WTNL Chapter 136

Ping’an Asylum
Chapter 136: No. 043, Intellectual Disability

It seemed that this time, the instance was some kind of psychiatric hospital.

The straitjacket was completely impossible to break free from the inside, so Wen Jianyan quickly gave up the attempt.

He turned his head to look outside through the iron bars.

Within his line of sight, it was pitch black. The vehicle, filled with a foul stench and meaningless noise, swayed as it moved forward in the night, making it completely impossible to see the road ahead.

Wen Jianyan withdrew his gaze and looked around inside the carriage.

Because his body and neck were firmly secured, his field of vision was extremely narrow. He couldn’t see the full picture of the entire carriage at all, nor could he identify which ones were his teammates from among them.

He originally thought that Blond would be the easiest to spot, but…

Wen Jianyan swept his gaze over the various hair colors in the distance and couldn’t help but sigh.

Unexpectedly, on this vehicle, black hair was actually the minority.

As time passed, after the shudder of the engine, the bus slowly came to a stop, and the doors opened.

Giggling, sleep-talking, and cursing merged into a noisy clamor. The psychiatric patients wearing straitjackets were yanked up from their seats one by one, driven off the bus like livestock.

Wen Jianyan followed the flow of people and walked down from the bus.

In the ink-heavy night, an old, grayish-white building appeared before his eyes. It was a Gothic-style building with a pointed roof, topped with a massive cross. It looked quite old and covered a large area. The peeling walls were covered in creeping ivy, and every window appeared exceptionally narrow, tightly sealed by mottled iron bars.

Soon, the psychiatric patients were herded into the building.

Wen Jianyan was shoved forward. As he walked, he rapidly analyzed the current situation in his mind.

This instance was vastly different from the previous ones.

First of all, as psychiatric patients, their range of movement and the things they could touch were all heavily restricted. Wanting to use a mobile phone like in the previous instances was almost impossible.

That is to say, whether it was point exchange or the format of the instance, a certain degree of change might occur.

Passing through the entrance, the hall was spacious and gloomy. The air was permeated with an uncomfortable smell of disinfectant.

Not far away, a long, narrow, dark corridor could be seen, along with an activity room at the end of the corridor.

Lively and brisk music drifted out from between the iron bars. Through the narrow gaps, many figures wearing blue-and-white hospital gowns could be seen.

Some people stood pressed tightly against the iron bars, the flesh on their faces squished deeply inward. Their deformed and crazed eyes fell upon the slowly advancing line, letting out bone-chilling giggles.

“Damn it, this is too creepy.”

An anchor walking beside Wen Jianyan whispered, withdrawing his gaze with lingering fear.

Wen Jianyan glanced at him quietly.

According to what he had observed so far, there were quite a few anchors in this instance. Among the psychiatric patients transported from the bus this time, anchors made up almost more than half; otherwise, the line wouldn’t have progressed so smoothly.

A person who looked like a head nurse walked out. Her face was flat and rigid, her eyes dull. She hastily swept a glance over the new patients being admitted before her and then said:

“Send them to be cleaned first, register them after they come out.”

“Cleaned? Are they planning to make us take a shower?” an anchor muttered.

“Should be.”

Wen Jianyan: “…”

He had an ominous premonition.

The psychiatric patients in straitjackets were stripped of their clothes in batches and forcefully, savagely pushed into the washroom.

The wall tiles in the washroom were peeling, and dirty water flowed underfoot. The facilities inside were pitifully sparse, and the cubicles were so narrow that it was almost impossible to turn around. Freezing water was pumped out from high-pressure nozzles, aimed by the orderlies at every body, carrying out a rough and savage cleaning.

Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth and slightly turned his head, enduring the pain of the forceful water stream scouring his skin.

The fierce water jets left abuse-like red marks on his fair skin. Water dripped down from his wet black hair, making him look exceptionally disheveled.

In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:

[!!!]

[Oh my god, this instance… is really playing for high stakes!!]

