Chapter 4: The Fortunate Ginton

With the previous experience involving the sorcerer, Wu Chang didn’t even feel the urge to open the door; instead, he lay honestly on the bed and drifted into sleep. Despite being in a dangerous and unfamiliar environment, he slept unusually soundly until dawn, when a knock on the door roused him.

Opening his eyes, he saw a nurse standing inside the room, tapping on the open door with her hand.

“Mr. Sean, it’s time for your treatment.”

Wu Chang sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes as he took a discreet look at the nurse. His gaze swept over her, finally resting on the name tag hanging over her ample chest.

“Julie Smith.”

Perhaps it was fate tied to that name—Nurse Julie bore an aggressively stern expression, her demeanor both sultry and aloof, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a certain actress he knew in real life.

Julie tossed a blue-and-white checkered patient gown onto the bed, expressionless as she said, “Change into this.”

Wu Chang picked up the gown, hesitating as he glanced at Julie. Seeing no intention on her part to leave, he asked, “Aren’t you going to look away?”

“Observing the patient is part of the examination,” she replied without objection. Wu Chang, unwilling to be fussed over, changed his clothes immediately.

As he took off his shirt, revealing a sharply defined, muscular torso, Julie raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. If looking was a form of examination, Julie’s piercing stare was akin to giving him an X-ray.

Striking a pose with one hand on his hip, displaying his muscles front and center, Wu Chang teased, “Want to rate me?”

“Perfect score,” Julie said bluntly.

“Really?”

“Of course. Those potato-eaters in town don’t have physiques like yours.”

Whether it was his imagination or not, Julie’s tone never wavered, yet Wu Chang sensed an unspoken warning: his physique would betray his outsider status.

He quickly put on his clothes. Whether real or imagined, caution was never misplaced. As the saying went, “Despicable outsiders.”

In many games, locals were depicted as “warm and hospitable.”

Once Wu Chang was dressed, Julie withdrew her gaze and led him out of the room. The sanatorium’s decor was uniform, the corridors outside the rooms purely functional in a minimalist style, devoid of any superfluous ornamentation.

On both sides of the grayish-white hallway were heavy iron doors. Nurses in white uniforms patrolled back and forth, eyes vigilant on each door.

Not every patient in Moonlight Sanatorium was as healthy as Wu Chang.

From the moment he stepped out of his room, the wails, sobs, and screams never ceased, audible even through the thick iron doors.

“What illness do they have?” Wu Chang whispered.

“Paranoia, like you,” Julie answered.

Wu Chang fell silent.

Had Julie not said so, he might have thought people behind those doors were being gutted alive.

The paranoia in this dungeon seemed somewhat different from his understanding of the condition.

The sanatorium was a four-story building, with the treatment area on the third floor.

After a brief wait, Wu Chang followed Julie into the mild-symptom consultation room.

Inside sat a middle-aged man of ordinary appearance, with noticeable bags under his weary eyes. His name tag read “Charles.”

Just a glance was enough for Wu Chang to feel the man was unreliable.

At his age, with such thick hair, his medical skills likely weren’t remarkable.

Charles lowered his head and asked, “Name?”

“Wu... Sean.”

Charles pulled out a medical chart, glanced at it, then tossed a packet of medicine on the table.

“Take three times daily. It works within half an hour after ingestion. The last dose before bedtime.”

Wu Chang opened the waterproof packet to find three capsules inside.

[Item Name: Special Medicine.]

[Type: Consumable.]

[Description: While effective, the medicine isolates the mind from external influences, providing immunity to low-level mental attacks. Side effects: Random hallucinations may appear while the medicine is active. After the effect ends, the maximum willpower decreases by 0.1, lasting until the dungeon ends.]

[Note: As long as I go mad first, nothing else can drive me crazier.]

Wu Chang calmly pocketed the special medicine, his gaze turning strange.

Could such a medicine truly cure patients?

After prescribing, Charles rang a bell by tapping the desk, dismissing Wu Chang.

“Next.”

Throughout the consultation, Charles hadn’t even looked properly at Wu Chang’s face.

Tsk, just as expected—a quack.

Leaving the consultation room, Wu Chang whispered, “Is this really how they diagnose?”

Julie turned her head, her voice devoid of emotion: “Doctor Charles is experienced. No need to worry.”

Wu Chang said, “Miss Julie, turn around and say that again while looking at me.”

