Still, no one stepped forward. The old man’s expression grew more sinister by the second.
He slammed a fist against the iron gate.
“You have ten minutes. Fail to choose a role and enter the hospital in time… and you’ll be marked as intruders.”
Panic rippled through the group. But no one knew which side was the “right” one. Everyone kept glancing at each other, clearly hoping someone else would step forward first.
“Ah… Mr. Dong,” Fu Changxun said after a moment’s thought, “Let’s choose patient.”
Mr. Dong—Dong Zi—moved without hesitation, stepping to the right side as instructed. Fu Changxun followed, then Lulu and Xiao Xiao fell in line behind them.
That made four “patients.”
The remaining five hesitated, unsure if they should follow.
“Tch, what kind of choice is that? It’s a hospital—you obviously wanna be a nurse.” Li-ge looked at them like they were idiots, then turned to his stream with a smug grin. “Patients in hospitals are always in danger. I’m choosing nurse.”
He stepped left. Zhang-ge, of course, followed him.
The married couple wavered for a while before ultimately siding with Li-ge and joining the nurses.
That left Lu Qi alone, watching both sides balance out to four each. He stood frozen, indecisive, until the final seconds, when he gritted his teeth and stepped toward Fu Changxun’s side.
He liked to think he still knew Fu Changxun well enough to believe—he wouldn’t joke around when it came to life and death.
“Tch. Why’d he come over too?” Fu Changxun muttered.
Then he whispered, “Ah Zi, Xiao Xiao—let’s pretend we don’t know each other for now.”
Both responded with soft “mm”s of agreement.
Lu Qi had already moved close. Despite their earlier spat, he stuck to Fu Changxun like glue, clearly terrified of being left on his own.
The old man’s grin widened once the teams were settled. “Five patients, four nurses. Very well. Come inside.”
With that, he turned and began walking into the building. The players followed.
Surprisingly, the interior of the hospital wasn’t nearly as decrepit as the outside. It actually looked fairly normal.
The entrance led into a reception hall. On the left was the front desk, on the right a hallway lined with patient rooms. The stairwell stood near the center, but oddly, there was no elevator in sight.
The place was eerily quiet, like time had stopped. The old man pointed to a nameplate on the front desk.
“Remember your identities and roles. Nurses, perform your duties well. Patients…”
He paused, eyes narrowing as he swept a piercing glare over the “patients.” Something about the look made everyone deeply uncomfortable.
“…Patients must remain in their assigned rooms,” he said grimly. “Absolutely no leaving at night.”
With that, he hunched over and slowly ascended the stairs.
Lulu quietly trailed after him—only to see something that made her freeze.
He didn’t walk away. He vanished. Right there on the stairwell. His body simply dissolved into the air, like mist melting into fog. And then—like someone had lifted a veil—the entire hospital seemed to wake up.
Voices and footsteps filled the halls. Figures moved behind the frosted glass of patient room doors.
Everything before this had just been the intro. Now, the real instance had begun.
Fu Changxun steadied himself. He guessed more NPCs would appear soon.
Sure enough, less than a minute later, another one arrived.
A young man in a white lab coat hurried toward them, eyes sharp. “You’re the new arrivals? Who’s a nurse? Who’s a patient? Register now.”
“I’m a nurse!” Li-ge immediately piped up. “These three are too. The rest are patients. Doctor, what are our duties?”
The young doctor gave a mild smile. “Don’t worry. You’re all interns—you won’t be asked to do anything too difficult. Our hospital’s very full lately. Some patients are quite young and… emotionally unstable. Your job is to help calm them.”
He turned to the “patients,” his expression hardening. “Go get your checkups done. We need to know what you’re in here for. Come see me when you’re done.”
His tone was sharp and impatient.
Xiao Xiao flinched and quickly hid behind Lulu.
Lulu murmured, “Why the double standard? Shouldn’t patients be treated gently?”
The doctor frowned. “Hurry up already!”
Fu Changxun quickly reached out to hold Lulu back, just in case she lost it and punched the NPC in public.
Dong Zi silently stepped forward again, shielding Fu Changxun with his body.
Li-ge watched the scene with glee, clearly feeling vindicated in his choice. In his mind, choosing to be a “patient” was basically signing your own death warrant. Who the hell would choose that willingly?
“Where’s the examination room?” Dong Zi asked bluntly, ignoring both the doctor’s hostility and Li-ge’s smug look.
The doctor waved a hand lazily toward the second floor. “Upstairs, fourth room on the left. Don’t forget to ask the old physician for your report slip. Without it, we can’t prescribe you any meds.”
They had to take medicine?
God only knew if those meds had side effects.
Lu Qi, who had followed Fu Changxun into the “patient” role, was already full of regret. He desperately wanted to go back in time ten minutes and slap himself.
But the old man had made it clear: once a choice was made, it couldn’t be changed.
“Let’s go get checked.” Fu Changxun said with biting sarcasm. “With a doctor this rude, no wonder patients don’t want to cooperate. I don’t either.”
The doctor’s expression darkened as he glared daggers at him.
