Chapter 234 Bel Hera

The corridor was as dimly lit as ever, most of the lights were broken, and there was no one in sight.

Sheen had thought that if all went well, she would be accompanied by security guards or nurses on her way to see Hera, but now she finally realized... why the mental hospital was so understaffed.

The dean has gone completely insane. It's outrageous. He's been on too many drugs, to the point of being mentally unstable.

She followed Fitz through two dimly lit, quiet corridors, down the stairs they had come up from, out the back door, and then toward another equally dilapidated building.

All the way there, the chain-smoker talked about the long history of Black Goat Asylum, saying it existed before the savior rescued them from their misery. Over three hundred years old, it boasted countless talented individuals and was the best mental hospital in all of New York, with the highest cure rate—Sheehan heard this kind of talk three times in just five minutes, really wanting to know what else he had to say.

Fitz could read the other man's expression—it was like he was looking at an idiot—so he could only mutter under his breath that since the founding of Heavenly Gospel Corporation, the elegant members of the board of directors had never visited N23. If they had spared a penny for replacement equipment and renovations, the place would never have become so desolate.

They arrived at the side building and went upstairs.

As Fitz said, most of the patients had moved out, and Sheen could see many half-open doors, some of which were wide open in the dark space, looking empty.

Those patients who weren't transferred in time either didn't have family members to pick them up, or they didn't have enough money to support themselves. She thought to herself, Bel Hera certainly didn't fall into either of those categories, but why didn't she? Perhaps she clearly knew she had nowhere else to go, so she willingly remained trapped in this cage she had built for herself.

They arrived at the sixth floor of the annex. Fitz opened the heavy iron gate. The walls around the gate showed severe paint peeling, but were still relatively sturdy. Behind the gate was a long corridor with the same layout as the main building. It had to be said that the facilities here were really old. Several energy-saving lights were broken, and only two or three were working properly, occasionally emitting a buzzing sound that echoed in the corridor.

"She's in room 027. Come with me."

On both sides were locked hospital rooms. Sheen could hear faint laughter and muttering to himself.

There were even suppressed laughs. These sounds blended together, creating a crazy and bizarre atmosphere.

“There’s nothing I can do, I’m the only night watchman in this hospital.” Fitz shrugged, took out the bunch of keys and weighed them in his palm, and introduced them to the Black Goat’s rare guest, “So there’s basically no chance for them to escape. Anyway, the room has everything, and there are enough supplies. I’ve even set up internet access so they can watch TV.”

He continued talking as he walked, but his expression was somewhat uneasy, as if he were talking about things he himself didn't understand: "Actually, there are still a few caregivers here, but they've all been frightened by patients. Last time, one careless guy was so lazy that he didn't lock the door, and a guy who escaped bit off his ear. I had to pay a lot of money to pay for it..."

“Sometimes these idiots deliberately lock the door and hide the key, so even I can’t find it. They have no conscience at all. They even forget to give me the tranquilizers I need, sometimes for days at a time. They’re utterly depraved.”

"It's quite brave that the patients in your hospital haven't committed suicide," Sheen thought. "According to the laws in America, all the staff below the hospital director would probably be sued and sentenced to several years of hard labor."

The night watchman looked closely at the number plate in front of a ward, then selected the corresponding key. "This should be it. She's usually very quiet, but sometimes she suddenly goes crazy."

A lamp was on inside, allowing Sheen to vaguely make out the interior—the room was only 15 square meters in size, with no windows; the dome, intended as a ventilation shaft, was welded shut. To the right was a row of dark objects, presumably a bed, on which Bel Hera was curled up. The room also contained a rudimentary shower, a wardrobe, a table, and a bench. As for supplies… there were none, making it difficult to believe whether the person inside was still alive.

Just then, they heard the person curled up on the bed humming a tune. Sheen leaned closer to listen carefully and found it to be a very gentle song, similar to folk music. The song was about a princess in a castle who waited day and night for the prince who would come to rescue her.

Fitz mumbled something, which she didn't hear clearly, but she saw the person reach out and turn on the room light—the scene inside suddenly became much clearer, and the dazzling light illuminated everything. Sheen saw the person lying on the bed and thought that she had finally met him.

She looked exactly like the photo Pandora retrieved from the database, except that she looked much more haggard and her hair had grown quite a bit longer; otherwise, she was completely unchanged.

At this moment, Bel Hera was wearing a black shirt that hadn't been washed in a long time. Surprisingly, she wasn't wearing a hospital gown. The woman's eyes were wide open, as if she were lost in some beautiful dream. Although her face was haggard, she was still extremely beautiful, the kind of beauty that could break your heart, but her pupils were too empty.

“Ms. Bell Hera,” Sheen began, her voice as cold and suffocating as the scene before her.

"I'm here to take you back."

The person on the bed completely ignored her and continued humming an unknown tune.

Sheen clicked her tongue. In a region where the flow of time and space was completely disordered, she stood in a desolate mental hospital, watching the B01 operative who should have died in Siberia immersed in his own world. Just like when she heard those creepy horror stories before, she felt extremely uncomfortable.

But she had to do it.

For Ethan, for all of humanity.

“Ms. Hera, I’m here to take you home,” she continued. “Please pack your things.”

What's there to tidy up? There's nothing worth taking from this place. Sheen looked around a few times. This barren house was like a cage. There was nothing to miss.

The other person seemed deaf, but Fitz finally reacted and suddenly raised his voice, asking, "What? You're taking her away?!"

“I have prepared the necessary passes you need.” Sheen walked into the room, took out stacks of documents that Pandora had previously sent her from her bag, and deftly took them all out.

"But she's very ill, you know, delusional disorder? The kind that makes people talk nonsense all day long, and it's very dangerous, it can even..."

“I know, these are documents, please take a look.” Sheen completely ignored what he was saying and took everything out of his bag.

“No, we are a professional organization, and we need her family to accompany her.” Fitz said seriously, as if he were bathed in the light of righteousness.

"Can."

Sheen sighed, then pulled a pen from his pocket and slowly said, "Tell me, do you want money or your life?"