After knocking Ke Yi unconscious, Chi Lian had been paralyzed with fear, unsure of her next move. Then, as if by divine intervention, her savior appeared before her once again.

Her gratitude swelled into something akin to worship. She gazed at him with shimmering eyes, only to find him looking back at her with a peculiar expression—as if she personally owed him eight million dollars.

Confused, Chi Lian checked herself for injuries. “Savior, is something wrong? Am I… polluted?”

“No, you’re fine,” Mu Sichen sighed.

He was the one who wasn’t fine. He was still reeling from the loss of those 20 energy points and had a sudden, powerful urge to peel the Ego Sticker right off the back of her neck.

Are followers just parasites meant to fleece me for energy? he wondered. What’s the point?

There had to be more to it. Perhaps at this early stage, he was simply the “startup founder” paying out of pocket to keep the talent. Once his numbers grew—or once he cleared the “Pillar” novice quest—maybe he could finally start collecting interest. For now, he viewed Chi Lian as a “debtor teammate” who would likely keep asking for loans.

“Let’s focus on the mission,” Mu Sichen said. “Did the system give you a task when you entered?”

“Yes,” Chi Lian answered, her trust absolute. “Initially, it told me to find the ‘Pillar’ and establish a ‘Security Department.’ But then, the objective suddenly changed.”

“To what?”

“To ‘Assist the player Mu Sichen in establishing his Ideal Town.’ Savior, who is Mu Sichen? Do you know him?”

Mu Sichen paused. “…That would be me.”

His current name tag read “Sha Dayan,” so it made sense she hadn’t made the connection.

“That’s amazing!” Chi Lian chirped. “I was actually a bit annoyed when the task changed. I thought, ‘Why do I have to help some random player?’ But if it’s you, then you’re my Captain! Just tell me what to do!”

“When exactly did the task change?”

“I noticed it after I left the plaza. I was too busy being terrified by the Apostle to check my panels before then.”

Right after the Ego Sticker was applied, Mu Sichen noted.

Despite the drain on his energy, having a teammate who was 100% loyal and possessed a unique ability was a net positive. He comforted himself with that thought. More importantly, Chi Lian was currently a “Doctor.”

Thanks to Yao Wangping’s rule amendment, Doctors could enter any room. And since the real Dr. Ke Yi had been swapped into a “Patient” role… they might not even need to add more rules to infiltrate the discharge office in the basement.

They could just “treat” Ke Yi and have Chi Lian escort her down. But there was a catch: “treating” a patient meant validating Big Eye’s logic, which would pollute them both. Furthermore, destroying a Pillar required a God’s power. Chi Lian was his follower, and Mu Sichen wasn’t nearly strong enough to lend her the power to shatter a Pillar.

That path was a dead end. But having an unpolluted Doctor on the team was a wild card he knew would eventually pay off.

“Captain Mu,” Chi Lian said, quickly adopting the new title. “I found something while searching Ke Yi’s office.” She handed him a notebook.

Mu Sichen stared at it. Why does everyone in Pupil Town keep a diary?

Chi Lian flipped to a middle page. “It says here that the Director—Apostle Feather-Eye—told Dr. Ke Yi that once nine ‘lost children’ return to the embrace of the ‘Sky Eye,’ the doctor can be discharged.”

Mu Sichen looked at the page, but he saw nothing of the sort. To him, it looked like a mess of scribbled medical jargon—the typical chicken-scratch of a real-world physician.

“Ke Yi wrote that she’s already found eight,” Chi Lian continued. “She was going to find the last one today. If I’m the ninth, then since I’ve taken her identity, can’t I just leave?”

Mu Sichen frowned. “I can’t see those words.”

He took out his own pen and paper, copied exactly what he saw, and showed it to her.

Chi Lian stared at his drawing. “Captain… what are these squiggles? Can’t you see the diary? The handwriting is perfectly neat!”

“If you’re telling the truth, there’s only one answer,” Mu Sichen said, his face darkening. “Only Medical Staff can read the entries left by other doctors.”

“I swear on the sticker on my neck, I’d never lie to you!” Chi Lian looked ready to cut off a finger to prove her sincerity.

“I don’t doubt you,” Mu Sichen said.

If Chi Lian were a mindless zealot, he might have suspected she was brainwashed. But since she was a “Gold-Devouring Beast” fueled by his own energy, he found her strangely trustworthy. You couldn’t “leech” power from him without genuine faith. It was a heartbreaking realization—he needed to find a way to increase his energy cap and recovery speed, or he’d go bankrupt just keeping her alive.

“I knew you’d believe me!” Chi Lian beamed.

