose nursing dress, it couldn’t conceal her subtly graceful silhouette.

She looked less like a nurse in a hospital and more like the manager or receptionist at a high-end mall or office building.

"Hello,"

Upon seeing the nurse, He Ao naturally walked over to her. He raised his wristband, activated an interface, "I’m the director of a private charity foundation. I heard that there’s a philanthropic, free-of-charge psychiatric hospital here, so I wanted to come and take a look."

He extended his wristband toward the nurse to show the interface, which was indeed the management interface of Jess’s private charity fund.

"You would like to?"

The nurse glanced at the interface and looked at He Ao with some confusion, "Are you thinking of making a donation to our hospital?"

Compared to the other nurses, this one at the consultation desk appeared exceedingly normal, so normal that she didn’t fit in with the atmosphere of the lobby.

"I’d like to have a tour first,"

He Ao withdrew his wristband, revealing a smile, "I also know some friends who run media companies. I’ve noticed online that your psychiatric hospital hasn’t done much in terms of promotion. I think better publicity could bring you more funding."

Jess didn’t know friends who owned media companies, but Vian did.

Revealing this connection was to give the other party a reason to cooperate.

This psychiatric hospital might not need money, but judging from their behavior, they did not seem to want to be exposed to the public eye.

"Sorry, we’re not in need of..."

The nurse instinctively began to decline upon hearing the first part of He Ao’s sentence, but she stopped abruptly after hearing the latter part.

"Not in need of what?"

He Ao looked at her quizzically.

"Not in need of patients,"

The nurse gave an awkward smile, picked up her wristband, and opened a dialogue box, "We have too many patients, perhaps we really do need money, but I am not clear about the specific situation of the hospital. I need to contact our director."

"Of course."

He Ao nodded, then turned his head to look again at the surrounding patients and nurses.

As he chatted with the nurse at the consultation desk, the other nurses around them gradually quieted down, but nobody, including the patients, lifted their heads to look at He Ao.

They continued just as before, immersed in their own activities, as if He Ao had never existed.

The nurse at the consultation desk quickly finished her conversation, then looked at He Ao,

"Our director has asked me to give you a tour first. He will join us shortly."

"That’s fine."

He Ao nodded.

"Shall we start with the medical equipment department?"

The nurse smiled as she stepped out from behind the consultation desk and asked casually, "How did you hear about our hospital?"

As she emerged from behind the desk, the lower half of her body, which had been obscured, became visible. Her pure white nurse’s dress reached just to her knees, and below where the dress ended, her calves were tightly cloaked in dull black stockings that continued up her thighs.

"I have a friend who was treated here,"

He Ao answered offhandedly, "His name is Allen Arent."

"Mr. Allen Arent?" The nurse at the consultation desk appeared surprised, "I know him. He was discharged a year ago."