The sensation was a mix of intense relief and the gnawing anxiety of having taken out a predatory payday loan.

The stronger Qin Zhou proved to be, the more uneasy Mu Sichen felt. He wasn’t about to believe that a being titled “Humanity’s Guardian” was a selfless deity like Pangu or Nüwa. His time in Pupil Town had taught him that dealing with these “Gods” always came with a price.

While Qin Zhou gained followers from their deal, Mu Sichen looked at the shimmering silver Ego Stickers and felt that ten converts weren’t nearly enough to pay back the “interest” on the energy he’d borrowed. Still, he didn’t hesitate. He converted ten volunteers in one go before stopping. A future, unknown debt was a problem for tomorrow; surviving the current crisis was the priority for today.

With ten stickers in hand, Mu Sichen exhaled. These stickers would at least keep their minds from snapping.

Because they were forged with energy directly siphoned from Qin Zhou, they were far more potent than the ones he’d made using the radio. If his own energy produced Level 1 stickers and the radio produced Level 10, these were at least Level 30. With one of these, he could probably stare at Big Eye for ten seconds before going blind.

Only ten seconds, he thought with a wry smile. The power gap is just absurd.

“Is that enough?” Chi Lian asked, poking her head into the office. “Do I need to lure any more in?”

“No, that’s plenty.”

Mu Sichen had a gut feeling he’d need more, but the time wasn’t right for an all-out war. They needed to stay low. Converting ten was already pushing the limit of what they could hide.

As he unsummoned the pickaxe, his MP bar reverted from “∞” to a measly 4. He took one of the silver stickers and pressed it to the nape of his neck. The silver light flared and sank into his skin. Instantly, his MP bar hit a new cap: 300.

[Congratulations! Player has discovered the upgrade method. By using one ‘Foundation-Grade’ Ego Sticker, player has leveled up from Level 1 to Level 2. Ego Sticker Grades Unlocked.]

[Grades: Foundation, Pillar, Star-Hoarder, Sun-Eater, Heaven-Veiler. Anything below Foundation is ‘Scrap-Grade’ and cannot be used for leveling.]

[Players below Level 10 can use Foundation-Grade stickers to level up.]

Mu Sichen finally understood. He didn’t get “EXP” from killing monsters; he got stickers. To level up or increase his energy capacity, he had to consume the very tools he used to fight. It was a vicious cycle. Worse, he realized that he currently lacked the power to create “Foundation-Grade” stickers on his own. He was entirely dependent on Qin Zhou’s “loan.”

I hate having my life held in someone else’s hand, he thought, suppressing his anxiety.

He turned to the ten converts.

“You are the Envoy of General Qin. Please, command us,” the ten new “Patients” said, kneeling before him.

“Whoa, Captain! You’re incredible!” Chi Lian cheered. “Our team just got huge! Our odds are way better now!”

Her face fell as she looked at their name tags. “Wait… they’re all Patients now. We needed Volunteers, didn’t we? Was all that work for nothing?”

“No,” Mu Sichen said. “The conditions for our move are set.”

He gathered Chi Lian and the ten converts. “Chi Lian, do you know how to register a patient? We need to log one of them under Ke Yi’s name.”

A Doctor needed nine patients to be discharged. Ke Yi already had eight. By registering one more, Chi Lian—who had stolen Ke Yi’s identity—could qualify for discharge.

“I know how. I just need to press their thumbprint onto Ke Yi’s log and have ‘Ke Yi’ sign it,” Chi Lian said.

The converts were terrifyingly compliant. One stepped forward immediately and filled out his information.

The sight made Mu Sichen’s stomach turn.

When Shen Jiyue chose to be polluted, it was an act of will—a sacrifice for a cause. Mu Sichen respected that. But these converts… they lacked autonomy. They followed orders like machines, never questioning the danger. They had become “tools,” and Mu Sichen was the one using them.

He wasn’t a “Saint.” He wouldn’t stop the mission and risk his friends’ lives over a vague feeling of discomfort. He carried the weight of two lives and the trust of a comrade; he couldn’t afford to be sentimental.

But he promised himself he would remember this feeling. He couldn’t start viewing these people as tools just because they were “monsters.” The moment he did, he would have accepted the logic of this world.

Guilt is heavy, he thought. But I have to carry it. It’s the only thing that keeps me from becoming just another cold-blooded monster in this world.

