Mu Sichen finally grasped the underlying logic of the town and Big Eye.

1. Proselytization: For reasons unknown, Big Eye required a critical mass of Followers to proclaim His glory; this was the sole purpose of the Followers and the Apostles.

2. Power: To increase His strength, Big Eye consumed the souls of “Degenerates”—free souls who refused to believe. The stronger the will of the victim, the more potent the nourishment.

3. Self-Preservation: To avoid being devoured by other God-level entities, Big Eye maintained the town as a protective shell. The “Pillars” were the structural supports of this shell, and they were fueled by the negative emotions—despair, grief, and agony—of sane human beings.

With this logic established, finding the Pillar became a matter of simple deduction. While Mu Sichen processed this, he listened to Shen Jiyue recount his arrival at the sanitarium.

Shen Jiyue had arrived with a companion. Both were classified as Patients, but they had split over the hospital’s rules. Shen Jiyue refused to harm anyone—he would not pollute a Family Member nor drive a Patient mad to save himself. His companion, however, believed sacrifice was necessary.

While Shen Jiyue remained “dormant” in his ward, his companion successfully became a Doctor to scout the facility.

“Sacrificed?” Mu Sichen asked.

Shen Jiyue gave a calm, albeit grotesque, smile. “The Pillars are located where despair is most concentrated. We analyzed the facility and concluded that the most likely location is the basement office—the place where patients process their discharge papers.”

“Why there?”

“Because there is no actual way to leave,” Shen Jiyue explained. “Contribution Points only buy you a temporary reprieve to rest at home before you’re forced back the next day. Tell me, when is a human most desperate?”

“When hope is within reach, only to be shattered,” Mu Sichen answered instantly.

Shen Jiyue’s frog-like eyes swiveled in a look of approval. “Exactly. We believe there is only one way to ‘truly’ leave this hospital: discharge.

“A patient thinks they are finally free. But at the moment of discharge, they don’t find the exit—they find their destruction. The Pillar feeds on that peak of absolute, final despair.”

Mu Sichen frowned. “But a prerequisite for discharge is becoming a devout Follower. If they are mad and willing to sacrifice themselves for Big Eye, why would they feel despair?”

Shen Jiyue looked at him with renewed skepticism. “You really lack common sense, don’t you? Faith and selfishness are not mutually exclusive. Madness and the craving for life can coexist perfectly.

“Followers worship the Great Existence for one reason: protection. Their faith is a deal to stay alive. No matter how insane they become, the core of their belief is that following Him guarantees survival. When that belief is betrayed at the moment of death, the despair is even more intense.

“Patients are people of strong will who refused to break. If they finally cave and betray their principles only to find it was all for nothing, can you imagine that agony? This is post-Cataclysm 101. How have you survived this long without knowing this?”

Mu Sichen could only offer an awkward laugh. He didn’t want to explain “Players” or “Transmigration” to someone in this state. In this world, players had no special status; they were just as edible as the locals.

Seeing Mu Sichen’s reluctance, Shen Jiyue added kindly, “Never mind. You have the Totem. If He trusts you, I trust you.”

Mu Sichen exhaled. Spending time with Shen Jiyue was surprisingly comfortable. He was intelligent, composed, and considerate. If one could ignore the fish-eye blisters, he was excellent company.

“You’ve spent a week gathering this. Why wait for me?” Mu Sichen asked. “You’re already a Patient. If you just ‘feigned’ faith, you could find the Pillar yourself, right?”

“If I surrender to faith, I go mad,” Shen Jiyue said. “And a madman cannot destroy a Pillar. Furthermore, to be ‘discharged,’ I would have to erase this Totem, losing the power to strike back. I needed a teammate who is resolute, adaptable, and clever. You fit the bill perfectly.”

Mu Sichen felt a flush of embarrassment at the praise. He followed the logic: “Your plan is for me to accompany you during your discharge, so I can face the Pillar and destroy it.”

“Talking to smart people is so much easier,” Shen Jiyue noted.

Mu Sichen’s brow furrowed. “But if we do that, you will…”

Shen Jiyue smiled serenely. “I have never feared sacrifice. I only fear a sacrifice without value.”

In that moment, looking past the horrific exterior, Mu Sichen caught a glimpse of the man Shen Jiyue used to be—handsome, noble, and clean. Even in this monstrous form, he remained “Clear Moon After Rain.”

Mu Sichen clenched his fists. He didn’t want Shen Jiyue to be a sacrificial lamb.

