The sanatorium corridor was brightly lit, and the faint scent of air freshener occasionally drifted through the air. Yu Sheng carried the little doll on his back and followed behind the "director" with Little Red Riding Hood. Whenever Special Operations Bureau personnel appeared in the corridor, they would stop to greet the "director," who would respond politely and amiably.
Everything looked so "normal"—if one ignored the fact that the director himself was a goldfish.
The towering figure, over two meters tall, walked ahead. A string of tiny bubbles rose from the fishbowl perched on his shoulders, and the goldfish within swam slowly, its gaze occasionally settling on Yu Sheng.
"You seem rather curious about this place?" the goldfish asked.
To be honest, Yu Sheng found it hard to keep a straight face whenever the fish spoke in that lazy, magnetic voice. The last time he had felt this unable to hold it together was when he first met the "King" and heard a kitten speak in Zhao Zhongxiang's voice...
"I'm just a little surprised." Although the fish's voice was difficult to take seriously, Yu Sheng quickly replied, "I thought this special... 'mental hospital' would be more oppressive, or at least more strictly controlled. That was what I thought when I looked at the building from outside just now, but I didn't expect the inside to be so relaxing."
"Putting psychics who already have mental problems into a stressful environment would hardly be wise." The goldfish swam through the water, the ends of its nearly transparent fins seeming to stir up phantoms. "My job is to get psychics on the verge of losing control back on track as much as possible—or at least keep their condition from worsening—not to guard a prison. As for the strict controls you mentioned..."
The goldfish