Once the info was filled, Chi Lian hesitated over the signature. “Captain, my handwriting is different from Ke Yi’s. It might not work. Maybe she has to sign it herself?”

“Use your ‘Cut’ ability. Take her signature from the diary and ‘Paste’ it onto the registry,” Mu Sichen suggested.

“But I’m at zero energy,” Chi Lian said. “It costs 120.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll lend it to you,” Mu Sichen replied. “Just ask me for help in your mind. But don’t do it yet. Wait until I say ‘Sign.’ Keep the diary and the form with you.”

The moment the signature was pasted, Chi Lian might be “discharged” instantly. He wasn’t ready for that variable yet. He needed everything in place first.

“So that 20 energy earlier was from you!” Chi Lian’s eyes shone with trust. “You saved me again without me even knowing!”

Mu Sichen: “…”

Why do I feel like my wallet just grew wings and flew away?

“I can lend it to you, but don’t just spend it on a whim,” Mu Sichen warned. “I need my energy for skills too. Only borrow when I tell you to, okay?”

“Got it!” Chi Lian chirped. “Wait, Captain, how much do you have? Is it enough for one more skill? I could turn someone into a Volunteer!”

Mu Sichen had 300 MP. Exactly enough for two of Chi Lian’s skills. It was as if his level-up had been designed specifically to fund her.

“I can fund two more uses, but we need the right teammate. These guys won’t work.”

From the converts, Mu Sichen learned that Volunteers never truly “discharged.” Instead, they “cured” patients to earn eyes. Once they had ten pairs, they were promoted to “Followers” and moved to other roles. It was just another trap.

“I wish we hadn’t lost Cheng Xubo,” Chi Lian sighed. “He would have been a great teammate.”

Cheng Xubo was the player with the cart Mu Sichen had saved earlier.

“He might be here,” Mu Sichen said. It wasn’t just optimism; it was logic. He, Yao Wangping, and Chi Lian had all started at different times and been lost in the mist, yet they all ended up at the sanitarium. It felt as if the facility itself was a magnet, pulling people in to feed the Pillar.

“Really?” Chi Lian didn’t question him. “I wonder what his role would be?”

“Likely a ‘Family Member’,” Mu Sichen said. He had used the sticker he got from saving Cheng Xubo on himself to stabilize his SAN, so Cheng Xubo had no protection and no conflicting faith. The hospital would default him to Family.

“It’s a shame there are no phones or ‘Friend Lists’ in this game,” Chi Lian complained. “This world is so primitive.”

“We’ll find him. In the meantime, we need to find someone else we can trust. And I still need to find out how to edit the rules.”

He turned to the ten converts. “Lock the door. Don’t let anyone in but us. And keep an eye on the ‘Patient’ on the floor. Don’t let her escape.”

The converts nodded in unison.

As Mu Sichen stepped out, he heard the satisfying click of the door being deadbolted. Having obedient subordinates was a dangerous ego boost. He clutched his chest, reminding himself to stay humble and keep a “human” heart.

With an “Attending Physician” as his companion, exploring became much easier. Chi Lian grabbed Ke Yi’s medical files and boldly led Mu Sichen through the wards. Since Mu Sichen was restricted to floors 1, 4, and 7, they checked the three patients on the 4th floor first.

The situation there was grim. The patients were in the throes of madness, screaming and throwing anything they could reach at Chi Lian the moment they saw her name tag.

Mu Sichen and the “Family Members” had to step in. The Family Members were desperate, hoping the Doctor would finally find a “cure” so they could be promoted. They helped Mu Sichen tie the patients down with ropes. Their eyes were full of a frantic, pathetic hope that made Mu Sichen sick.

“No wonder they need so many Volunteers,” Chi Lian said, sliding to the floor in the hallway once they were clear. “The patients are too violent for Family Members to handle alone.”

“Exactly,” Mu Sichen mused. “The four roles form a self-balancing ecosystem. Each one is necessary to keep the trap running.”

“We won’t find any sane Volunteers on this floor,” Chi Lian suggested. “Let’s check the lobby.”

They took the elevator to the first floor. As the doors opened, they saw a man standing in front of the “Management Rules” board, pen in hand, frantically scribbling a new rule.

It was Cheng Xubo.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou (excitedly waving tentacles): Chen-chen, look at me! Am I useful?

Mu Sichen: I hate how much I’m starting to like this ‘premium’ service.