My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 627: Paranoia

Chapter 627: Chapter 627: Paranoia

"You’re awake? The effects of the medication passed so quickly?" Doctor Fu approached the bed, surprised to see Han Fei fully awake.

Compared to the doctor, the middle-aged woman had an even greater reaction. She hurried to Han Fei’s side, extending her hands to check on his condition.

Those hands had been injured by someone, the wounds were deep. The woman noticed this too, and after remembering what the doctor had said earlier, quickly withdrew her hands.

"It seems he has calmed down now." Doctor Fu gestured to the nurse, who then released Han Fei from his restraints, giving him his freedom.

"Complete blood count, urinalysis, MRI of the brain, electroencephalogram, everything is normal. We can now rule out any organic brain damage such as head injury. Staying here any longer doesn’t make much sense, and there’s the daily hospitalization fee. I personally suggest you take him home," Doctor Fu was a very nice person, highly considerate of the patient and his family. "Treatment at home might even have better results, after all, that’s an environment he’s familiar with, and it may reduce his inner fear."

"Okay, thank you, Doctor Fu," the middle-aged woman said, thanking him repeatedly.

Lying in the hospital bed, Han Fei also heard the name "Doctor Fu." A nerve in his brain seemed to be triggered, and his gaze shifted to Doctor Fu.

Even though he was supposed to be seeing this person for the first time, Han Fei couldn’t shake the feeling that the other party intended to kill him. That benevolent face seemed like it could reveal a sinister and venomous expression in the next second.

"He doesn’t want to save me; he wants to kill me!"

A thought surfaced, and Han Fei struggled to sit up on the hospital bed. He needed to escape as soon as possible.

"Take him home, communicate with him well, and remember to pay attention to the instructions I provided. Also, ensure that he takes his medicines on time." Doctor Fu consoled the middle-aged woman before he and the nurse left.

It wasn’t until the doctor left the ward that Han Fei’s nerves finally began to relax.

"Han Fei..." The middle-aged woman sat by the bed. She knew her child was in danger. Even though she had just been attacked not long ago, she still sat as close to Han Fei as possible.

"Han Fei?" Han Fei repeated the name, which he presumed to be his own, but aside from that name, he couldn’t remember anything else.

"You stay here by yourself for a moment; I’ll take care of the discharge procedures." The woman walked to the wardrobe and took out Han Fei’s own clothes. "I’ll be back soon."

The woman left, and the ward was left with just Han Fei, who blankly lowered his head, staring at the palm of his hand and the whorls of fingerprints.

"I, Han Fei?"

A creaking sound came from above. Attracted by the noise, Han Fei looked up to see the hospital ward fan continuously spinning.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at the fan, his complexion turning pale.

He had the persistent feeling that the fan might fall at any moment, the rapidly spinning metal blades would slash his neck and sever his head.

With slightly stiff fingers, Han Fei moved his body. Barefooted, he stepped onto the floor and crouched beside the bed.

The fan kept turning. The switch was far away, and Han Fei couldn’t stop staring at the fan, with cold sweat increasingly appearing on his cheeks. Hiding beside the bed didn’t seem safe, so he hid underneath it.

Curling up, Han Fei felt ever more anxious as he looked at the emptiness of the ward.

He couldn’t remember anything, and it seemed like he was the only one left here.

His breathing became rapid, and he hugged his arms around his chest. The unease in his heart slowly magnified until he was almost gasping for air, and that was when the middle-aged woman who had run out earlier returned.

"Han Fei?"

With the discharge papers in hand, the woman immediately saw Han Fei. She pushed aside the bed and helped him up.

"The doctor said there’s nothing majorly wrong with you. Don’t think too much, just rest well for a while," the woman helped Han Fei into his clothes. She supported Han Fei with one hand and carried a big bag of daily necessities with the other. "Take your time."

The woman accompanied Han Fei as they walked out of the ward. When they reached the first floor, strange noises suggested something had happened upstairs.

Exiting the hospital, the clamor hit them instantly, causing Han Fei to take several steps back.

"It’s okay, I will protect you."

Under the woman’s guidance, Han Fei stepped out of the hospital again. His eyes were shaking, his gaze was constantly drawn to different sounds, looking at various objects, every nerve taut.

"Relax, don’t think too much." The woman gently patted Han Fei’s back, making him walk inside the sidewalk, while she walked on the outside.

With a blank mind, Han Fei couldn’t remember anything. Everything around him brought deep fear.

Perhaps a speeding car might suddenly lose control and slam into him; perhaps a car would stop beside him, and its passengers would abduct him; or maybe at this very moment, someone was following closely behind him.

