Chapter 235 Lost
After a very friendly academic exchange, Fitz agreed to Bell Hera's discharge from the hospital.
"You are such a considerate and gentle lady, but I must remind you... her condition is very serious, please take good care of her." Fitz was beaten so badly he was almost dead on the spot. Who knew this gossipy woman would hit him so hard, almost stabbing his throat with a pen? It was terrifying.
"If you're worried, you can call me anytime. Here's my business card."
Sheen took out a business card signed Eoubs from his pocket and solemnly placed it on the table. "Of course, you can come and see her when you have time." — Of course, he couldn't see or contact him; this thing was fake to begin with.
“I will do that…” Fitz muttered in response.
The person on the bed—Bell Hera—sat up like a ghost, got out of bed, and was putting on her shoes.
She moved very slowly, like an elderly person on their deathbed. She took another coat and draped it over her shirt, wearing only linen trousers. She looked dazed and half-asleep, and then stood still.
"Is there anything else you want to take with you?" Sheen asked.
Hera shook her head. If she hadn't done that, Sheehan would have thought she was so sick that she couldn't understand human speech and couldn't communicate.
"That's good then." Sheen breathed a sigh of relief and said this, then stepped forward, took her hand and walked outside. The night watchman still looked like she hadn't recovered from the beating, obviously still in pain.
She figured this guy probably wouldn't remember Bell Hera's discharge when he woke up tomorrow, or he'd probably take some drugs or read some magazines and forget all about it. Come on... there aren't many people left in this mental hospital, so don't be so dedicated, okay? Besides, that business card printed out in the Sui Dynasty will most likely end up in the trash anyway.
This can be seen from their use of the simple term "hysteria" to explain why the originally very clear-headed hospital director suddenly went mad and simply locked her in the ward in a half-dead state, without ever visiting her.
Hand in hand, the two walked into the bare corridor. The hallway was still filled with manic laughter and whispers, maintaining its eerie and absurd atmosphere. Thankfully, the heating was on, though so weakly that one wondered if the temperature control system was broken—practically nonexistent.
Sheen glanced at Bel Hera, who was wearing a thin coat beside her, and then looked out the window—outside was a cold wasteland that could be described as a science fiction blockbuster, and this ace operative, whose characteristics were so strong that she didn't know how to describe them, looked like she could die at any moment.
She pinched her brow, wondering how she could have forgotten to bring the hallucinogenic drugs. Then she took off her cotton-padded coat and draped it over the other person, thinking that if this person wasn't insane, they could probably survive even jumping into lava, let alone the dead of winter. But if something unexpected happened now, they would probably die like a normal person.
According to the information Sheen obtained, Bel Hera, as one of only two operatives sent to Heaven's Gospel for control missions, possessed conceptual abilities similar to He Yu's. Her resurrection after death... and subsequent placement in a mental hospital, were merely a specific arrangement; in fact, the entire course of events was orchestrated by her.
She adopted a state of weariness with killing and anguish, naturally playing the role of a pitiful person unable to manage her own life. The savior, Li Lin, had no need for such an unstable weapon, so she was abandoned in this desolate corner. If Pandora hadn't stolen the core database and selected the reinforcements, she might have been forgotten until death.
Bell Hera followed Sheen down the dark stairs and into the snowy night. She didn't seem as crazy as Fitz had described; at least she was very obedient.
“I don’t know how long you’ve been here, or if you’ve woken up, but you haven’t left Black Goat for a long time, have you?” She lit a cigarette and said, then glanced at the other person. “The Mirror of Eternal Dreams isn’t a pleasant place these days.”
The dutiful night watchman had no intention of seeing them off. After Sheen had given him a fully fuel-filled SUV, he said he couldn't wait to get back to his office and get a good night's sleep. When they left, he didn't seem to be in any particular hurry.
Sheehan thought for a moment and then asked, "Hey? You can say something, but I'm speaking in fucking English."
Hera just stared at her blankly, ignoring her completely, then walked to the SUV parked downstairs, turned around and stared straight at Sheen, waiting for her to open the door—as if she had already anticipated that they would use this opportunity to leave District N23.
Sheen cursed under his breath and walked over helplessly, unsure of his feelings. He unlocked the car door with his key, and the ace immediately jumped into the back seat—completely treating her like his personal chauffeur, damn it.
She took a few more puffs of her cigarette, wasted no more time, got into the driver's seat, and started the car.
Suddenly, the snow intensified, falling like a drunken maniac beneath the dome of the sky, which darkened considerably. Sheen turned the car onto the main street, retracing his steps at a safe speed.
She quickly drove out of the street she had come from and headed towards the main road outside N23 block. The surrounding scenery became increasingly desolate. The bloody illusions from before were gone, replaced by increasingly dense snowflakes and darkness that gradually took over everything.
This continued for ten minutes, until she realized she couldn't even see five meters away. The world had somehow become a cold, white expanse, with only the broken car, the two tormented poor people, and the dim light remaining.
Hera stared at the car window for a long time, then suddenly raised her hand and reached into the pocket of her cotton-padded coat, pulling out several suppressant drugs and a pendant.
Sheen was immediately furious and yelled, "Damn it, don't you dare go through my stuff, do you want to die?"
Hera stared blankly at the pendant, which had Sheen's name engraved on it. The workmanship was exquisite, and it was obviously an expensive item.
“How pitiful.” She finally spoke, uttering her first words of the entire trip, “He was trapped in a swamp, struggling constantly, and even in his last moments before sinking in, he was still thinking of you.”
Sheen suddenly swerved to the right, parked the car under a streetlight, then reached out and snatched the pendant, his pupils gleaming with an abnormally bright silver-gray light.
She knew she shouldn't have felt sorry for an idiot who was bossed around by the salon, and sure enough, this was her just desserts. What a damn bad luck.
“From now on, I don’t want to hear you talk about my past anymore, understand?” she threatened fiercely.
Hera simply sat there, her hand still in a clenched fist position, her expression blank, as if she had no idea what she had just done or said.
"Do you fucking know?!"
Sheen suppressed his urge to kill and asked again, his voice much louder.
"Okay, I understand."
Hera's voice was low.
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