Chapter 130 Aftermath Interrogation (Schedule settings changed...)
Hi~ How was your day?
In the pristine white room, you looked at the woman across from you, who was smiling gently, and forced a smile yourself.
This is your fourth day at this medical station.
Four days ago.
You were lowered out of the rainforest by ropes.
The rescue team members were all wearing waterproof tactical suits, and their faces were completely covered by masks.
They remained silent, their figures were similar, and for a moment you even felt that they were clones of the same person.
"Where are we going?" you ask, bewildered and anxious.
You don't need to act; your mental state is bad enough to evoke sympathy from these people. However, they still didn't say anything, but simply handed you the rescue blanket and told you to wrap yourself up.
The wind howled in your ears, and when you looked down, the woodland where you had survived for five whole days looked like a dark abyss.
Only this abrupt highland plain is the sole diseased and rotting yellowish-brown scar.
Your lips are pale.
You're thinking about what you should do next.
You told Becca that if everyone on the team died, even if her ritual succeeded, she and Professor Shia would lose their freedom. Now, you've gambled everything and negotiated with Becca until the very end, hoping to salvage the situation, but you've become the sole survivor.
Will you be expelled?
No matter what happens, Ruko's identity cannot be revoked; this is a prerequisite for survival.
You need to think carefully about how you can make yourself appear more like a complete victim—even though you already are.
The landing site was a nearby U.S. military emergency liaison point, an emergency response center jointly established by multiple organizations.
Surrounded by the crowd, you walked in looking disheveled.
"Don't be nervous," a tall, muscular officer in a green uniform said softly. "We know you've been upset, but we won't pressure you."
She spoke softly, her movements like those of someone comforting a cat that had just been pulled from the scene of an explosion.
You quickly went along with her attitude and started playing the role of a pitiful, sick cat.
Unfortunately, her attitude was just that—an attitude. What you're facing right now is hours of non-stop recorded interviews.
You sit on a plastic chair. The man opposite you only gives his surname before showing his identification—Fopola Field Officer. An assistant is also present, recording your every move.
I bet you were squeezed out of your sight even after glancing there a few times.
You could only lower your head, trembling, then scream and burst into tears, clutching your head.
Of course, if they lift your arm, they'll see you staring with wide eyes to make your tears seem more real.
"Let her go and rest first. There's no way to get anything out of her in this state of psychological trauma."
You hear them saying, relax your shoulders.
You were led deep into the base by someone dressed in white, who you couldn't tell was either a doctor or some kind of staff member.
After full-body disinfection, blood tests, and many other procedures that made you feel like you were being treated as a source of infection, you were finally placed in a ward that resembled a medical pod.
Every day after that, the nurse would come back and knock on the door at six o'clock in the morning to regularly check your temperature, heart rate, blood oxygen and blood pressure, and even draw blood to check your hormone levels.
Around noon, there are EEG and memory reaction tests. Bright lights flash in front of you, and the sounds of rainforest insects chirping come through your headphones.
You want to observe those in white coats, but you quickly realize that under this level of surveillance, the more ulterior motives you have, the easier it is to put yourself at a disadvantage.
Relax and follow the sounds to think about everything that makes you uncomfortable or afraid.
"Okay, thank you for your cooperation."
The doctor removed the medical equipment from your body, and you took the opportunity to ask pitifully, "Doctor, when can I go out? I'm really scared. Can I... still go to school?"
The doctor smiled.
"Don't worry, it will get better."
It's really hard to get information out of them.
However, luckily you have enough "traumatic experiences" in the instance, so acting it out wasn't difficult for you. Haha.
They didn't suspect anything, and the evidence was that they would give you a white pill every night, saying it would help you sleep.
You obediently swallow it, and after the nurse checks your mouth, wait a little longer. Then, naturally cover your head with the blanket and carefully remove the pill that you swallowed but didn't completely.
This is really a very uncomfortable job, and it's inevitable that some of the medication will end up in the body.
You need to stay alert. At least not now. Thankfully, it really is just a sleeping pill.
You always fall asleep thinking: what exactly are they trying to get out of you, and what can you possibly say?
The fact that you are still alive and well in the instance indicates that your student status is not currently affected by this incident.
What if you're convicted? Then again, how can they convict you?
In fact, you are innocent; but how can you be sure that your status as a mere émigré will not be manipulated and distorted?
When you couldn't come up with a solution after thinking about it for a long time, a brilliant idea suddenly came to you.
It means... to tell the truth.
Um…
The instance world is a huge place of paranormal events for you "outsiders," but it is pure reality for the locals. Pointing out these things to the locals will bring disaster upon yourself.
But I imagine there are ghost stories and urban legends in the local community, so if you just tell the truth and confess all of Becca's actions, they probably won't go into some kind of terrifying state because of it.
After figuring this out, you completely came to regard this place as your happy hometown.
When the nurse asks you what you want to eat, just order freely.
"Kangshifu Braised Beef Noodles." You blinked your innocent and sad eyes. "I think eating some hometown-style dishes would help me feel better."
The nurse really thought about it for a long time and said she would help you find it.
Of course you know you're just joking, teasing this sister who's usually very kind to you.
I didn't expect her to actually buy it for you.
It turns out that there were Fujianese people selling instant noodles in the rainforest.
Okay, you're eating spicy and satisfying instant noodles, shedding tears of happiness.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
Early on the fourth day, the doctors and nurses gathered around and said that you were recovering well and could leave.
You clapped along and laughed, but a sense of heaviness settled in your heart.
You knew you wouldn't be "let go" so easily. Sure enough, as soon as you left the medical base, you were back in that small interrogation room from the beginning.
