Hospital? No!

Hospital!?

Ryan stiffened at the word.

Others might not know, but how could he not?

He had not lost his memory at all. He had merely transmigrated.

Fine, that was even more unbelievable. Still, while there was a 99.9 percent chance that current technology would not detect anything wrong with him, what if it did? He had not forgotten that something like a system still remained inside his body. What if an X-ray scan showed a massive shadow in his brain and they said he needed emergency cranial surgery? What would he do then?

"What are you standing around for? Come over here!"

Mocha, already wearing his shoes, looked at the motionless Ryan and called out.

"Well, maybe there's no need. I think I'm doing pretty well right now, and I should head home and make lunch for Annie..."

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

Hearing Ryan's excuse, Mocha could not help scolding him. How could he possibly be fine after losing his memory? Mocha was starting to suspect that Ryan had lost more than his memories—perhaps he had lost his intelligence too.

"Little Ryan, listen to your Uncle Mocha. Be good and go to the hospital."

Rose, standing nearby, also tried to persuade him in the tone one might use with a child.

"But Annie..."

Ryan looked conflicted and still wanted to struggle a little.

"I'll have your Aunt Rose go to your house. Your little sister definitely won't go hungry. Now, come with me!"

Mocha strode into the house, grabbed Ryan by the arm, and dragged him outside. Ryan could only follow with a bitter smile.

Every excuse had been cut off. All he could do now was hope that system would come through for him.

The two walked one behind the other through the spacious hallway. Ryan remembered the lawyer waiting for him outside the building and could not help clearing his throat.

"Um, Uncle Mocha, there's something I didn't tell you."

"What is it?"

Mocha asked from ahead.

"Well, you know I lost my memory, so I... um, hired another lawyer."

Ryan gritted his teeth and finally forced himself to say it.

He was not some fool who knew nothing of human relationships. He knew how much his words would hurt the man ahead of him, who had been doing his utmost for Ryan's affairs. But it had already happened, and he could only bear the consequences of his choice.

"I'm sorry!"

Ryan apologized sincerely. Mocha, walking ahead of him, stopped.

"You have become much more cautious since losing your memory. But save that apology for when you get your memories back. After all, to the current you, I'm just a stranger. I understand."

Mocha patted his shoulder somewhat dejectedly and continued downstairs. Ryan felt the spot where he had been patted and silently followed.

New York was cold in December, and people on the streets all wore heavy coats.

After Mocha said a few words and sent away the lawyer who had tried to swindle Ryan out of three thousand dollars, the two drove to New York University Medical Center and began a series of detailed examinations.

Inside the director of neurology's office.

"How is he, Doctor? Is there any chance his memories can return?"

Mocha could not help asking as he watched the doctor study the scans for a long while.

"The scans look normal. There are no signs of nerve damage."

The doctor in the white coat set down the scans and turned to look at them.

"Based on your description, the patient most likely has psychogenic amnesia. In other words, something caused him to subjectively seal away his own memories. This type of amnesia is generally temporary, but the possibility of long-term or even permanent memory loss cannot be ruled out."

The doctor paused there, picked up a pen, and spoke as he wrote. "Your symptoms are somewhat unusual. Generally, patients with this kind of psychogenic amnesia cannot remain calm when facing the events that caused their memory loss,

but you can." The doctor gave Ryan a probing look, tore off the sheet he had filled out, and handed it to him. "Try taking some calming medication first and see how it works. At present, there is no particularly effective treatment for amnesia anywhere in the world. Perhaps you should seek out a psychologist instead."

Ryan accepted the prescription the doctor tossed over and felt slightly relieved.

It was fortunate that they had not detected anything unusual, though it was also within his expectations.

As for the doctor's suggestion that he see a psychologist, Ryan decided to toss that advice straight into the trash.

Was he not afraid that his transmigration would be discovered? Fooling ordinary people had already pushed Ryan's brain cells past their limit. Trying to fool a professional would only be possible if they remade him from scratch.

"Thank you, Doctor."

After a moment of silence, Mocha thanked him and led Ryan out of the office.

By the time they had collected the medicine according to procedure, it was already dark.

Ryan climbed into the back seat with a large bag of medicine and let out a long breath.

Today had been busy, but the most important issue—money—had been resolved. He could slowly deal with the remaining problems when he had time. His new life was finally starting to get on track.

"I'll help you contact the best psychotherapist."

Mocha, seated in the driver's seat, turned the ignition key, and the car rumbled to life beneath him.

Ryan jolted and immediately sat up straight. "That really won't be necessary. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, Uncle Mocha, but I really am fine right now. I don't have any desperate desire to recover my old memories."

"Then we'll talk about it later."

Mocha replied dully and stepped on the accelerator.

Soon, the car stopped outside Ryan's home. Ryan got out carrying a large bag of medicine and looked at Mocha, who sat silently smoking in the driver's seat. Suddenly, Ryan felt a little uncomfortable.

"Come inside and sit for a while, Uncle Mocha."

Ryan invited him.

"No, maybe next time."

Mocha shook his head, tossed the cigarette butt out the window, and said, "Your Aunt Rose should be at your house. Go ask her to come out. Also, there may be places where you'll need to show up in the coming days. I'll call you when the time comes."

"I understand." Ryan nodded and said sincerely, "Thank you!"

"Ha! Your father and I have been best friends since we were children. I don't need some little brat like you thanking me!"

Mocha waved his hand exaggeratedly. Ryan did not say anything more after seeing that. He simply remembered the favor in his heart and headed toward the villa.

"Aunt Rose, thank you for taking care of Annie today!"

After entering the house, Ryan spoke to Rose, who was watching television with Annie.

"It was nothing. Little Annie is very well-behaved. How are you? What did the doctor say?"

After praising Annie, Rose asked with some concern.

"The doctor said there's nothing wrong. Look, he even prescribed all this medicine."

Seeing how worried Rose looked, Ryan thought for a moment before replying.

"That's good!" Rose patted her chest in relief. Then, as if she had suddenly remembered something, she said, "I left dinner for you in the pot in the kitchen. Your Uncle Mocha should be waiting for me outside, so I'll head home first. Make sure you get plenty of rest and take your medicine on time..."

After nagging Ryan with a long list of instructions, Rose left. Ryan looked at the closed front door, his feelings complicated.