Chapter 1 The Beginning

"Arkham, huh…" Feng Bujue had excellent eyesight. He could see a paper notice on the opposite wall through the bars of his cell. Although the notice only contained a few rules for the guards, such as "No Smoking," it was enough for him to gather the information that "this place is Arkham Asylum."

"Hmm… Although the facilities here vary in different eras and storylines, the cell I'm in now is clearly not the type used for 'long-term confinement'…" After confirming the location, Brother Jue began to examine the surrounding details. "The walls of this cell are old, but very clean, with no traces of filth or carvings. The toilet is the same; it looks old, but the stains inside aren't very obvious, indicating that it's not used very often… Plus, this thin bed, and the fact that I'm not wearing a patient's gown…" He quickly came to a conclusion, "…obviously, I've just been brought in and am waiting for processing in a 'temporary cell'…"

Dong, dong, dong…

Just as he was pondering, a rhythmic sound of metal being struck came from the corridor, gradually approaching.

After a moment's thought, Feng Bujue realized that it was the sound of a guard lightly tapping the cell bars with his baton.

This was a habit, with no particular meaning, just like how we liked to walk on the edges of curbs like balancing beams when we were kids, or touching the decorations at the top of each railing when passing a row of railings…

When people work in a monotonous, depressing, and uncomplicated environment as adults, they may also develop similar habits; in a way, it's a form of self-relaxation for the brain.

Sure enough, before long, a guard appeared at the door of Feng Bujue's cell. When the guard stopped, the tapping stopped naturally.

"Get up." The guard didn't bother talking to Brother Jue; he just gave a command through the bars.

Since he hadn't received a main quest yet, Feng Bujue didn't want to act rashly, so he silently got out of bed after hearing this.

"Come here." The guard's next order came quickly.

Feng Bujue did as he was told, taking a few steps forward to the bars.

"Hands." As the guard spoke, he reached to his waist and took off a pair of handcuffs.

This time, Brother Jue hesitated.

"Both hands out through the same gap…" The guard reminded him when he saw that Brother Jue hadn't moved.

Hearing this, Feng Bujue understood that the other party wanted to take him out of the cell and escort him somewhere, rather than playing some dirty play through the cell door.

Thus, after handcuffing Brother Jue through the bars, the guard used the key to open the cell door, then grabbed Brother Jue's arm and led him out.

Without a word, Feng Bujue was very cooperative. He didn't ask where they were taking him, nor did he take any rebellious actions. Rather than acting rashly, he preferred to quietly observe the environment and security of the asylum during this journey, just in case.

Unfortunately, there was no information worth gathering in the corridors he passed. Besides the surveillance cameras installed in the corners of the ceiling, all he could see were rows of closed doors on both sides of the corridor. The doors only had numbers on them, no other markings, and they didn't look like cells for holding patients.

After walking for a while, and turning several corners, Feng Bujue was led into a room resembling an interrogation room.

In this small, rectangular room of just over ten square meters, there was a table and two stools, all welded to the ground. One wall of the room had a large mirror embedded in it; any fool would know that it was a one-way mirror. In the corner of the ceiling, there was also a camera, which was clearly turned on.

For Brother Jue, entering and exiting this kind of room was like coming home… Whether in real life or in the game world, he had been arrested more than once, and being taken to this kind of room for questioning was commonplace.

"Sit down." After the guard led him into the room, he pointed to the seat facing the glass and said.

After Feng Bujue sat down, the guard skillfully took out a pair of shackles and locked Brother Jue's right leg to a chair leg, then he went out without saying a word.

About two minutes later, the door of the room opened again, and a young woman in a white coat walked in.

She wore a slightly old-fashioned pair of black-rimmed glasses, and her brown hair was neatly tied behind her head. Under the white coat was a proper shirt and suit skirt, and on her feet were a pair of heels that weren't too high. Even though her attire and temperament were relatively conservative, her face and figure were still very eye-catching. Men who saw her for the first time would usually take a second look, until they caught sight of the luxurious diamond ring on the ring finger of her left hand, which would cause them to restrain themselves slightly.

"Hello, Mr. Nameless." After entering the room, she sat down in the seat opposite Feng Bujue without any hesitation, and said as she opened the file in her hand, "I'm Dr. Quinn. I have a few questions I'd like you to answer. If you cooperate, you can change your current situation."

"You're lying." In less than a second, Feng Bujue replied without thinking.

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Quinn didn't have any particular reaction to Brother Jue's response; she just asked calmly.

"Your so-called 'asking a few questions' is just a preliminary mental assessment of me so that you can 'classify' me." Feng Bujue replied, "After you've completed this task, I'll be taken to 'where you think I should be taken,' and then an indefinite period of 'confinement and treatment' will begin, until the next regular assessment. My situation won't change in any way."

It had to be said that Brother Jue was quite familiar with the various procedures of mental hospitals… After all, he had had extensive personal experience.

"Wow~" Dr. Quinn's expression changed slightly when she heard this. "I'm very surprised. From the current conversation, your thinking is very clear, your wording is very accurate, and you haven't shown any violent tendencies in your speech."

"Is that strange?" Feng Bujue asked tentatively.

"Heh…" Dr. Quinn chuckled, took out a few photos from the file, and casually threw them on the table. "If you can explain… the profound intention behind you rushing into the police station last night with a fire ax, hacking at anyone you saw, and trying to fight the entire law enforcement department single-handedly… then this wouldn't be strange."

As she said these words, Brother Jue's gaze had already shifted to the photos.

The image quality of these photos was very poor, and they all appeared to be screenshots from video surveillance footage; but even though the photos weren't very clear, it could still be seen that it was a man in a long purple suit holding an ax and hacking at people.

