The Law Of Virtual Body Energy And Its Medical Application: A New Paradigm For Diagnosis And Treatment Based On Virtual Reality Mapping Chapter 2

Terminal Lucidity Forged by Hormones and Energy Release

Nearly a month had passed since the accident, and today was the day Qi Ruiqing was to be discharged from the hospital.

Several acquaintances from the hospital accompanied him through the procedures. The intern girl had even gone so far as to put up a bright red banner in celebration.

Stop it, stop it. His face burned at the sight of the garish banner, and he hurriedly reached out to grab the part with his name on it. Dont mess with me, this is embarrassing.

So what? You survived a great disaster, so you’re bound for good fortune. Cant I even celebrate that? The intern snatched the banner back and continued to wave it jokingly.

Fine, fine, I really appreciate it. Just pack it up and go wave it at my house. Let’s skip it in a place like this…

A colleague from the same department walked over and patted him on the back. Although his two broken ribs had already healed, he felt a phantom twinge of pain.

Everything is processed; you can leave now. Oh… thanks. The director told me to urge you to get back to work.

Didnt I just get discharged? Qi Ruiqing squinted at him with the look one might give a scammer.

Dont look at me like that, there’s a second half to the sentence: There have been way too many neurology patients lately. If you don’t come back to help share the load with your specialist appointments, we’re going to work ourselves to death. At what point did you start making things up? I’m being framed! I’m telling the truth!

He was indeed telling the truth.

During this past month, Qi Ruiqing had not been entirely cut off from the world. He had read every follow-up report on the accident and checked every list of the deceased and missing. He had been interviewed as a primary witness, and he knew that various strange incidents had been occurring frequently since the event.

Yet, these were being categorized as psychological and psychiatric disorders. A massive influx of bizarre patients had been crammed into their department, though most of them were actually suffering from psychosomatic symptoms or nervous breakdowns following the disaster.

I’m seriously going crazy! Why are they so desperate to prove they’re sick?

Qi Ruiqing stared at the dark circles under the eyes of his colleague and assistant through the rearview mirror, shaking his head helplessly. In his current mental state, he really couldn’t go back to help.

Then how are you handling the actual patients?

Administering sedatives, prescribing placebos, performing electrotherapy or magnetic therapy where feasible and cooperative, and if all else fails, excising redundant tissue and isolating them in the hospital.

Qi Ruiqing knew as well that these mutations originated entirely from the human heart. The more they doubted themselves and the more their emotions intensified, the more severe the illness became. This was a high-risk, stubborn disease that could not be treated with medicine once it reached an uncontrollable state…

The military calls this Aberration and has classified it into three levels. For those who are already unrecognizable and unable to communicate normally, we can only send them away to be contained.

Qi Ruiqing looked outside as their car passed his former campus. Inside the electrified fences, that familiar dormitory building remained as quiet as it did during every summer break, but in reality, it had long since become a military base.

Controlling… the uncontrollable? How? He propped up his head, his gaze sweeping over the changed landscape as he continued to press for answers.

Then they are monsters.

Like zombies in a disaster movie, though fortunately, they weren’t infectious in a physiological sense.

The situation has improved somewhat now, and cases outside the Restricted Zone are decreasing. I heard the government task force is making good progress; they’ll probably develop a treatment method soon. The colleague was a decent person. Although the director wants you back as soon as possible, don’t rush. Who wouldn’t want a free vacation? Right?

A free vacation? Yes, I was invited to the laboratory as a consultant, earned some extra cash, and received government subsidies, all at the cost of the minor of minor injuries.

It’s a great deal, isn’t it?

But I survived and got a free vacation… what about those who died? Did they go to heaven for a vacation?

Qi Ruiqing knew they were trying to act as if nothing was wrong, but they were truly misdirecting their efforts.

Perhaps because the disdain and sorrow on his face were too obvious, the colleague, realizing he had misspoken, quickly made small talk with the intern and stepped on the gas to leave this troubled place.

He was escorted all the way into his residential complex and to the bottom of his building. Those two rascals insisted on watching him go upstairs before they finally left in peace.

Their taillights disappeared at the end of the road, and Qi Ruiqing’s gaze shifted from the ground to the distance. Back when he was a student, he had felt lucky to live in a school district house so close to campus, but now that advantage had become a flaw that only added to his distress.

He struggled to pull his gaze away from the distant ruins, stomped his feet hard, and turned to open his front door.

Ruiqing, you’re back.

The aroma of chicken soup was rich and savory. His mother’s voice emerged warmly along with the porcelain pot she was carrying.

Mom. Yes, yes, perfect timing. Help Mom bring out the fish too.

Fish as well? This much? He pressed a hand to his forehead and walked over to help her set down the chicken soup. I told you not to overwork yourself. Why don’t you ever follow doctor’s orders?

Despite his words, he obediently went to help her carry the fish. That dish of scallion-fragrant yellow croaker—his absolute favorite—smelled intoxicating, and the familiar scent couldn’t help but lift his spirits.

There’s only two of us, why do we need so much? He stopped his mother, who simply couldn’t stay idle, and served the rice. This is exactly how you got your heart disease, you know?

