Observations at the Asylum

"Hey, Luther!"

Bathed in the sunlight and reflecting on the events that had just transpired, Luther was about to muse on the situation when he heard Roshan's voice coming from the front desk. He saw her leaning out from behind the counter, waving at him.

"What is it?"

Luther walked over and asked.

"The Captain had to head out for some business. Before he left, he told me to remind you to hurry up and get that mental health evaluation certificate done. It's best to have it finished before the welcome banquet."

"Oh, right, that thing."

Luther finally remembered. There had been so many things to deal with since joining the team that he had completely forgotten about it. The welcome banquet was on Friday night, and since today was already Wednesday, he didn't have much time left.

"Got it, I'll head to the Asylum tomorrow then."

Luther replied casually.

At that moment, he noticed Roshan's expression was a bit strange, as if she were holding back something she really wanted to say.

"What's wrong?"

"Luther, I heard that Old Neil gave his property to you. Is that true or false?"

There was a look of gossip in Roshan's eyes.

"You found out about that already?"

Luther couldn't help but chuckle; Roshan really was well-informed.

"Wow, that must be worth a huge sum of money!"

Roshan had actually been quite afraid of him at first, but after getting to know him over the past little while, she had gradually become more open. Hearing Luther confirm it, she immediately wore an envious expression. "That's so great! If I had that much money, I'd definitely invest it and make a fortune."

"Invest?"

"Yeah. Look, it says in the newspaper that a large iron mine was discovered in the Honachis Mountains. They're setting up a company to develop it and are currently recruiting investors to buy shares. They say the return rate is incredibly high." As she spoke, Roshan handed the Tingen City Honest Man Newspaper to him. "Do you want to consider it? Making money with money?"

Thanks to Roselle, the concept of "stocks" had become popularized in this world. Many companies used this method to quickly raise capital; while there were cases of people making a fortune, there were also plenty of instances where investors lost their entire life savings.

Luther took a rough glance; the description in the newspaper was much like what Roshan had said. Besides that, the page also included a photo of the mine and a portrait of the mining company's director. He was a young man with a full forehead and black hair. He looked ordinary, wore glasses, and had a very enthusiastic smile on his face.

"I think I'll pass."

Luther shook his head with a smile. "Investing has its risks; it's better to just lie back and collect rent."

The next day.

Luther looked up at the building in front of him with a complex expression.

A wall twice the height of a man surrounded a large area. Through the iron-barred gate, one could see the lawn and activity plaza inside, as well as the three-story building further back. People in hospital gowns were scattered about; some were dazed and dull, some were quiet and mute, while others were screaming or giggling. The scene was lively yet eerie. Many doctors and nurses moved among them, their expressions weary, looking even less healthy than the patients themselves.

This was the Greenhill Mental Sanatorium, commonly known as the Tingen City Asylum.

"How nice, it's like coming home."

He laughed at himself.

Browsing through the memories of the former Luther, he recalled many things about coming here. The look of distress on his parents' faces as they spent a fortune, the tearful face of his younger sister frightened by the madmen in the yard, the image of himself being tightly bound in a straitjacket and force-fed various potions... Later, because there was truly no improvement, his parents had no choice but to give up on the treatment and stop coming here.

Therefore, it wasn't really a problem for Luther to say "I'm home" upon seeing the asylum.

"Luther, don't say things like that!" Cecilia, who had accompanied him, immediately interrupted. "You are a healthy, normal person, not a madman!"

"Alright, alright, I'm a normal person." Luther comforted his sister. "Aren't we just going to find a doctor to prove that I'm normal?"

Cecilia didn't speak again, instead clutching his arm as she followed him through the iron gate and into the asylum.

Luther could feel her hand trembling slightly; she was still as afraid of madmen as she had been when she was a child.

"Do you want to wait for me outside?"

He asked in a low voice.

Cecilia shook her head.

It had been the same way back at home; when she found out Luther was going to the asylum, she insisted on coming along no matter what. Luther could understand his sister's feelings; she was likely worried that something might happen to him. He had finally recovered, and she feared that if he came to such an unlucky place and was provoked by other patients or doctors, he might fall ill again—it was that kind of concern, unscientific but rooted in heartfelt care.

Luther had no choice but to hold his sister's hand and walk into the dark, cavernous treatment building, just as the younger Luther used to lead Cecilia across the street.

Cecilia slowly stopped trembling.

The madmen were noisy and crying all around them, yet Luther felt a profound sense of peace in his heart.

Walking into the treatment building and explaining their purpose to the nurse at the entrance, the latter clearly showed a look of surprise. After checking the medical records and confirming that Luther was indeed a former patient, her astonishment grew even deeper.

"Could you please take us to see Dr. Chris Wilder? He was my attending physician back then."

Luther said.

"Ah, yes! Dr. Wilder is in his office on the third floor. Go up these stairs and it's the first door on the left."

Under his gaze, the nurse pointed the way in a flustered manner.

Luther had originally thought the nurse's attitude was excessive, but he hadn't expected Doctor Wilder's behavior to be even worse. After completing the full set of examinations and putting down the measuring device, he was astonished, "All indicators are completely normal! You... how did you manage this?"

By dying once, that's how.

"I encountered some unexpected events, and after surviving them, my mental illness just cleared up."

Luther brushed him off with a casual excuse.

"Mr. Rondal, please be serious. Your case could potentially become a new method for treating mental illnesses."

Wilder was somewhat annoyed.

"Don't be angry, Doctor Wilder. My recovery from this mental illness was purely a coincidence; it's impossible to replicate on others. Furthermore, the specific reasons involve official secrets, so please forgive me for not being able to tell you," Luther said. "Could you please hurry up and issue the certificate of recovery? I'm in a rush to get home."

"Go home? You cannot go back tonight."

Luther hadn't expected Wilder to flatly refuse this request.

"Why?"

Luther almost suspected he had misheard, and Cecilia, standing to the side, immediately became agitated, "My brother is already fine! Are you still trying to control him?"

"Please don't misunderstand, Miss Rondal."

Doctor Wilder explained, "Your brother's current state is indeed normal, but he has had instances of this condition recurring in the past. As the final part of the examination, I must observe him for one night to see if he has a relapse—this is my responsibility as a doctor."

Cecilia glared at him, "What if we don't want to stay?"

"It is a great pity, but then I will be unable to sign the certificate. I must be responsible for the patient... Please note, I am not trying to make things difficult for you. If you are dissatisfied with me, you can come back the day after tomorrow. There will be other doctors qualified to issue the certificate on duty then, and you can have them sign it. But as long as you are dealing with me, you must pass my full set of tests."

Wilder made it very clear: either stay at the hospital for one night, or wait until the day after tomorrow for a less demanding doctor to sign it.

What should he do?

Luther fell into hesitation for a moment.