Psychological Games and Silencing

When everyone is in their darkest hour, they will look for something to give them the strength to keep going in the darkness.

Such items don't necessarily have to have any special meaning, unlike in movies and TV shows where they must be family photos or props used in religious rituals.

It could be a pen, a book, a poster, or even a hair clip.

People instinctively assign special meaning to these meaningless things, such as who gave this pen to them, or that it can write about the power of light.

For example, this book contains deeply moving stories that inspire people to 《Resistance》 tenaciously.

For example, there's that beautiful poster of a woman that has accompanied me through countless nights, still bearing my unique scent. As long as it's there, life still has some enjoyment.

For example... a hair clip.

For young people, gifts from others often have special meaning, and they enjoy doing so.

These things can also give them the courage to persevere through difficult times and support them to keep moving forward.

The audience enjoyed ninety minutes like never before. Although it became rather bland towards the end, the initial fierce competition and Oula's surrender were incredibly satisfying.

It was at this time that some people realized that the warrior they had always thought of— Oula, who dared to challenge the upper class, and the host they regarded as a role model of courage—had actually become a great demon himself.

When people see her rendered speechless by Lin Qi's rebuttal, they don't feel anger, but rather a sense of satisfaction; they can't wait to share their feelings with others.

Under the direction of the people behind the scenes, they quickly left the scene.

Lin Qi put the Mike on the table and prepared to leave, but just then, Oula, who had come to his senses, called out to him and asked the Director to kick everyone out of the studio.

"Who are you?" Oula was no longer the same person she was at the beginning, not even a few minutes ago.

She revealed a vulnerable side, her eyes filled with fear. After her deepest secret was discovered, she had an urge to run away immediately.

But she suppressed the impulse. She had read Lin Qi's information; he was just an ordinary poor boy from a common class family. He couldn't possibly know the truth of what happened back then, much less know the meaning of the hair clip and what it meant to her.

She didn't believe that Lin Qi's last question was just a random, baseless remark; he must know something.

Having such a past is definitely not a good memory for Oula. The fewer people who know about it, the better. She even considered asking the devil for help to shut Lin Qi up, if it was worth it.

Lin Qi glanced at her and said softly, "I noticed a small detail: when you feel uncomfortable, you will stroke the hair on the right side of your head. A fool once told me that when a person makes the same subconscious move several times during a period of psychological discomfort, this move can be seen as an important spiritual support during a person's psychological growth."

"Some habits, once formed, will stay with you for life, and you may not even realize it yourself, but others can observe them."

"What might a woman have in her hair when she's young or in her childhood?" Lin Qi asked the probing question, then answered it himself, "Hair clips."

"You're still fiddling with your hair, but there are no hair clips in your hair. I guess if that thing wasn't lost, you must have put it in a safe and hidden place."

"That was a psychological support for you during that special period, but it also represented a fear that you didn't want to recall. Now that the fear has resurfaced, you need it again."

"Enough!" Oula suddenly roared, scattering what she was holding on the ground. She glared fiercely at Lin Qi, then turned and quickly left.

Her body was trembling slightly. Lin Qi easily found the crack in her heart and inserted a crowbar to pry open the long-sealed lid.

Watching her leave, trembling and hugging her arms, Lin Qi curled his lip. He had no intention of exploring other people's inner world; it was just that this woman had targeted him first.

Of course, he also had to thank the psychologist in that small room, who taught him a lot.

Actually, these things aren't that complicated. They're just a matter of careful observation, bold conjecture, and keen insight. Some things will naturally emerge from that.

This was originally just an ordinary interview program. "Oula Ninety Minutes" finally achieved a winning result for the guest for the first time since its premiere. This was so surprising that many people called the Television Station the next day, requesting that another episode be broadcast as soon as possible.

Previously, people's impression of this show was that the host would embarrass various celebrities and socialites, personally go on stage to fight and tear apart the Upper Class, making the celebrities bow their heads and the socialites shed tears.

Many people do enjoy watching it, but it's always the same, which inevitably makes people feel overly repetitive. But this time it's different. Oula failed and was almost torn to pieces, so people became interested.