Oh, you know your mother was born to work!

How could Qi Ruiqing not know? Growing up in a single-parent home, he had enjoyed the same happiness as anyone else. How could he not be aware of the hardships his mother had endured along the way?

Then your dear son thanks the Queen Mother.

The food was delicious, and his mother’s hands were still strong. He felt the wrinkles on the back of her hand and knew the only way to repay her love was to eat a hearty meal.

I know what you’re thinking.

A chicken leg was added to Qi Ruiqing’s bowl.

As the saying goes: Heaven doesn’t help the miserable. Life is something more pitiful than the rice in the fields; it rots through as soon as the rain hits it. People are the same. A fire starts, the funeral suona plays, and a person is gone.

Qi Ruiqing pursed his lips and kept his head down without speaking.

I’m uneducated, so I can only speak in folk sayings. I know you’re sad about that classmate of yours…

Qi Ruiqing suddenly gripped his chopsticks tight. A surge of emotion rose up, and he could only shove a piece of fish into his mouth to suppress it.

I’ve performed so many surgeries, and I’ve come to understand something. If you’re alive, you should be grateful, and all you can do is live well. After all, no one knows what might happen one day, right?

Don’t say such gloomy things… Qi Ruiqing interrupted her, unable to bear it. You’ll live to be a hundred.

Fine, fine. But what about you?

…I’ll be fine too. If only for your sake, to prevent you from one day hearing terrible news that your heart couldn’t take, I will be fine.

Mom, Qi Ruiqing forced a smile, I want to eat this fish again tomorrow.

…

The night was deep.

In the unlit room, he hadn’t drawn the curtains. He simply let the searchlights from the Restricted Zone sweep through the window, over the various documents scattered on the desk, and then quickly slip away to patrol the next window.

Qi Ruiqing lay there quietly, chewing over the various emotions in his heart.

His chest still ached with a dull pain, as if it would never get better. He understood clearly that he was merely trapped in a stress state due to trauma. He shouldn’t be self-deprecating or whining about not being able to save anyone.

Messages on his phone screen were constant. He had many friends and a wide social circle. He ignored the celebrations and greetings he didn’t want to see, fruitlessly scrolling as he blindly searched for what he was hoping for.

His gaze finally landed on the profile picture of that Senior Sister. Knowing full well that she was also undergoing trauma recovery, he messaged her as if possessed.

This Senior Sister, who had survived by pulling him along as they fled, shared almost the same social circle as him. They both knew the same person.

Or rather, they had witnessed the same person’s death.

His hand hovered over the input box for a long time, not knowing how to start, until his hesitation was noticed by the person on the other side.

Shen Molin’s death wasn’t your fault. You did your best.

It was true. Without tools, they couldn’t have possibly gotten Shen Molin out. And Qi Ruiqing hadn’t broken his promise; it was just that before the rescue team he had summoned could even enter the building, the second explosion occurred.

You can’t prove he wasn’t the one who caused all this. He’s made a foul mess of things more than once.

As the only person in the laboratory at the time, Shen Molin indeed couldn’t escape primary responsibility for the disaster. Qi Ruiqing had indeed seen it with his own eyes—he saw Shen Molin standing indifferent in the face of the sudden catastrophe, even wearing that familiar, loathsome, strange, and relishing expression…

Ten-odd seconds… Shen Molin was clearly standing right by the door. That was enough time for him to open it and escape.

But setting all that aside…

Stop worrying about him.

Qi Ruiqing tossed his phone aside and sighed.

He knew tonight was destined to be sleepless.

The white light from outside swept in once more, dutifully patrolling everything around. He stared directly at the source of the light, feeling the unwillingness and resentment in his heart amidst the glare.

The screen, facing up, lit up again. He hesitated for a long while before choosing to try one more time.

Fortunately, this time, he got his wish.

Emergency Rescue Volunteer Registration Channel—he carefully read the link sent by his Senior Sister and quickly sat up in bed.

Shen Molin is already dead. If you still can’t move on, go save someone else.

…

The person in charge of rescue recruitment turned out to be an elementary school classmate; the world was truly small.

Qi Ruiqing hadn’t intended to use his connections at first. He only wanted to follow orders and quietly do what he could. But the other party recognized him and took the initiative to find him.

Qi Ruiqing, I remember you were from this university.

Qi Ruiqing added: Yes, I studied psychiatric neurology. I was at the scene when the accident happened.

Oh, I see. The vanguard unit is short a medic. Are you willing to follow them deep into the accident site?

It was exactly what he wanted.

But because he was too anxious, Qi Ruiqing overlooked a serious problem. This problem was grave and potentially fatal, and he realized it too late: It had been a month. How could the vanguard unit responsible for excavating ruins and advancing detection work not even have enough first-aid doctors?

Until he witnessed the reality of the front line.

Severed limbs with reversed joints fused together, beasts that had become human-faced cats for unknown reasons, monsters howling endlessly, crying out, It hurts, it hurts… various kinds of people, dead or alive, being carried away or led away in chains. It was as grotesque as an alien world.