[Damn it, every time this happens I have to hate Nightmare’s censorship system!!!]

[Why can’t the camera pan down, why!]

After the rough “cleaning”, everyone was distributed a blue and white striped psychiatric hospital uniform. Wen Jianyan put it on at top speed. With a slight twist of his slender, nimble fingers, a narrow piece of mirror shard was tucked into the seam of his clothes—although they wore straitjackets on the outside, the clothes inside were still the ones the anchors had worn when entering the instance.

When the straitjacket was stripped off, Wen Jianyan used the fastest speed possible to fish the mirror shard out of his pocket and silently hid it in his palm.

After all, this item could not be stored in the system backpack. If it was lost, there would truly be nowhere to find it.

The dripping wet patients lined up in a row and, under the supervision of orderlies holding electric batons, shivered as they walked out of the washroom.

Wen Jianyan took the opportunity to turn his head and sweep a glance around.

Soon, two familiar figures appeared within his line of sight.

The closest to him was Blond. His head of yellow hair had turned brownish after getting wet, sticking limply to his face, making him look like a pitiful drowned dog.

He had the best eyesight and had obviously long since seen where Wen Jianyan was. Upon seeing Wen Jianyan look over, Blond’s eyes lit up completely. If there wasn’t a burly orderly standing right beside him, Wen Jianyan had no doubt that he would have jumped up and waved at him.

And about seven or eight meters behind Blond…

It was Su Cheng.

He had his head down, sluggishly following in the line. His wet hair blocked his pale face, making it impossible to see his expression clearly.

Wen Jianyan imperceptibly furrowed his brows slightly.

The head nurse from just now, holding a clipboard, appeared before everyone once again.

She registered them as she walked, reading out everyone’s number in a stiff tone. The orderlies following behind her would distribute wristbands representing those numbers to each patient:

“…Number 039, paranoid schizophrenia.”

“Number 040, sexual inversion.”

“Number 041, manic depression.”

“Number 043,”

The nurse stopped in front of Wen Jianyan. Her cold, wooden gaze rested on him for a moment, and she said, “Intellectual disability.”

Wen Jianyan: “…”

In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:

[Hahahahahahahahaha!]

[Lmao I’m dying of laughter, what the fuck, intellectual disability!]

[Hahahahahaha I reasonably suspect this is the instance taking deliberate revenge!]

[Laughing so hard I want to die lmao!]

An orderly stepped forward and placed a paper wristband on Wen Jianyan’s wrist, which was printed with his number and psychiatric disorder.

The moment the wristband was put on, a familiar system voice sounded in Wen Jianyan’s ears:

“Welcome, anchor, to the A-rank instance Ping’an Special Asylum. This instance is a point-accumulation type, non-time-limited instance!”

Point-accumulation type?

Wen Jianyan was momentarily stunned and searched his mind for memories related to this.

Although he hadn’t experienced this type of instance before, through his recent understanding, he still knew what the general mechanics of this kind of instance were.

The instance would randomly issue a series of tasks, with no distinction between main quests and side quests, but the point rewards would differ. After completing tasks, points would be accumulated, and upon accumulating a certain amount of points, one could automatically clear the instance.

Choosing simple tasks would make clearing slower, while choosing difficult tasks would make clearing faster.

“Accumulate 10,000 task points to clear the instance.”

The paper wristband flickered, and several lines of dense, tiny text surfaced.

[Identity Card]
Name: Wen Jianyan
Age: 24
Occupation: Nightmare Live Room Contracted Anchor
Related Storyline: Sent to Ping’an Special Asylum for inpatient treatment due to intellectual disability

[Survival time allocation complete]

A blood-red countdown started ticking: [5:00:00]

The next second, Wen Jianyan saw a small taskbar appear at the edge of his vision.

[Primary task issued: Head to your assigned ward]

As a relatively non-threatening intellectually disabled patient, Wen Jianyan was not put back into a straitjacket. He kept a low profile and followed the line, arriving at a single-patient ward on the third floor.

