If his hypothesis was correct, finding the “Pillar” would be nearly impossible through conventional means, as it possessed no physical form. Mu Sichen’s brow furrowed.

“Now that I think about it, I felt that gaze while I was pushing my patient’s bed,” Cheng Xubo added. “It wasn’t just a light glance; it was more like someone glaring at me. The intercom broadcast went off immediately after.”

Mu Sichen looked at Cheng Xubo, a plan finally crystallizing in his mind.

“Whoa, that harsh?” Chi Lian said, trying to keep her tone light. “You only pushed a patient out the door. Why did you get a glare while the three of us wallowing in despair only got a passing glance?”

Cheng Xubo replied, “Applying my professional logic, it’s essentially an automated error-correction code. Imagine a game where you top up a hundred dollars. The program records the transaction but doesn’t flag it; a hundred bucks is a drop in the bucket. But if there’s a bug in the payment system itself—no matter how small—the program will scream. It has to, because that bug threatens all future revenue.”

Chi Lian nodded. “So us being depressed was just a standard ‘transaction’—the sanitarium recording its income. But you moving that patient was like messing with the billing system. The sanitarium caught the error and glared at you.”

“Exactly,” Cheng Xubo agreed.

Translating the horrors of the sanitarium into the logic of the modern world helped them keep their spirits up. Their banter, however, gave Mu Sichen the final piece of his puzzle.

The plan was suicide. If he slipped, he would be polluted instantly, becoming a permanent battery for the Pillar. But it was the only path to success, and as the strategist, he refused to let anyone else take the fall for his gambit.

In this automated, brainless facility, nothing offered better protection than the Rules. He looked at the supplementary board, thinking of how to forge a rule that would shield him.

To add a rule, one had to target the “billing system”—the Patients. But Mu Sichen needed a rule that protected the actions of a Volunteer. How could he bridge that gap?

He looked at the first rule Yao Wangping had added: ‘Medical staff may enter any room.’ How did a cold-blooded pragmatist like Yao trigger that?

Mu Sichen put himself in Yao’s shoes. Yao had power, the Totem, and likely a sacrificial pawn. He would have staged a “bug.” Perhaps he had a teammate start “purifying” a patient—an act the sanitarium couldn’t allow, as despair must only increase, never decrease. The system would panic, demanding a “patch.” Yao would then step in, offering a rule that allowed him to enter the room to “stop” the purification. In the end, the teammate would be sacrificed, and Yao would gain the freedom to move through the building.

As this simulation played out in his mind, Mu Sichen’s left eye began to throb.

Visions flashed before him. He saw Yao Wangping dragging a patient out of a restroom; the patient’s blisters had partially faded. Yao whispered something to the man, whose eyes went vacant as the blisters surged back with a vengeance. Then, the hollowed-out patient walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement.

What is this? Mu Sichen wondered, clutching his eye.

Had he successfully “seen” the past because he correctly deduced the logic behind it? The power he stole from Big Eye seemed to have three facets:

1. Omnipresence: Seeing events within his range even without looking (like the death of the players).

2. Essence-Sight: Seeing things others couldn’t (like the souls and the Totem).

3. Cognitive-Sight: Seeing the past once he understood the “truth” of an event.

Summarized: If I want to see it, I can; all is visible; and what I know, I see.

This meant that once “Day” broke and Big Eye opened His lids, He would be able to “see” everything they did during the night with perfect clarity. They didn’t have a second night. It was now or never.

“I’m going to add a rule,” Mu Sichen declared. “‘Volunteers must not be harmed, and their actions must not be obstructed.’“

“Why that?” Chi Lian asked. “Won’t that stop us from converting volunteers into stickers?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of stickers,” Mu Sichen smiled.

“But how do we trigger it?” Cheng Xubo asked. “We beat up ten of them and the hospital didn’t blink.”

“Because we turned them into Patients,” Mu Sichen explained. “The system loves more patients. It won’t stop you from ‘depositing’ more money.”

“So… should I go punch the elevator guy?” Cheng Xubo asked.

“No. Volunteers are sentient; they’ll just call for backup. We need to use the patients. They are the ‘billing system’.”

Mu Sichen laid out the plan: “We find a patient and a volunteer. The volunteer will act like they are ‘healing’ the patient, while a third party interrupts them—violently. The system will see a ‘transaction’ about to complete, only to be glitched by an outside force. It will demand a patch to protect its ‘staff’ so the transaction can finish.”

“So we’ve got to play-fight?” Chi Lian asked.

“Exactly. And for this to work, I need to be the Volunteer.”

Chi Lian didn’t hesitate. “I’ll need a loan, Captain.”

“Take what you need.” With 300 MP, Mu Sichen could afford the swap.

They found a lone Volunteer mopping a restroom. With a shimmer of her shears, Chi Lian “Cut and Pasted” their identities. The Volunteer became Family Member: Sha Dayan, while Mu Sichen became Volunteer: Zhang Sansan.

“I’m so jealous you guys can share a bank account,” Cheng Xubo sighed. “Is that a team skill? Can I join?”

It’s not sharing; she’s just raiding my wallet without asking, Mu Sichen thought sadly. “Not yet. Joining now would turn you into a Patient. I’ll explain the ‘terms and conditions’ once we’re safe. Then you can decide if you want in.”

“Fair enough. Where do we find a cooperative patient?”

“The seventh floor,” Mu Sichen said. “We’re going to see my patient.”

“Wait, the seventh floor belongs to Dr. Yao Wangping,” Cheng Xubo noted. “That’s where my patient’s doctor is.”

Then we have to move fast, Mu Sichen realized. If Yao was on that floor, he might already be “harvesting” his own teammates.

The trio reached Room 704. Mu Sichen told the other two to wait for the signal. He took a breath and pushed open the door.

Shen Jiyue was sitting on the bed, waiting for him in the dark.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou: Is this a joke? I have so much presence that I’m the most handsome guy in the room even with my eyes closed. Chen-chen can find me in his sleep.

Big Eye: Without me, Mu Sichen wouldn’t even look at you!

Mu Sichen: Big Eye has a point.