A faded note was pasted on the door frame, which read "Archives Room" and had an arrow pointing towards the stairs.
" Cheng Shuo, come and take a look at this," Song Shi'an called out.
Cheng Shuo walked over and looked at the note. He then took out a thin wire from his backpack, squatted down, and fiddled with the door lock for a long time.
Song Shi'an stood beside him, holding a flashlight to illuminate his path, and casually asked, "How come you have all sorts of things in your bag?"
"I'm used to going out." Cheng Shuo said without looking up.
Do you usually carry wire with you when you go out?! May I ask where you studied before, Lanxiang or New Oriental?
Half a minute later, the iron gate clicked open, revealing a narrow staircase leading downwards.
Song Shi'an peeked inside and saw a faint, eerie green light emanating from the end of the stairs.
"This is the way to the morgue," Cheng Shuo straightened up and glanced around. "The third medical record might be on the other side. Wait here and don't wander off."
"You go ahead, I'll go see what that is." Song Shi'an pointed to the green light below the stairs.
Cheng Shuo's expression clearly said, "Are you sure you can do it?"
"I'll go check and be right back. You guys keep looking." Song Shi'an waved his hand, clutching a flashlight as he walked down the narrow staircase.
The further down you go, the stronger the smell of formaldehyde becomes, and the steps under your feet change from terrazzo to iron railings, making a clanging sound when you step on them.
With every step he took, he cursed himself in his mind: Why did I have to get down? Wouldn't it have been better to follow Cheng Shuo to find the medical records? Why did I have to show off?
Reaching the last step, he stood before a half-open iron gate and peered inside through the crack.
Inside was a large room with rows of stainless steel freezers embedded in the walls. The beam of a flashlight reflected off the metal surfaces, creating cold white spots of light.
In the center of the room was a workbench with some instruments and an open record book on it.
Song Shi'an took a deep breath and then pushed open the door.
The chat instantly tensed up.
"No, An'an! Why are you going downstairs alone?!"
"Oh no, oh no, anyone who goes into a place like this is bound to get into trouble."
"I'm holding my breath, protected by the barrage of comments!!"
"Is there anything written in that notebook? An'an, take a look!"
Song Shi'an walked to the front of the control panel and shone his flashlight on the record book. The handwriting on it was messy but barely legible.
He read down line by line, his eyes widening with each reading, "... The third patient experienced hallucinations after surgery, claiming to see non-existent beings of their own kind... The fourth patient left the ward on their own at midnight; surveillance footage showed them disappearing around a stairwell corner... The fifth case..."
Turning to the last page, there was only one line written on it, the handwriting even more illegible than before. "They are not patients, they have always been..."
A cold sweat instantly broke out on Song Shi'an's back.
He suddenly looked up and caught a glimpse of something glowing in the gap of the freezer next to the counter.
After hesitating for a moment, I went over and opened the freezer. There was only an old cell phone lying quietly on a stainless steel tray.
The screen was still lit, displaying the message: "The safe period is over, the patient has woken up."
Upon seeing the message, Song Shi'an only wanted to curse the production team and ran away.
The comments section went completely crazy.
"Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap! The safe period is over early!!!"
"Who put that phone there? What do you mean the patient is awake? They were already moving around!"
"The few steps An'an took running up from the morgue had the flair of Bolt."
"I got goosebumps all over; the atmosphere of this variety show is just too strong."
As Song Shi'an rushed up the steps, he heard hurried footsteps and faint screams overhead. Someone was shouting, "Close the door! Close the door now!"
He rushed back to the first-floor corridor and saw seven or eight people blocking the door of a ward, forcefully pushing against it, with loud banging sounds coming from inside.
Cheng Shuo, standing at the back of the crowd with three medical records in his hand, saw him running back and immediately shouted, "Where have you been! Come upstairs!"
Before Song Shi'an could explain, he ran with the crowd toward the stairwell.
A group of people rushed up to the dean's office on the third floor. Cheng Shuo pushed open the door and everyone filed in.
Song Shi'an was the last to enter, and he closed the door behind him while turning the latch.
A dim desk lamp illuminated the room, and an old-fashioned computer sat in the center of the table, its screen displaying "Please insert three medical records."
Cheng Shuo placed the three medical record folders on the computer. A beep sounded, and the screen displayed the following message: "Second Round Task [Consultation]: Identify at least three of the six patients within one hour and enter their numbers into the system. Incorrect input will trigger an alarm."
The room fell silent.
Song Shi'an leaned against the wall to catch his breath, still thinking about what he had read in the notebook earlier.
He looked up at Cheng Shuo: "There were thirty-two of us when we came in?"
One of the baby-faced girls asked doubtfully, "Isn't the game just about thirty-two people?"
Song Shi'an, recalling the fleeting figure in the morgue and the cell phone, suddenly uttered a sentence that sent chills down everyone's spines. "There should be a thirty-third person."
The comments section exploded with messages.
"Holy crap, what is he saying? The thirty-third person!"
"Don't scare me! This is a variety show!!! I'm scared!!!"
"What's this guy babbling about? He doesn't even understand the rules of the game, and he still came to participate..."
Cheng Shuo frowned. "How do you know there are thirty-three people?"
Song Shi'an picked up the phone he had taken and waved it. "Here, this one. The rules say you won't know if you're a patient until the safe period is over. This person knew the safe period was over beforehand, so we can basically conclude they're outside the top thirty-two."
Someone nearby said, "How can you be sure it's not one of the thirty-two? Maybe the production team did it on purpose?"
Song Shi'an looked around the office and pulled out a piece of white paper and a pen from the table.
Cheng Shuo stopped him. "What are you doing? Time waits for no one!"
Song Shi'an shook his pen, which had stopped writing. "What can you do? Can any of you remember where those people were at the beginning, and what they were doing?"
The man in the suit said, "Who writes this down for no reason? What's the point?"
Song Shi'an didn't waste any words with them, and quickly drew a rough floor plan on the paper.
A few comments scrolled by.
"What is Song doing? I don't understand what he's doing?"
"Is this a floor plan of the first-floor lobby? I took a screenshot at the start of the game."
A moment later, Song Shi'an picked up the paper and showed it to everyone. "Six patients, each with different symptoms. They need to conceal their identities while also conforming to the patients' behavioral logic."
Everyone looked over, and there was a densely packed list of thirty-two people, each with their characteristics, position, and actions at the time, all simplified and written on it.
The live chat exploded with comments.
"The Brain?... Interesting. Does anyone know if this is real or fake? It's probably just showing off..."
"I'm not very good at this, but I just took a screenshot and compared it with the opening screenshot. Although I can't see what they're doing clearly, their positions match up..."
"Wow! A human body camera! It was only in the lobby for a few minutes!"
"Huh? Is this the master of memory space? I don't remember him looking like this."
"Upstairs, with your memory, even a fish has a better memory..."
Before Song Shi'an could speak, a hissing sound of electricity suddenly echoed throughout the hospital.
Immediately afterwards, a mechanical female voice came from the broadcast system, echoing in every corner.
"A hidden participant has appeared. Please proceed to Psychiatric Ward 207 on the second floor."