The One-Eyed Man approached from afar.
Director Hao greeted him with a smile. "How did it go? Smooth conversation? Judging by your face, I'd say you came back empty-handed."
The One-Eyed Man's expression was stony. He said nothing.
"I knew it," Director Hao continued. "You got nothing because you started off wrong. These people—patients, in your eyes—aren't 'normal.' Did you begin by asking them straight out about the evil entity?"
"How did you know?" asked the One-Eyed Man.
Patting him on the shoulder, Director Hao said, "Don't ask me how I know. You made a fundamental mistake. You can't just interrogate them—you have to become one of them."
"What do you mean?" the One-Eyed Man asked.
"Did they ask anything of you? Perhaps request you do something, or offer to do something for you?"
"They did." His face remained impassive, solemn as ever.
"Then you should have agreed. Only by joining their world will you learn what you seek," said Director Hao, speaking from professional experience.
"Trust me—I'm an expert. To the mentally ill, the idea of friendship is sacred. If they see you as a friend, they may not show warmth in the usual sense, but they will never betray you."
"Sometimes, it may seem like they're causing harm—but often, it's just a misdirected form of care."
The One-Eyed Man frowned. "I understand every word you're saying… but together, none of it makes sense."
Director Hao chuckled. "That's because I'm a professional."
The One-Eyed Man fell silent.
Fair enough. He had a point.
There is a difference between a professional and an amateur.
Soon—
The One-Eyed Man sat once more on the bench, watching Lin Fan and Old Zhang. Remembering Director Hao's advice, he said, "I think… I need your treatment."
Lin Fan and Old Zhang exchanged a glance—serious, intense.
"Are you ready for this?"
"I am."
"Galactic Circulation Technique?"
"No. Half-Step Universal Circulation Technique."
The One-Eyed Man couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying.
Something felt… off.
But he couldn't pinpoint what. As he saw Old Zhang approaching with silver needles in hand, he felt nothing. No fear. If anything, amusement.
Fine.
He'd humor them for now.
With his current cultivation, he could take a direct hit from an armor-piercing round and walk away. What threat could a few acupuncture needles possibly pose?
Not far away—
Director Hao pulled out his phone. He opened the dialer, entered a number, and hovered a finger over the call button. Don't ask him why.
If you must have an answer—
Call it a hunch.
He moved like a man who had done this before.
Back on the bench, the One-Eyed Man looked down at the needles in his arm. "What is this?"
"Half-Step Universal Circulation Technique," Old Zhang replied.
"He's good," Lin Fan added.
"Half-Step Universal Circulation Technique?" The One-Eyed Man's arm tingled faintly. He knew this was rooted in traditional Chinese medicine—but inmates at a psychiatric hospital practicing acupuncture?
Ridiculous.
Old Zhang nodded seriously. "I've studied for years, sought the guidance of countless masters. A professor from the neighboring starfield inspired me. I fused theory and inspiration, and created this technique. Everyone who's received it says it's amazing."
"Are you feeling anything yet?"
The One-Eyed Man responded, "A slight tingling."
"Perfect." Old Zhang nodded in satisfaction, then moved to insert a needle into the One-Eyed Man's head. "Relax. This is a cutting-edge technique. You're lucky—you're the first."
The One-Eyed Man smirked confidently. "Don't worry. I'm not nervous. You can't hurt me."
Lin Fan said, "I haven't even gotten my turn yet."
Old Zhang scratched his head. "True. I'll treat you too. I can multitask."
"Great." Lin Fan beamed with anticipation.
As time passed—
The One-Eyed Man stayed vigilant. These patients were harmless—on the surface. But having your skull turned into a pincushion was no trivial matter. He needed to be prepared for anything.
The thirteenth needle.
Technique complete.
Old Zhang stared at him. "Feel anything?"
The One-Eyed Man—rarely expressive—let out a bitter laugh. He felt like a fool. Playing along with mental patients? What was he doing?
Feel something?
What was there to feel?
He was one of the strongest in Yan Hai City. What could a few needles possibly do to him?
You must be joking—
Suddenly—
His expression changed.
In a flash, a strange sensation surged through his brain. He had no idea what acupuncture points Old Zhang had struck, but his head felt like it was about to explode.
Boom!
He collapsed, face-first, motionless.
It happened too fast.
Even he couldn't react in time. His mind went blank, consciousness vanishing.
Boom!
A second thud.
Lin Fan crumpled to the ground. The needle placements on his head bore no resemblance to the One-Eyed Man's. Old Zhang had chosen locations purely by intuition—stabbing wherever displeased him.
"What just happened…" Old Zhang muttered, scratching his head. He was baffled. This wasn't how the technique was supposed to work.
He stared at the needles in his hand.
Maybe he inserted one in the wrong place?
He began pacing, anxious. Based on his research, the One-Eyed Man's missing eye should have regenerated. Lin Fan should've been flooded with a refreshing sensation.
He hesitated, then jabbed a needle into his own skull.
Nothing.
Not even a tingle.
Second needle.
Still nothing.
Third needle.
Hmm… a little tingling.
Fourth.
Now there was some pressure. Exactly what he'd predicted.
…
Thirteenth needle.
Boom!
Old Zhang's eyes widened as he dropped like a stone.
At the bench, three men lay unconscious.
Orderlies saw the scene and rushed over. They stopped short, gasping at the sight of silver needles protruding from all three heads. Their faces twisted in panic.
"Help!"
"Somebody call for help!"
"Patient from Ward 666 plus a one-eyed outsider—condition unknown!"
Nearby—
Director Hao's call connected after two rings.
"Hello, this is—"
"No need to explain. We know the location. Ambulances are already en route. Sit tight."
"Good. Send two—there are three victims."
Director Hao's face betrayed no emotion. As if this had all been foreseen.
Will someone die?
He didn't know.
But since the day he stepped into this asylum and took the title of director—life and death had long ceased to surprise him.
(End of Chapter)