He hadn’t expected the impact of this disaster to be so terrifying—perhaps he really was the luckiest one.

Shen Molin…

Doctor, are you okay?

It’s nothing, nothing. He was a doctor, after all. He saw the team members had already marked the corpses; they seemed to have grown accustomed to these bizarre existences.

Are these Level 3 Aberrations? he asked the captain.

These aren’t people anymore; they’re just monsters. The captain shook his head. You have to be careful. The last two medics were bitten to death by these things.

Qi Ruiqing swallowed hard and lowered his head to wipe the bloodstains off his glasses.

The explosion originated from a surge in anomalous energy, and the mutation originated from excessive individual thought—this was the only valid information currently available. Patients would undergo physical changes due to some overly intense emotion or desire. The physical forms of these mutations varied from case to case, with almost no discernible pattern.

Level 3 Mutations were far more terrifying than Level 1 or 2. Currently, there was no treatment. Those with Level 3 Mutations could be said to be completely controlled by thought; they were immersed in their own worlds and had long since become monsters of thought.

Experts had tried to have the patients’ relatives and friends persuade and comfort them, but the patients’ emotions instead infected the family members. To avoid widespread panic, the authorities had never publicly explained how Level 3 Mutations were handled, but Qi Ruiqing understood that it was essentially a death sentence.

Taking their bodies away to confirm their identities is the only thing we can do.

Finding the truth behind the explosion, understanding the thought mutations, and mending the fold—these were the most urgent tasks.

But in a month, the military had only been able to advance from the school gate to the teaching area near the blast center. And they had only just stepped into this teaching building connected to the laboratory when monsters began to pour out as if starved.

From the main entrance of this building to the center of the explosion is only a few hundred meters, no more than five or six minutes on foot. But no matter how we detour, we can’t accurately reach the designated location. The captain likely already knew Qi Ruiqing’s background. Research has found that the space here no longer seems to be linear.

Is that so? Truly unimaginable.

Qi Ruiqing frowned in silence. After a moment, he looked around and pointed to the iconic Library on campus.

The basement level of The Library is connected to the underground garage of the laboratory building. The Library wasn’t open on the day of the explosion, and the damage there was relatively minor. We might be able to try entering from there.

It was a good suggestion. The captain reported the situation and received permission.

Qi Ruiqing followed the team as they smashed open the locked doors and climbed over the unpowered card-reading turnstiles. He remembered how he used to struggle to snag a good seat here, and how he had slaved away over difficult foreign language materials to complete his tutor’s assignments…

Back then, he wasn’t alone.

No… he had too many friends. That person was just a passing traveler in his life. They weren’t even considered friends now.

Vivid memories drifted wistfully through the excessively silent corridor. Qi Ruiqing suddenly realized that the normalcy and ordinariness here were completely at odds with the chaos outside.

It was too quiet, too orderly. An explosion so violent it could shatter the windows of distant residential buildings hadn’t even managed to shake these few tattered books off the shelves?

Who’s there! The captain’s reaction was faster as he raised his gun. Come out!

Qi Ruiqing’s heart grew inexplicably anxious, an itch as if someone were squeezing it in their hand. The figure between the shelves moved again for him, and he saw a large shape only two bookshelves away from the squad.

Come out!

The black shadow paused, then began to move outward.

Qi Ruiqing stared unblinkingly until he fully realized what he was seeing.

Murphy’s Law—do you know it? Those were the first words Shen Molin had ever said to him, spoken with an arrogant and disdainful tone that made one’s teeth ache with irritation. I was worried about running into idiots and losers before I came here.

But Shen Molin… you’re already dead.

That proud owl had eyes like citrine; the emotions within them were only positive and joyful when he was performing experiments. He was also exceptionally strict, stubborn, and obstinate—not a single likable trait.

But Qi Ruiqing knew that this disposition was something Shen Molin had inherited from his parents. This… friend of his was born into a scholarly family.

You’re going for a postgraduate recommendation? Shen Molin had lightly caught a falling feather as he spoke to him. My mom has a project. Do you want to join?

At this moment, Qi Ruiqing surprisingly couldn’t recall a single one of Shen Molin’s flaws. After his loss, time and regret had polished Shen Molin into a perfect, idiosyncratic, and fragile artifact.

But Shen Molin, you’re already dead.

Shen Molin, you’re already dead!!!

Before Qi Ruiqing could truly see that face clearly, before their guns could fire, those eyes flicked over with ferocity, and then a hand was raised to point at the slogan on the wall.

Silence.

Shen Mo—

Shh.

Before that name could be fully uttered, the darkness before him enveloped him even faster along with a sense of suffocation. The sound of firearms and bodies hitting the floor cluttered his ears. Qi Ruiqing knew he had fallen as well, because he could no longer see anything.

He couldn’t breathe—as if he had never known how. Someone had stripped him of control over his own body, deleting that most basic ability from his brain.

But the darkness was soon dispelled. The haze cleared, and that face was already close before his eyes, looking toward him through the hazy light from the window.

Shen Molin… He reached out toward him with all his might, but caught nothing.

I would rather… you were dead…