“Creak—”

The rust-mottled iron door was shut behind Wen Jianyan, making a loud “clatter.”

The moment he stepped into the ward, the familiar system prompt sounded in his ears:

[Ding! Congratulations to the anchor for completing the task: Head to your assigned ward.
Reward Points: 200]

Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes thoughtfully.

Primary tasks were indeed fast, but at this rate of point accumulation, God knows how long it would take to reach the 10,000-point total.

After completing the first task, the taskbar updated again:

[Primary task issued: Rest for one night in the ward]
[Intermediate task issued: Rest for one night in the solitary confinement room]

At that moment, Wen Jianyan heard a burst of chaotic noise coming from the other side of the iron door. He paused slightly, turned and walked to the door, looking out through the narrow window on it.

It seemed a psychiatric patient had gone mad and was trying to snatch an electric baton from an orderly’s hands. The corridor was in total chaos.

Shouts, loud laughter, footsteps, and screams mixed together, fermenting in the narrow, dim hallway.

“Bzzzz—”

The sound of electric current buzzed.

The psychiatric patient causing the chaos went limp and stumbled to the ground.

The instant he saw the person’s face, Wen Jianyan’s heart tightened.

The person snatching the orderly’s weapon…

Was actually Su Cheng!

Su Cheng’s eyes rolled back, his mouth askew. A sedative was injected into his neck, and his entire body lay limply on the ground.

“Send him to the solitary confinement room.”

The head nurse straightened her disheveled clothes and ordered coldly.

Fuck.

Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth.

This time it was 100% certain; it was absolutely the doing of those people from God’s Domain—

Making an anchor seek death right after entering an instance; if you wanted to kill someone, there was simply no faster or easier method than this.

“Hey, hey!!”

Wen Jianyan forcefully slapped the iron door with his palms, trying to attract their attention.

He kicked the door fiercely with his legs, displaying a highly aggressive and crazy side, trying to get himself locked up along with him: “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy! If you have the guts, take me away!”

“Bang!”

An orderly smashed the butt of his electric baton hard against the door: “Be quiet.”

They carried the limp Su Cheng and continued walking forward.

Watching their receding figures, Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth fiercely.

Damn it, this won’t do. In Su Cheng’s current state, being carried into the solitary confinement room meant almost certain death.

Right at that moment, an image he had seen earlier flashed through his mind—

The cross hanging right in the middle of the hall.

The Christian decorations hanging around the orderlies’ necks.

“Number 040, sexual inversion.”

When saying this sentence, a flash of obvious disgust had crossed the stiff-faced nurse’s expression.

“…”

Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes.

He knew that in the last century, homosexuality was classified as a mental illness for a period of time under the name “sexual inversion.”

After a brief silence, he raised his voice again:

“Hey, the handsome guy with the black hair in front, your ass is really perky; I bet the thing down there is pretty huge too?”

The orderly’s footsteps paused, and he turned his head to look over, his expression twisting with disgust.

It’s working.

The corner of Wen Jianyan’s mouth curled up.

“Don’t you know? I like men.”

Wen Jianyan pressed his entire body against the iron door, nestling the side of his face against the cold iron bars. The corners of his eyes tilted upward, and his amber eyes flickered with a bewitching light in the intertwining light and shadow:

“Wanna come over and have some fun?”

“Clatter.”

The limp Su Cheng was roughly thrown onto the ground. The two orderlies walked over with gloomy faces, raising their electric batons and shoving them through the bars: “Shut up, unless you want a taste of suffering too.”

“Can’t you understand what I’m saying?”

The young man laughed.

He raised his eyes. His slender index finger and thumb formed a circle, sliding up and down the electric baton suggestively.

“Then I’ll explain it a bit more clearly.”

Wen Jianyan leaned forward, a passionate fire burning in his eyes, acting as both temptation and provocation.

His voice was soft and his pronunciation impeccable, but the words he used were vulgar to the point of absolute crassness: “I like men’s d!cks.”

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