This time, Teresa, the field agent in Fopolis, seems to be a wolf in sheep's clothing.
She held your hand and asked you a lot of questions about your health in a kind and gentle way, as if she really just wanted to chat with you about everyday things.
You know nothing about the details of what you studied in the US, or what relationships you have. If she keeps asking you these questions, you will only expose more things related to your identity, which will have a far greater impact than the summer camp incident.
So you slammed your fist on the table.
The plainclothes officer standing behind Theresa immediately pulled out a loaded gun and pointed it at you.
"Don't be so nervous, our children are no threat." Theresa raised her hand, signaling the plainclothes officer to put his gun away.
She finally put away the ever-present big sister smile on her face, instead lowering her eyebrows, pressing down on her eyes, and making her lowered eyes sharp.
Her face was full of meaningful inquiry. She leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her face.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here to help you, and I'm on your side."
You gritted your teeth, your lips trembling, and finally asked in a low voice, "You really... want to know? You really will help me?"
Theresa smiled slightly, her tone firm: "Of course."
You nodded gently, as if finally giving up the struggle, and exhaled, then spoke slowly and deliberately: "They're dead. Not an 'accident,' not a 'beast attack,' they were... they were swallowed!"
"swallow?"
"That damned spell... these indigenous witchcraft..."
Your speech slowed down, then suddenly sped up again until it got out of control, and your voice started to rise: "Do you know 'Cordyceps sinensis'? That thing that grows by hollowing out the body of an insect after being parasitized... no, it crawls out of the throat of a living person!"
"I saw their heads split open and they were still laughing, with muddy water flowing from their eyes!"
"Do you know how I survived?" you yell, completely breaking down. "They were all insane, they were monsters, and I had to run for my life. I was the first to realize something was wrong with them, so I survived!"
You suddenly raise your arm, wanting to tear open your sleeve to reveal the scars you got from being hit by Becca and from trying to save people afterwards.
Your actions were too aggressive. The plainclothes officer by the door pressed the alarm instantly, and there was a soft sound outside, like an electric lock falling.
But you didn't stop; instead, your emotions intensified: "I looked at her—Becca, she was the last one, you know? She begged me to burn the fungus! I, I had to throw down the lighter and run back to camp! The others, the others were all eaten by the boxes! The fungus was burrowing in her throat! Do you believe me? You have to believe me!"
When you act out a madman, you suddenly become ruthless and lose yourself in the moment; all the pent-up emotions of the past few days explode at this instant.
You sat back down in your chair, murmuring softly, "You won't believe me... I see it all too clearly. You're the ones who's crazy. You know perfectly well—no, you don't know—that there are things in this world that are beyond your control..."
You suddenly open your eyes wide and slam your fist on the table: "I want to go home! I want to go home right now! I want to leave this place! You can't lock me up anymore, I'm not sick, I'm perfectly fine, I have a passport, I have a visa—I want to go to the embassy!"
You stand up and rush towards the door, only to unsurprisingly bump into the locked metal door. You pound on the door with all your might, the sound deafening.
"Let me out! I don't belong here! I've survived, and you're going to send me back?!"
You broke down again, screaming, "Let me out... I beg you... I want to go home, I really just want to go home..."
You collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Theresa didn't move. She just stared at you silently, expressionless. You were like the last gasp of a machine struggling, finally exhausted.
After a moment, she stood up and asked calmly, "Are you finished?"
You look at her; her throat is hoarse, and she can't speak, she just nods.
She walked to the door, knocked, and the door opened. She and the plainclothes officer went out. Before leaving, she glanced at you and whispered, "Get some rest. You really need it."
Several people in white uniforms walked in, one of them saying calmly, "We're going to take you back to your ward."
You were exhausted and let them take you away.
You were helped to your feet and led out of the interrogation room, then back to the medical ward you knew all too well.
That's it, let them investigate. Nobody can do anything to you until the investigation is complete.
You lie on the bed, the blanket covering your cold toes.
In a daze, you drifted off to sleep.
When you opened your eyes again, a strong smell of disinfectant hit your nostrils.
You instinctively reach out to pull back the curtains, but your hand is bound to the bed rail by some kind of fabric restraint.
You were startled and jerked slightly, making a metallic click from the edge of the bed.
You then realize that this is not the same hospital room as before.
There must have been medicine in that glass of water—after you were taken back to your ward, the medical staff gave you a glass of warm water to soothe your emotions, and you had no reason to refuse.
Since you're already here, let's see what awaits you this time.
Take a closer look.
This is a new room. The ceiling is so low.
Upon closer inspection, you'll see that the walls have been completely covered with a thick layer of soft foam padding.
A surveillance camera glowed red in the corner of the ceiling, and the door was made of double-glazed glass with a steel lock.
There was a fixed iron toilet in the corner, and only a curtain could provide privacy.
The windows were made of narrow, locked glass.
You heard faint footsteps and the sound of wheels turning.
The door opened, and a nurse walked in.
She took the tray off the cart; on the tray were a glass of water and a pill.
She gave a professional smile.
Hi, how are you feeling today?
Before you could answer, she said, "You're seeing the doctor today."
You asked in a hoarse voice, "...Where is this place?"
As if triggered by some key word, she smiled and replied, "Welcome to the Valley Mental Health Center. We will provide you with the most professional services and treatment."
"Come on, don't be afraid, take the medicine."
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Author's Note: (If the "Fobole" meme gets too cheesy, I'll change it immediately. Mainly, I kept chuckling to myself just thinking about using it before I even started writing. Happy Dragon Boat Festival!! ^ ^)
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