Tested at the Hospital—Nothing Wrong

"This guy's clothes looked pretty good."

Lynn regretted swinging that hammer just now. If blood had splattered on them, it would have been such a waste.

"Oh-ho! Good thing my butchering skills hadn't gotten rusty."

A faint glimmer flashed, and the chain hammer in Lynn's hand vanished. He crouched down and began changing equipment.

He had more than enough of this Arkham severe patient uniform.

Lynn was a transmigrator. Because he had worked far too diligently, throwing himself into 996 with enthusiasm, Heaven had taken notice and rewarded him with a sudden death at his post. It was enough to make those who heard it sad and those who saw it piss themselves.

Perhaps it was compensation. Lynn had received another life, younger and healthier, with food to eat and a place to live without having to work at all.

The downside was the lack of freedom. When he had transmigrated here and opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a bunch of doctors in white coats and masks sticking needles into him.

After that, Lynn spent an unforgettable week and change in a maximum-security observation restraint room.

As for the week and change, Lynn had estimated it from the doctors' scattered remarks and how often they gave him injections and medicine.

There was no helping it! Those people seemed unable to hear him speak—or rather, they deliberately ignored everything he said and asked. The slightest big movement or emotional agitation earned him an injection, after which Lynn had no choice but to keep sleeping.

It took nearly a week for Lynn to adapt to his "new life." Not that he had a choice; injections hurt like hell.

Through his own guesses and the information he had gathered, Lynn had roughly figured out his name, his current situation, and where he was.

On top of that, his cheat had arrived.

Lynn. Lynn Adrian. The name did not matter; he had been surnamed Lin before, so he might as well call himself Lynn.

His current situation was not ideal. He seemed to have gotten wrapped up in a murder case. The murderer was himself, Lynn Adrian. The victim was his only living relative, his uncle Miller.

Because the attack had been too sudden and without motive, coupled with a series of abnormal actions by the original "Lynn," he had been sent here: Arkham Asylum.

When Lynn learned where he was, he was shocked, dumbfounded, and utterly devastated.

Arkham? That Arkham, the place overflowing with talent?!

Did that mean... he had come to the DC Universe, to the land of outstanding people and spiritual beauty that was Gotham City?!

Lynn desperately wanted confirmation, but he was kept alone in a single-patient room without even a roommate. The only people he saw each day were the doctors who medicated him and the officers who interrogated him.

These people never answered his questions. And whenever Lynn asked things like, "Is this Gotham? Am I in Arkham? Is the current American president Barack Obama?" they would shake their heads and sing Xu Wei to him... no, they would increase his dosage.

Even if that medicine tasted sweet and pretty good, it sure as hell was not something he could eat like candy!

So, left with no choice, Lynn fulfilled his duties as a "mental patient" and played a daily question-and-answer game with the interrogating officers.

"Lynn, do you admit that you murdered your uncle?"

"I admit that I was also the one shooting planes off the Empire State Building during the alien invasion in '98."

"Lynn, did you use this candlestick to murder your uncle Miller?"

"Yes. I tried it with the hardest French bread I could find. It couldn't stab anyone to death."

"Lynn, was your motive for murdering your uncle to inherit the property that once belonged to your father?"

"No. Mainly because he always stole my minion waves."

"At the time of the crime—or rather, while you were committing it—did the victim, your uncle, say anything to you?"

"He did. He said, 'What you love is your life!'"

"Which fucking uncle was that?! Oh... sorry, I lost my composure."

~~

Interrogating a mental patient was clearly not an easy way to get results, especially when Lynn was inexplicably so adept at playing the role of one.

In less than ten days, he brutally shattered the mindsets of six investigating officers, driving three of them to curse loudly and nearly provoking one into violence. After that, Lynn's interrogation period was permanently over.

Fortunately, his case had mountains of witness testimony and physical evidence—more than complete enough. So Lynn was easily sentenced to nearly thirty years in prison. Other than a few homicide detectives feeling miserable, the entire process was a happy ending for everyone.

Lynn himself was quite happy too, aside from being locked in a mental hospital.

Lynn's psychiatric evaluation and a series of examinations all showed that he was normal. However, that did not change his circumstances.

He was still locked in an isolated "cage," where every day consisted of injections and medicine. Lynn felt that if he kept taking it like this, he would develop an illness even if he had not had one to begin with.

Fortunately, Heaven never left a man completely without a way out. His cheat suddenly arrived.

That day, Lynn had finished his medicine as usual, begun brainstorming in his head as usual, and sat on the toilet reading the only words he could access: the ingredient list on a shampoo bottle.

Just as he lamented that technology and chemical additives were the true culprits behind young people's receding hairlines, a dull splash sounded, and his cheat arrived.

"Holy shit! Isn't it supposed to go ding? Why did it go thud?!"

He looked down. Oh, never mind.

After failing to communicate with his cheat, Lynn confirmed that it was a rigid mechanical program with no intelligence whatsoever.

And besides...

"This thing is basically forcing me to kill people... In Gotham... if I go out at night and grab someone at random to kill, I probably won't kill an innocent person by mistake. Mm... except anyone named Wayne.

"But... I can't get out right now!"

Simply put, Lynn's cheat was more like a large-scale gacha game with a single draw pool.

According to the cheat, it was for "[collecting soul essence for draws or exchanging it for goods]." Lynn's blunt understanding was that it was the business of the Grim Reaper and the Black and White Impermanence, huh~

But the problem now was that he needed to rely on the cheat to leave this place, while using the cheat's abilities required him to get out first.

He understood. It was a fucking cheat developed by Schrodinger.

After trying to attack a doctor and getting his dosage increased, then starting to see double, Lynn was depressed for several days.

Then one day, Lynn's not-smart-enough cheat once again went thud in his head... no, ding, and saved his life and soul.

[System error/code/unknown...]

[Newbie gift pack now being issued]

[Feedback method: unknown]

[Complaint method: unknown]

Lynn: ...

"Fuck... so this was the fucking surprise!"

He opened the package without hesitation. Waiting even one more second was too long!

Then Lynn received a [Random Character Skill from This Universe] and...

"A chain hammer?"

[Equipment Name: Soul-Reaping Lamp]

[Grade: Blue]

[Quality: Perfect]

[Function: Throw a lantern toward the target location. Allied/enemy units that touch the lantern will be rapidly drawn to the holder's side.]

[Function 2: Each soul harvested has a chance to yield a certain number of soul fragments. Soul fragments will strengthen the host's physical attributes.]

[Note: The upper limit of enhancement cannot exceed the host's tolerance limit.]

[Note 2: Lucian! Your wife screams the loudest!]