"Fifteen police officers and three civilians were injured, two police officers died on the spot, and another four injured are still lying on the operating table," Dr. Quinn waited for a few seconds, then continued, while paying close attention to the changes in Brother Jue's expression.

"Hmm…" What kind of person was Feng Bujue? To try this on him was like showing off one's axe-wielding skills in front of Lu Ban (the master carpenter).

After only a moment's thought, Brother Jue put on a puzzled face and asked, "The person in the photo with the ax… is me?"

Dr. Quinn didn't answer this question, because it was meaningless nonsense in her opinion.

If the person asking this question really didn't remember doing this, then it meant that he had a mental problem, and answering wouldn't help him remember anything; and if the person asking this question knew the answer but asked anyway, then there was even less reason to answer.

Dr. Quinn breathed out of her nose, put on a stern face, and continued, "Let's start from the beginning… Do you remember your name?"

"Jack," Feng Bujue replied.

"Jack… what?" Dr. Quinn tried to ask for his last name.

"I don't remember." A mentally ill person could use this answer to answer any question at any time. This should be considered a privilege of the mentally ill, right?

"Alright… Jack." Dr. Quinn said again, "How old are you? Where are you from?"

These "routine questions" had to be asked. Only by establishing a baseline for the patient's cognitive and thinking level through these questions could their condition be further analyzed.

"I don't think this is fair, Doctor." But Feng Bujue didn't continue to answer.

"What's not fair?" Dr. Quinn replied.

"Only I am unilaterally telling you about my privacy. That's not fair," Feng Bujue said.

"Privacy?" Dr. Quinn looked down at the word "Jack" that she had filled out on a form ten seconds ago, and pursed her lips. "Besides a name that remains to be verified, what privacy have you told me?"

"If you want me to tell you more, you should exchange it for something of equal value." Feng Bujue looked directly into the other party's eyes and said with a smile that was not a smile.

"For example… 'doctor-patient confidentiality'?" Dr. Quinn replied.

"Ha!" Feng Bujue laughed at that moment. "The one-way mirror behind you, the recording pen in your coat pocket, and the camera in the corner of the ceiling tell me… doctor-patient confidentiality has another name in Arkham—Bullshit."

"Then what do you want?" Dr. Quinn said, "A certificate of mental health?"

"No, I don't want that." Feng Bujue said, "If you prove that I'm completely normal, then the place I'm going to isn't the asylum, but the police station… Considering that more than a dozen police officers went to the hospital and the funeral home last night, I don't think it's wise to deal with the police right now."

Speaking of this, he paused and then said, "Dr. Quinn, I have a suggestion…" He tilted his head, the corner of one side of his mouth slightly raised, "For every question I answer, you answer one of my questions. That… I think that's more fair."

"Then… can you also tell me… what reason do I have to agree to your request?" Dr. Quinn replied.

"You don't have to agree." Feng Bujue said, "In that case, our conversation will end here. I'll go back to my cell to continue thinking about life, and you'll go back to your office, write 'patient refuses to communicate' in the report, and then hand this seemingly perfunctory report to the police to see if they'll be satisfied."

As soon as these words came out, Dr. Quinn hesitated, and her expression clearly showed this.

She was, after all, just a doctor, not an actor. Even a psychology expert would find it difficult to completely hide their emotions.

"The choice is the same, Doctor." Feng Bujue said, "I'm a fair person… If you think the questions I ask are offensive or you don't want to answer, you can refuse to respond. Conversely, I may not answer all the questions you ask."

Brother Jue advanced in an orderly manner, approaching the other party's psychological defenses step by step.

"Alright." Dr. Quinn thought for a few more seconds, then replied, "However, I still have to start by asking questions first."

"Please." Feng Bujue raised his hands, which were handcuffed together, and made a "please" gesture.

"How old are you? Where are you from?" Dr. Quinn asked the same questions that the other party hadn't answered before.

"Twenty-five years old, from Metropolis." Feng Bujue answered very quickly. He could have answered "I don't know where I'm from," but if he had used such an answer from the beginning, it would have easily caused the other party to adopt a negative attitude, which would have prevented him from obtaining further information.

"You don't remember your last name, but you remember where you're from?" Dr. Quinn keenly noticed something, and immediately questioned the credibility of the other party's answer.

"That's already another question, Doctor." Feng Bujue wouldn't be led by the nose by the other party. He immediately said, "You have to answer one of my questions first before you can ask a question."

Dr. Quinn looked helpless, paused for a second, and then said, "Ask away."

"What's your husband's name, and what does he do?" Feng Bujue blurted out almost immediately. It seemed that he had already thought about what to ask.

Faced with this rather abrupt question, Dr. Quinn was slightly stunned. After a brief hesitation, her gaze instinctively dropped, lingered on the wedding ring on her hand for a second, and then looked at Brother Jue again, trying to discern some intention from the other party's eyes.

And details of this kind naturally couldn't escape Feng Bujue's eyes…

If Dr. Quinn was an expert in analyzing psychological illnesses, Feng Bujue was a master at seeing through people's hearts. Whether it was a slight change in the eyebrows and eyes, or a slight movement of the limbs, or even the action of swallowing saliva, all were a reflection of Dr. Quinn's inner activities… Through these, Brother Jue could even roughly deduce the other party's thought process.

"Don't think too much, Doctor." Feng Bujue, who had seen through the other party's thoughts, added two seconds later, "I won't do anything to your family. I'm just curious, which lucky man married a beauty like you who has both beauty and wisdom."

"Wayne… my husband's name is Bruce Wayne." After a moment of silence, Dr. Quinn gave an answer that even Feng Bujue found somewhat surprising. "He's an entrepreneur."