“What, memorizing my face so you can screw me over later?” Fu Changxun said with mock concern.
The doctor froze.
Fu Changxun promptly ducked behind Dong Zi and added, “Don’t worry, I memorized your badge number too. And by the way—there’s a whistleblower hotline posted right outside this hospital. You mess with me, I will file a report.”
This was the first time an NPC doctor in the instance had ever been threatened like this.
And yet, he really was afraid of being reported—because that phone at the front desk was a hidden mechanic, a “secret weapon” planted for players to potentially use against doctors.
“Of course not,” the doctor said through clenched teeth. “I treat all patients equally. I would never show favoritism.”
Sure, the words were there, but his tone turned even more curt and dismissive as he spun on his heel and stalked away.
The “nurse” players hurried to follow him.
The “patient” players stayed put for a moment, watching to make sure the doctor wasn’t coming back. Then, led by Dong Zi, they went upstairs to get their examination slips.
Dong Zi’s diagnosis: Personality Disorder.
Fu Changxun: Delusional Disorder.
Lulu: Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Xiao Xiao’s result was startlingly accurate—her slip read: Childhood Depression.
“So this is a psychiatric hospital,” Fu Changxun muttered, realization dawning. “No wonder there aren’t any family members loitering in the halls.”
“What kind of exam was that? Just filling out a form?” Lu Qi looked baffled. “I just scribbled whatever—and it still said I’ve got mania?”
Fu Changxun replied coldly, “Because you do.”
Lu Qi: “I—”
“We need to find our rooms,” Dong Zi interjected smoothly, cutting him off.
Their reports listed room assignments—three to a room. Thankfully, the instance wasn’t completely sadistic: the three men were grouped together, while Lulu and Xiao Xiao were placed with a female NPC. The divisions were clear and orderly.
But Lulu hesitated. “Your room’s on the third floor. Ours is on… the fourth.”
They were being separated.
Dong Zi gave Fu Changxun a brief glance. The latter nodded faintly in response.
“Let’s check out both rooms first,” Dong Zi suggested. “If they’re too far apart, we’ll come up with something. Looks like the patient faction might have it rough—we’ll need to work together.”
He said this partly for show—for the viewers, and for Lu Qi. The four of them all knew each other, after all.
The five “patients” headed to the third floor first. Inside the room were three sterile hospital beds and, prominently displayed on the wall above them:
- Patients are strictly forbidden from leaving their rooms after 10:00 PM. Any consequences incurred are their own responsibility.
- Patients must take their medication daily. Attempting to deceive nurses, skip doses, or tamper with medicine will result in punishment.
- Patients must not harm the doctors.
The three rules were printed in bold red font against a black background—ominous and unsettling.
“Seriously? We’re supposed to sleep here at night like this?” Lulu groaned. “This place is messed up. No wonder no one ever recovers—this hospital’s probably making everyone more insane.”
She turned to Xiao Xiao. “Scared? If you are, come hug jiejie.”
Xiao Xiao blinked her wide eyes. “I’m not scared. It’s not like it’s written in blood.”
Lulu: “…”
How is this kid braver than me?
Then Fu Changxun suddenly let out a loud “Aiya!” and said dramatically, “This place is terrifying! Mr. Dong, can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don’t toss and turn.”
Dong Zi blinked—then realized Ah Xun was putting on an act.
Playing along, he said stiffly, “Can’t you manage on your own?”
Fu Changxun fluttered his lashes in exaggerated distress. “No, I’m scared. I won’t be able to sleep alone.”
“There are three of us in this room. You’re not alone.”
“But I’m still scared…”
Dong Zi offered dryly, “Want me to move the bed closer?”
“No!” Fu Changxun, now confident there was no immediate danger, went all in on the performance. He stomped his foot and whined, “I want to sleep with you! The rule just says we can’t leave the room—it never said we can’t share a bed!”
Lu Qi looked absolutely livid, his face turning a sickly green with jealousy as he glared at Dong Zi.
Dong Zi, though aware it was just an act, still felt a rush of joy stir in his chest.
Lu Qi felt like he’d just been publicly cuckolded. By an expired relationship, no less. He was the ex-boyfriend—he didn’t even have the right to stop Fu Changxun from seeing someone new.
“Why not with me?” he burst out before he could stop himself.
Fu Changxun shot him a withering look. “You? Please. If anything happens, you’d definitely throw me in front of the danger. Look how responsible Mr. Dong is—he’d never do that.”
Lu Qi exploded. “How long have you even known him? How long have you known me? You don’t trust me at all?”
And then—he saw it.
That expression in Fu Changxun’s eyes: calm, clear, and quietly smug.
A look that said, Ah, you finally get it. Good. Welcome to self-awareness.
Lu Qi: “…”
He was going to lose his damn mind.
“He’s just some rando who showed up out of nowhere,” Lu Qi shouted, pointing at Dong Zi. “We were together for years! And you’re still not willing to forgive me?”
Dong Zi silently thought to himself: I didn’t start much earlier than you. Just three years earlier, tops. Let’s get one thing straight—you are the newcomer here.
He and Ah Xun had grown up together. Childhood friends.