Mu Sichen, however, was far from happy. This revelation made him rethink everything Shen Jiyue had told him. Not because he doubted Shen Jiyue’s character, but because he doubted the accuracy of his information.

If Patients, Family, and Doctors all saw different versions of reality, was anyone seeing the whole picture?

Mingmu (Clear-Sight) Sanitarium… what kind of person could actually “clear their sight” here?

Shen Jiyue believed only Patients could leave, so the Pillar must be in the discharge office. But he only knew that because he was a Patient. Chi Lian, as a Doctor, saw a different exit strategy in the diary. Even Yao Wangping had been obsessed with those medical logs.

Could it be that all four roles—Patient, Family, Volunteer, and Doctor—had their own “exit,” but because they were in opposition and saw different texts, none of them could see the truth?

Big Eye was the “Sky Eye.” His power involved obscuring vision with mist and creating hallucinations. It would be trivial for Him to make different people see different words.

“We’re short-handed,” Mu Sichen said suddenly. “I need more people.”

“There was another player who followed us from the plaza,” Chi Lian suggested. “The guy with the cart. You saved him too. If he made it here, maybe we can recruit him?”

Mu Sichen shook his head. “Even if he’s here, he’d be a Family Member. We already have a Patient, a Family Member, and a Doctor. I need a Volunteer. But Volunteers are devout Followers… that’s the problem.”

“We can just turn a Family Member into a Volunteer,” Chi Lian said, pointing to her shears. “I just need to swap the tags.”

“You’re out of energy,” Mu Sichen reminded her. “And even at full power, you don’t have enough to bridge that gap.”

Chi Lian looked at him with sparkling expectation. “But Captain Mu, surely you have a way?”

Mu Sichen: “…”

He clutched his chest. It hurt. Startup bosses are broke too! His cap was only 100 points; he couldn’t sustain this. But without a Volunteer’s perspective, they were flying blind.

As he agonized, he felt another sharp twinge against his ribs. The octopus totem was flicking him again.

Whether General Qin could hear them or was just bored, he was clearly prodding Mu Sichen to move. Mu Sichen suspected the latter. Qin Zhou probably couldn’t read his inner thoughts without direct contact, but He definitely wanted more followers.

If Qin Zhou is offering, I might as well be greedy, Mu Sichen thought.

He turned to Chi Lian. “We can’t do this in the open. Go lure some Volunteers to the office. Tell them… tell them there’s a patient who needs to be moved and you need their help.”

As a Doctor, Chi Lian had the authority. She sprinted out immediately.

Mu Sichen summoned his pickaxe and stood behind the door. Moments later, the door creaked open and a Volunteer stepped inside.

Mu Sichen swung with everything he had. As he raised the tool, a massive surge of energy flooded from his chest into the pickaxe. It was the power Qin Zhou had “lent” him.

If he could see his status bar now, his MP cap would be marked as ∞.

The pickaxe slammed down. A blue number flashed: -2,847.

A single “Undermine” strike had just drained nearly three thousand of Qin Zhou’s energy points.

A silver, shimmering Ego Sticker fell into Mu Sichen’s palm. For the first time, the pattern was crystal clear. It depicted a pair of hands—or perhaps wings—unfurled over three symbols representing the Sky, the Sea, and the Earth.

It was a symbol of hands that neither sky, sea, nor earth could bind. A hand that grasped its own destiny.

My own totem, Mu Sichen thought with a wry smile. And I had to borrow a God’s power just to see it.

The Volunteer hit the floor, but a tentacle mark appeared on the back of his head, instantly sealing the wound from the pickaxe. The man scrambled to his knees, looking toward the horizon with a solemn expression. “General Qin… I will liberate Pupil Town. I will bring peace.”

Mu Sichen: “…”

A literal mass-conversion event.

Fortunately, Big Eye’s lids were closed during the “Night.” They had to destroy the Pillar before “Day” arrived.

Unfortunately, the Volunteer’s name tag immediately shifted to “Patient.” By converting him, he lost his Volunteer status. This method wouldn’t give them the perspective they needed.

Just then, the diligent Chi Lian lured in a second Volunteer.

Mu Sichen swung again. But this Volunteer was stronger; he had eyes in the back of his head. He dodged the strike and began to shriek: “Dege—”

Before he could finish the word “Degenerate,” the first converted Volunteer lunged forward and covered his mouth. The new convert looked at Mu Sichen with a grave nod. “I will assist you. Proceed!”

Mu Sichen: “…”

He swung again. Another -3,126 energy points deducted from Qin Zhou’s account. A second silver sticker appeared, and a second “Patient” was born.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou (excitedly waving tentacles): Chen-chen, see how useful I am?

Mu Sichen: I’m slightly disgusted, but… damn, this is some good service.