“Do you know what you need to do?” Shen Jiyue asked.

Mu Sichen nodded. “Find a way to amend the rules. Add a clause: ‘A Patient may be accompanied by a Family Member during discharge.’ Then, we move.”

Shen Jiyue laughed with relief. “It seems the heavens haven’t abandoned me. To find such a teammate right as I hit my limit… if luck is on our side, we finish this tonight.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mu Sichen promised.

According to Yao Wangping, the Doctors left the facility before 2:00 PM to hunt for new “Patients.” Between 2:00 PM and 7:30 PM, they returned for “Treatment,” sometimes assisted by Apostles.

Mu Sichen had three hours. He had to find the rule-book and add his clause. After 2:00 PM, Shen Jiyue would “surrender” to treatment, and Mu Sichen would escort him to the basement.

But Mu Sichen had a second, secret plan. He wanted to save Shen Jiyue.

Call him naive, call him a useless student of a peaceful era—he didn’t care. Shen Jiyue had shown him that in this twisted world, holding onto one’s principles was the only thing that mattered. He refused to accept the “logic” of this world. That stubbornness was the only thing separating him from the monsters.

With his pickaxe and Qin Zhou’s Totem, he had a fighting chance.

The corridors were silent. While Patients were locked in, Family, Volunteers, and Doctors could move—within limits. Doctors could leave the building before 2:00 PM; Volunteers followed strict shifts; Family Members were restricted to the 1st, 4th, and 7th floors.

Mu Sichen tried to take the stairs, but a thick mist blocked his path. Even the staircase itself seemed to vanish. He turned to the elevator.

“Going down? Which floor?”

The elevator attendant was a Volunteer with his eyes sewn shut. Two fleshy stalks protruded from his forehead like antennae, each tipped with a lidless eyeball.

A normal person would have lost their mind at the sight. Mu Sichen, having stared at Shen Jiyue for so long, found this relatively bearable. At least the guy didn’t smell like rotting fish.

“Fourth floor,” Mu Sichen said.

The Antennas-Volunteer pressed the button. Mu Sichen decided to make conversation. “Your eyes are quite unique. How did you get them?”

Most Volunteers looked normal; this guy was an outlier. Mu Sichen wanted to call them “beautiful” or “cute” to please him, but his conscience wouldn’t allow it. He settled for “unique.”

“Right!?” the Volunteer beamed, petting the eyes on his stalks. “I was born blind. I never knew what the world looked like. But after I helped Apostle Feather-Eye ‘cure’ a patient, he rewarded me with the patient’s eyes!”

The “frog-like” look made sense now. They were poached from a Patient like Shen Jiyue.

“Can you just… take a patient’s eyes after they’re discharged?”

“Sure! They have plenty,” the Volunteer said casually. “Apostle Feather-Eye ‘collects’ them all the time. If you want a pair like mine, just do some favors for him. He might give you a set if he’s in a good mood. Your eyes are so inconvenient—only seeing what’s in front. You should get a pair for the back of your head!”

Mu Sichen felt his SAN flicker. He pressed his hand to his chest and asked, “Is that why the Apostle has so many eyes?”

“Probably,” the Volunteer whispered as the doors opened on the 4th floor.

“Let’s chat again next time!” Mu Sichen said as he stepped out.

“Please! It’s so boring here, no one ever talks to me,” the Volunteer called out.

As the doors slid shut, Mu Sichen’s friendly mask dropped.

The Apostle didn’t just have eyes from Big Eye’s “blessing.” He was harvesting them. This sanitarium wasn’t just a “farm for despair” or a home for the Pillar; it was a nursery for monsters, using the strongest-willed humans as soil.

The 4th floor housed the Doctors’ offices. Mu Sichen bypassed the wards and headed for the office of Shen Jiyue’s primary physician. He remembered Yao Wangping looking for something in an office; that was likely where the rules could be edited.

The name on the door was Dr. Ke Yi.

He knocked. It was before 2:00 PM, so the office should be empty. If no one answered, he’d break in.

Instead, the door opened immediately.

Standing there was someone Mu Sichen recognized: the girl from the plaza who had hallucinated and nearly gouged her own eyes out.

He looked at her name tag. It read: Doctor: Ke Yi.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou: Mu Sichen touched his chest today. If we round that up, he touched my Totem. If we round that up again… he touched ME!

Mu Sichen: Whatever makes you happy.