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墨書 Inktalez
"Your suggestion should be carried out as you proposed," the commander said, his heart slightly moved as he smiled at the doctor beside him. "Alright, let's proceed with your plan. I have approved it. The funds will be provided by the Military Department and the association together. Get those Brainstem Surgery doctors here quickly to perform the operation; we can't afford to waste any more time."
"Understood," the doctor replied.
He took back the document and carefully compared it, noticing that a signature had already been affixed at the bottom.
"Try to get them here as soon as possible. We'll pay half upfront and the other half after the surgery is completed," the commander leaned in closer to look at the man in the Straightjacket on the hospital bed.
Shaking his head slightly, he murmured, "What on earth happened to you that brought you to this state?"
"Uh, Commander, please don't get too close. We’re worried that your appearance might startle him," the doctor instructed a nurse nearby before moving over to gently pull the commander back.
"It's alright, you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine; I'm very safe," a hint of sadness crossed the commander's face, realizing that the situation was worse than he had imagined.
After a long silence, the room fell eerily quiet.
Suddenly, a clear coughing sound broke through, "Cough cough cough, I want water, I want water~" a man's voice groaned out, marking the first time they had heard such sounds.
The raspy call startled everyone present. Did this mean he was fully conscious now? Fortunately, the money had already been transferred; it was still possible to retract it if necessary. The man on the bed writhed uncomfortably in his Straightjacket, clearly struggling with everything around him.
"He's thirsty; get him some water, quickly!" the commander urged an officer nearby.
The doctors hurried closer, and naturally, given their previous experiences, more personnel began to gather around.
They started asking Freyr a series of questions.
However, the man on the bed did not respond; his consciousness seemed caught between confusion and sleep.
"I want water~"
The plea continued. After several attempts to engage him without any immediate feedback, the doctors shook their heads in disappointment once again.
"Is this a sign of improvement or not?" the commander inquired.
The doctors shook their heads. Among them, one psychologist who was particularly articulate had been conversing with the commander since they arrived.
The director's impression of her had become deeply ingrained. The doctors exchanged whispers for a moment, and the psychologist revealed a hint of disappointment on her face. She shook her head slightly and continued, "Well, it seems that this is still an illusion? If this continues, a third personality may form. This current personality is gradually taking shape and needs treatment."
"Isn't that a good thing? The situation has only gotten worse," the director said, puzzled.
"It appears to be the case. We doctors can no longer help him; he can even break free from hypnosis. He can't rid himself of the poison in his mind, and the damage is already significant. For this, medication is not effective. Surgery to remove the Pons might yield immediate results. At that point, the psychologist can provide assistance in secret, and I believe he will soon become an ordinary person. However, he will likely have to return to normal society and won't be able to charge into battle again," the psychologist continued.
"That's all we can do now. It's a pity that we won't be able to obtain any information from his mind," the director lamented.
In truth, the director already understood that things could not develop positively from here.
The despair reflected in those eyes indicated that there was no possibility of healing; the damage was too deep.
Since he had already suffered such severe trauma, wouldn’t it be better to let him go? The compensation given to him would be more than enough for him to live comfortably for a lifetime.
"Yes, indeed," the psychologist agreed with a sense of regret.
They fell silent once more until suddenly there was a loud "Areca Palm!" as all the straps of the straightjacket snapped open, and the man on the bed slowly sat up, muscles tensing.
If it weren't for the few straps on his legs, he might have already started causing chaos.
"How is this possible? This isn't his active time; it's that frenzied personality! Quick, we need to get out!"
The psychologist quickly gathered his thoughts and commanded action. He grabbed the director's hand and dashed out at an incredible speed. By the time they reached the door, the man had already freed himself from the leg straps—not by unfastening them with his hands but by tearing them apart with sheer force. The straps offered little resistance. Once he felt some relief, he immediately charged toward the door.
"Close the door!" A button outside suddenly activated, and a bright red alarm blared to life, illuminating the corridor.
The door slammed shut tightly. The psychologist rushed back to a virtual screen and activated the nearest camera.
He began typing furiously on the keyboard and soon saw the man inside the room swinging his fists against the door.
The door covered with nanomaterials remained sturdy; however, there were now more fist imprints on it than before, and they were deeper.
Although the nano layer was effective, it wouldn't hold him back for long. Given enough time, that door would not withstand him indefinitely.
The psychologist hurried to another side, elbowing through reinforced glass to pull up a manual lever.
A skull symbol adorned the top of the Gate, a clear indication that this place was anything but safe. Even an ordinary person would feel a chill just looking at it.
The psychologist mustered all their courage and pulled the Gate open with a forceful tug.
"Whoosh~"
Soon, everyone's gaze shifted back to the Virtual Screen, where the room was enveloped in a thick white mist. The speed at which it formed suggested that several pipes were expelling this faintly white gas. It was a silent Hypnotic Gas, and just inhaling it could induce a sense of dizziness.
However, the amount was excessive, but precautions had to be taken.
The Hypnotic Gas filled the room, and the man outside the door, exposed and vulnerable, began to show signs of fatigue; his movements slowed considerably.
Humans were indeed the most terrifying creatures. With just this, they could subdue a man who posed a significant threat and exhibited aggression.
If he were not one of their own, he might have already been reduced to a pile of shredded flesh in a room filled with machine guns.
Instead, he received special attention. After being filled with Hypnotic Gas, he was redressed in a Straightjacket.
Each strap had to be meticulously redesigned, tightly binding him from head to toe, leaving only his eyes visible.
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