The Television Station also made emergency arrangements to resume the broadcast, and even resumed it twice.

These are just ordinary phenomena, and no one would pay much attention to them.

But some people are already suffering from its effects.

A farmer who runs a farm in the west is leisurely sunbathing. He has no idea how sensational yesterday's television program was. His only source of information about the outside world is from his weekly trip to town to buy the newspaper.

He was all alone on the ranch, but he wasn't afraid at all. He had a gun and a car, and it wasn't too far from town. If he got into trouble, he could hide in the basement.

The winter sun felt very warm on his body, and it was another new year.

He sighed and lamented, then picked up a bottle of wine and took a swig. Under the influence of alcohol, some old memories surfaced in his mind.

He hummed a little tune, thinking about everything that had happened in the past, a smile appearing on his lips, which parted slightly. "Yes, that's it... that's it!"

Suddenly, the sound of a car engine in the distance broke the tranquility of the countryside. He opened his eyes and looked at the car, then casually grabbed the gun lying next to him.

According to a special Federal law concerning the western states, in remote areas of the West, if someone approaches you, you can ask them to keep a safe distance. If they refuse and continue to approach, you can shoot them.

Because the west is indeed relatively remote and uninhabited, often with dozens or hundreds of kilometers of No Man's Land, it is an environment where any good person could turn into a bad person in an instant.

Many of the perpetrators in the series of crimes that occurred in the West throughout history were caught in a way that left their neighbors in disbelief, as they could not imagine that some kind and considerate people could turn into monsters when no one was watching.

Therefore, the Federal enacted the Safe Distance Act specifically for the Western world and promoted the legislation of the Western Armed Act, which greatly reduced the probability of murders in the West, but sometimes they still happen.

The old man sat up, holding his gun with the safety off. He would shoot if the other party refused to keep their distance after getting out of the car.

The shotgun in his hand was no ordinary one; it was the most advanced shotgun produced by the largest Military Industrial Group in the Federal. It only took one bullet to bring down an elephant, let alone a person.

He pulled out a Mixed Color Kolef. The higher nicotine content instantly energized him. He stared at the car in the distance, giving off a "don't mess with me" look.

The car slowly pulled up outside the yard, and two middle-aged men got out. The old man smiled more, put the gun back, and stood up.

He recognized these two people; they were arranged by his brother, partly to protect him and send him some living expenses every now and then, and partly to prevent him from escaping.

It's about time these people came to deliver the money.

Thinking of this, a smile appeared on his face. This damned West, he couldn't even use up his checks, and his brother wouldn't let him withdraw money from the bank, so he had a lot of money but couldn't use it.

But it's okay, these people will send him a bag of cash every now and then, so he can relax a bit.

He walked over with light steps. In a few years, when his brother retired, he would be able to leave this place.

"I thought you'd come in the afternoon..." the farmer said familiarly as he approached the two. He even patted the new car he hadn't seen before. "Nice car. How much did it cost?"

The guy who got out of the driver's seat casually remarked, "Seventeen thousand yuan."

"It's not cheap, but it looks good, much better than my car. I'll tell the people over there to get me one too, I want the Hellfire paint!" Machinery and guns are what Westerners love most. Even if these Westerners come from other places, they will fall in love with these two things after they come to the West.

The person who had spoken to him didn't reply, but instead looked down and fiddled with something. The old man leaned closer, curious. "What are you doing?"

He was so bored. He was all alone in this cramped little place. He couldn't talk to anyone he wanted to talk to; he could only talk to himself.

There was no TV signal, no telephone line, nothing at all. His brother wouldn't even allow him to have friends, and he was going crazy.

His favorite times were when those two idiots came, and when he went to town every week to buy some daily necessities; those were the times he could have a proper conversation with people.

As he drew closer, seemingly trying to figure out what the person was doing, the man suddenly looked up at him.

The farmer was startled by the murderous intent in his eyes. He tried to run, but it was too late.

The man who emerged from the driver's seat took a sudden step forward, his left hand reaching under the farmer's armpit and grabbing his hair from behind, pulling it downwards. This forced the farmer to look up, and at the same time, a dagger plunged into his throat without any resistance.

Death was beckoning him!