Julie quickened her pace, walking down to the first floor without looking back, her tone stiff: “Hurry up, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

Arriving at the sanatorium’s first-floor lobby, the first thing to catch his eye was an open wooden door.

Beyond it lay the front courtyard, encircled by an iron fence separating inside and outside, with the gate secured by a symbolic iron chain lock.

Beside the gate stood a wooden sign:

“During control period, passage requires a permit from the director. Unauthorized entry or exit is forbidden.”

Neither the wooden door nor the iron gate was truly secure; a paperclip, hammer, or even a brick could easily break them open.

The main quest of the dungeon was to escape Moonlight Sanatorium. Anyone else might stubbornly try to break out, even knowing a B-level dungeon wouldn’t be so simple.

But Wu Chang would not.

The artistic splashes of blood on the gate warned him not to tempt fate.

Each bloodstain was a cluster of grudges.

Some grudges floated in the air, forming a visible air barrier overlapping the iron fence, enveloping the entire sanatorium.

Wu Chang casually examined several grudges. Their owners included both players and native beings of the dungeon.

No matter their identity, anyone touching the gate collapsed and died instantly, their bodies twisting and dissipating as if devoured by an unknown force—without struggle or resistance.

In the dining hall to the left of the lobby, Wu Chang collected his breakfast.

Two unpeeled potatoes and a small bowl of stewed beans.

The beans were completely softened, mixed with an unidentifiable sauce. Both taste and texture resembled repeatedly digested vomit.

Julie had been right—eating this would never build muscle.

He carried his breakfast, following Julie to the activity room on the first floor.

Recreation here was like prison yard time, one of the few moments of freedom granted to patients.

By the time they arrived, nearly thirty patients were scattered across the room, grouped in threes or fives—some loudly conspiring escape back-to-back, others gathered around a vase earnestly discussing footwork in football.

Watching their baffling actions, Wu Chang confirmed this was indeed a genuine mental hospital.

Before entering, Julie whispered:

“Two pieces of advice: one, don’t cause trouble here, especially not under the staff’s watch. Two, if you want to leave intact, best not provoke Kindon.”

“Why?”

“That guy’s a master manipulator. Many who’ve gambled with him have seen their conditions worsen rapidly, turning into fools prematurely.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Watching Julie’s departing figure, Wu Chang was certain his earlier feeling wasn’t mistaken—she was helping him.

Whatever her motives, she was at least a half-ally.

Stepping into the activity room, before he could take in the layout, his eyes were drawn like a magnet to a chubby man sitting alone at a table, shuffling cards.

Wu Chang was sure this was the very fat man from the sorcerer's grudge visions.

Only someone drinking special rations could grow such a massive gut on a diet of limited potatoes and stewed beans.

This guy either had special treatment or gained weight just from drinking water.

The fat man’s prominence came not just from his size but from the dense cluster of grudges behind him.

A quick glance showed no fewer than twenty grudges, two especially vivid—one bright red, one deep crimson.

Compared to him, the bloodstains from the bus attack looked tame.

Wu Chang found a corner to sit, stuffing stewed beans into his mouth while studying the grudges on the fat man.

This behavior reminded him of his dorm mate watching daily traffic accident compilations during meals.

Surprisingly, this method made the meal more palatable, and after reviewing all the grudges, he actually finished the vomit-like beans.

Doubt old four, understand old four, become old four, surpass old four!

Most grudges behind the fat man were related to gambling.

“All in, must go all in!”

...

“I’ve got four Kings, no way you have a straight flush!”

...

“The goddess of luck is smiling; I’m on a streak today!”

...

Among the many pale red grudges, the last scenes usually showed someone clutching big cards, eyes bloodshot, shouting to reveal their hand. Even through their final words, one could feel the maddening frenzy of the grudge’s owner before death.

Cherish life. Stay away from gambling.

Wu Chang shook his head, setting the bowl on the nearby table, clutching his two potatoes as he approached the fat man shuffling cards.

“Playing alone is boring. Want to play a couple of rounds with me?”

The fat man looked up at Wu Chang like a child discovering a new toy, smiling brightly.

“Sure! If you’re willing to play, then we’re friends. Haven’t seen you before—new here?”

Wu Chang plopped down opposite him. “Yeah, I’m Sean. And you?”

The fat man laughed. “I’m Kindon. Everyone calls me ‘Lucky Kindon.’”