Every step was difficult to take, this strange world seemed to offer nothing but endless fear.

"Come, let’s slowly make our way home." The woman took Han Fei’s hand, showing great patience as she accompanied him.

Without hurrying or speaking harshly, if Han Fei stood still, she would also stop.

So with intermittent walking and pausing, it took nearly forty minutes for the woman to bring Han Fei to the entrance of an apartment complex.

This complex was old and large, several tube-shaped buildings huddled together, creating an oppressive feel.

Han Fei stopped in front of the complex’s gate, looking at the old residential buildings. He felt like they were about to collapse onto him, burying him alive.

"Han Fei, we’re home, almost there."

The word home rang in Han Fei’s ears as he slowly turned his head to look at the woman. After hesitating for a moment, he followed the middle-aged woman into the residential complex.

"Morning! Taking the kid to work again?" The community security guard, a chubby-faced man in his thirties, was very enthusiastic, greeting everyone he saw.

"We’ve just got off work," the middle-aged woman replied with a smile and then walked into Building 4 with Han Fei.

The woman seemed to know that Han Fei never used the elevator. She went straight to the security passage door and led Han Fei up the staircase.

The noisy sounds from the outside world gradually faded, and Han Fei grew quieter as well.

They went all the way up to the ninth floor and stopped in front of room 4904.

The sound of the key turning in the lock made Han Fei somewhat uncomfortable. He looked at the door number and felt an inexplicable urge to flee.

"You’re home now, don’t stand outside."

"This... this isn’t my home," Han Fei said with dry lips, speaking softly.

The middle-aged woman gently grabbed Han Fei’s arm. She didn’t refute his words but comforted him softly, "Rest up, don’t think about too much, just clear your mind."

Entering the house, Han Fei looked around the room warily.

The crowded living room was filled with various pieces of furniture, and near the door, there were two sets of torn and tattered mascot costumes. It seemed like someone in this home was an actor who played mascots in Paradise.

"Go rest in your room; I’ll get the food ready soon," the middle-aged woman said as she closed the door. Han Fei was still standing still as if he had forgotten where his own room was: "It’s over here, nothing’s wrong, it will all be fine."

Han Fei’s bedroom was at the deepest part of the apartment, cluttered with various things.

Han Fei apparently didn’t like others entering his room, so the middle-aged woman left after seeing Han Fei enter.

In this house, the innermost bedroom was Han Fei’s own space.

Sitting blankly on the bed, nothing around him gave any sense of familiarity. He caressed the bedsheets and noticed some script pages haphazardly thrown on the bed.

Picking them up, he saw the beginning of a script written on them.

"That day, I found out that all the stories I wrote had become reality."

"The first story from ten years ago was about a closet."

"Whenever I stood with my back to the closet, the closet doors would crack open slightly, and I knew someone was hiding inside."

Just by reading the first line, Han Fei immediately turned to look behind him.

The closet was next to the single bed, very close to his desk. Whenever he leaned over his desk to write, the closet was right behind him.

Getting up, Han Fei opened the closet door to find nothing but a few clothes and boxes of old books.

"Books?"

Han Fei picked one up to read through it; it was about the basics of acting.

He had forgotten everything, but he felt familiar with the content of the book, even his facial expressions relaxed unconsciously.

"Am I an actor?" Han Fei turned his head towards the mascot costumes by the living room door: "A Paradise cartoon mascot actor?"

Dragging the cardboard box, Han Fei tried to pull it out when the hanging clothes in the closet seemed to flutter as if blown by the wind, suddenly shaking.

Han Fei froze in his movements, staring at the clothes in the closet as if realizing something. He kept backing away until his back bumped into the window.

The room was eerily quiet, and the clothes in the closet stopped moving.

Listening to the howling wind outside, Han Fei turned and glanced behind him.

The windowsill was quite low, and the concrete ground below seemed to magnify in Han Fei’s eyes. It seemed as if someone only needed to give him a slight push, and he’d fall straight down, crashing onto that concrete.

Breathing heavily, Han Fei clutched the windowsill, veins bulging on the back of his hands. He felt as if this wasn’t the first time he stood here. Images of him falling to the ground in different positions flooded his Brain Sea!

Bodies lay on the hard gray concrete in various poses, blood continually flowing around them. The corpses seemed to come to life this way!

A sharp pain shot through his brain, and Han Fei cried out, "This isn’t the first time I’ve died!"

"Han Fei?"

The middle-aged woman rushed over from the kitchen. She quickly pulled Han Fei away from the window and drew the thick curtains shut.

"Han Fei, don’t overthink things, just rest for a while."