Chapter 9

A mental health center?

Liu Zhiyi rubbed her eyes, closed and opened them, and thought back carefully over the whole way home from the hospital.

After a blow, a person's mind was more prone to trouble.

Liu Zhiyi stared at the words "mental health center" on the watch.

Had she gone too long at the hospital without rest and started hallucinating?

After her mother died, she really hadn't slept much the whole way rushing back from out of town…

So the game was a hallucination? Was she in a psychiatric hospital right now?

—Crack.

Liu Zhiyi saw a fracture appear across the market in front of her.

It was like a phone with a cracked screen — the picture still normal, but the fracture creeping up from one corner.

The two split halves of the image were offset, parts of them overlapping, the light warping, and through it a dim churn of heads.

Liu Zhiyi squinted, and saw translucent figures packed densely through the whole market.

She snatched her eyes back, doubt rising again.

Could a hallucination be this concrete?

But soon she felt the scenery around her trembling — the sound of a car speeding past, tires scuffing the road, coming from far to near, and the sound of people chatting…

Yes — the area around the old complex she lived in should be exactly this lively.

Liu Zhiyi felt as if she were about to wake up.

Was the game really just a nightmare, a hallucination?

And just then, she felt her hand yanked.

Zhi-Zhi's voice came out of the watch, stuttering and skipping, like a disc gone bad.

"Fish… fish… fish! My mama… mama… loves fish best!"

It landed like a heavy hammer on Liu Zhiyi's mind, and she couldn't help the connection.

Her mama… loved fish too.

—Bzz.

Her watch buzzed, and Liu Zhiyi blinked.

The crack was gone, and the market had gone quiet again.

What was going on?

Liu Zhiyi turned her head this way and that, going over the market once more, carefully.

So was there something wrong with her head, or had she really run into an uncanny event?

—Fzzt.

Liu Zhiyi hissed, nearly jumping at the shock from the watch.

This jolt was far stronger than before, and the watch kept buzzing without stop.

From the look of it, Liu Zhiyi grasped how serious things had gotten.

She quickly tapped the watch open.

A notice had taken over the whole screen. Like the government notice she'd seen when she first got the watch, this one was from the Yiling government too, the text all in red, the word URGENT at the top.

[Citizens,

Hello. Your thoughts can affect the changes in a game dungeon, and our district made an attempt on this basis — sending a message from the Mental Health Center to mislead your thinking.

A dungeon is born of a person's obsession and is subject to their thoughts; when a person doubts their own judgment, the dungeon can be damaged.

If you have received this notice, it proves the attempt has failed.

But that does not mean there is no chance of escaping the dungeon: once the obsession is resolved, you can clear it.

Please, whatever you do, do not give up.]

No wonder there'd been the crack — after seeing that Mental Health Center message, she really had felt doubt.

So in the end the doubt still couldn't outweigh the obsession?

Liu Zhiyi scrolled the watch and found a few photos attached below the notice.

Scenery — green hills and clear waters, a deep-blue sea — and photos of fluffy, adorable cats and dogs.

Liu Zhiyi laughed at the sight.

What was all this…

"To boost morale, obviously." The cat's voice sounded by her ear. "Stuck in a dungeon all this time, you need to see something positive now and then — that's how they put it…"

They?

It seemed to Liu Zhiyi that the cat knew game matters very well, rather like an insider.

She thought about it and couldn't help asking, quietly, in her mind:

"Did you… used to work in the department that handles this?"

Cat: "No, nothing like that. Just a bit of cooperation."

And it sighed.

"Plenty of them in there are good people, though…"

Cat: "Sending these photos might not do much good, but they feel they have to let the people in the dungeons know that they're always working at it… to pull you all out."

At that, Liu Zhiyi's tears came all at once.

She didn't know why she was crying, either.

But knowing there was a whole group of people out there still trying, she suddenly felt this shitty life had a sliver of hope to it after all.

Even crying, Liu Zhiyi didn't forget she had to finish the find-the-mama task first. Tears still on her face, she swept her eyes around the market again, and noticed the little ghost she held by the hand hadn't moved in a while — and the red dot on the watch hadn't moved either.

Liu Zhiyi: "…They're frozen?"

Cat: "The attempt failed, but for a few seconds it still damaged the dungeon, and recovering takes time — so I'm using the window to talk with you a bit."

No wonder it had stayed silent the whole time she was talking with Zhi-Zhi.

Liu Zhiyi: "Could we seize the chance and just destroy the dungeon outright—"

Halfway through, she came to with a jolt and realized she'd said something stupid.

Liu Zhiyi: "…The dungeon's tied to my obsession."

"Could the thought-misleading be done again?" Liu Zhiyi asked.

Cat: "Put plainly, that thing's called a trick — you've fallen for it once; would you fall for it a second time?"

"And it can't be used much," the cat went on, at length. "Too much misleading throws off a person's judgment as well."

Liu Zhiyi thought it over carefully.

She wanted to say she could pretend to fall for it — but on reflection, the dungeon went by the heart to begin with; how do you fake something you know full well in your own mind?

"An obsession — mostly, once you think it through, the dungeon clears on its own." The cat gave a meow.

The cutesy little cry eased Liu Zhiyi's anxiety.

Liu Zhiyi slipped her hand into her pocket and gently rubbed the cat's head.

"As if it were that easy."

Cat: "True enough. Plenty of people can't even keep their anxiety in check…"

There was wind.

Liu Zhiyi felt a gust of cold wind on her face.

Cat: "Here it comes."

At first just a breeze, then wind from every side, and it seemed to move to a rhythm — now strong, now soft — with a huffing sound to it.

It sounded like breathing.

—Huff.

—Huff.

Liu Zhiyi knew she was surrounded by "people" again.

She drew a few breaths, steadying her heartbeat through them.

Frightened enough times, Liu Zhiyi had gradually worked out a way to calm herself down fast.

"Let's go, Zhi-Zhi." Liu Zhiyi said with a smile.

She took a step forward and gently drew her left hand along — it didn't budge.

Liu Zhiyi stopped and put a little more force into her left hand; unable to see, she could only tell by touch whether that little hand was still in hers.

The hand was still there, luckily — so Zhi-Zhi just hadn't moved.

Liu Zhiyi: "What is it, Zhi-Zhi — you don't want to find your mama anymore?"

The words were barely out when a child's whimpering came from her left.

Liu Zhiyi raised her arm, waiting for the latest voice message to pop up.

Whether she was being oversensitive or not, wind was coming from every direction now, yet she kept feeling one gust blow straight at her face — as if its source were right up close to it.

Still, she'd learned not to dwell on it now; dwell too much and her heart rate would climb.

Zhi-Zhi: "Big sister, someone seems to have noticed you."

Liu Zhiyi: "…Which someone?"

Zhi-Zhi: "She's standing right in front of you now."