Chapter 389: Bizarre Stitching (1)

Chapter 389: Bizarre Stitching (1)

In Stark's field of vision, Schiller, dressed in a doctor's uniform, slowly walked up several steps and arrived at the center of the empty space in front of the door. When he opened his arms, the light from the top of the high tower shone on him, with layer upon layer of floors and stairs behind him, seemingly endless.

"Welcome to my thinking palace," Schiller said, and then lowered his head and said, "Regardless of when or where, those who are different from ordinary people are called patients."

"But when you are unable to gain an advantage in a group using ordinary methods, then being the sickest person is the only way to break free from this mediocre and dull life."

They heard Schiller's tone become more intense.

"If you can't cure this madness, turn it into an incomparable power and abandon conformity with ordinary people..."

"Be a fearless, insane patient."

Although Charles had already seen such a scene, he was still amazed by the unique temperament emanating from Schiller at this moment.

The world's most powerful mind reader was very clear that a person's mental world was his greatest charm, and he had never seen anyone like Schiller, who had such a unique and irresistible charm in his spiritual world.

Stark and Steve were silent. Now they finally understood why Charles said Schiller couldn't be cured, or rather, he didn't need to be cured.Fôll0w current novÊls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m)

If a person can have such a magnificent spiritual world and only appear slightly different from ordinary people on the surface, then no one has the right to treat him as a patient, and no one is qualified to treat him.

Just as Stark was about to speak, he heard a "click" sound from behind him. He turned his head and saw a large lock hanging on the door that Schiller had closed.

"I don't like guests who leave without saying goodbye, especially someone who speaks of curing me," Schiller smiled and said. "Since you have come to my house as guests, how can I not find something to entertain you?"

Steve also looked back at the lock and said, "Do you plan to lock us up here? Is that your idea of entertainment?"

"No, why would I use a lock to entertain others? That's just to prevent you from leaving too early. After all, there are not many visitors here. When guests come, they should stay a little longer."

Stark had a bad feeling. He found that he had been having more and more of these bad feelings lately, and they all came true. Just as this feeling arose in his heart, he heard Schiller calmly say in an excited tone:

"I really want to guide you, but since you are so confident, free exploration should not be too difficult for you."

"You can go up the stairs on your left, and then each of you can choose a room. Any room may have a key, and you cannot leave here without obtaining a key."

"Now..." Schiller raised his head, raised his voice, and said in a slightly excited tone, "The game begins!"

In an instant, Schiller's figure disappeared. Stark tilted his head and looked at Charles. Professor Charles understood what he meant and shook his head, saying, "No, I cannot forcibly take you out of here."

"If it were just me, I could try to do it, but Steve, and you, you are both normal in terms of mental strength. I'm afraid you cannot accept a too violent way of teleportation."

"It is not difficult to split personalities. Anyone who has a strong control over his own consciousness can do it, including you and me, Tony."

"But the difficult part is how to make these personalities coexist peacefully and perform their respective duties. This is almost impossible."

"Any personality that is born will not feel like a secondary personality. They will all want control of the body, and they will naturally want to kill the main personality."

"So where is Schiller's main personality?" Steve asked.

"I'm afraid we have to go deep into this tower to find out." Charles turned around and said, "I have been here several times, but I must remind you that this is definitely a very dangerous place."

"Among the dissociative identity disorder patients I have seen, one or several of their personalities will be dangerous."

"Among so many personalities, there must be several extreme criminals." Charles said, and turned around to explain to Stark and Steve, "I don't know if you have ever had nightmares. If you are injured in this world, it is equivalent to having a very serious nightmare. It will not kill you, but it will damage your spirit. It may take several days to recover."

"So, if you really encounter an uncontrollable danger, concentrate your attention and silently recite my name. I can forcibly bring you back here."

"Although this will also consume some of your spirit, at least it will not make you lie in bed for several days."

"Thank you, Professor." Stark looked at the situation on the corridor and said, "Just now, Schiller said for us to choose a room each. Does that mean only one person can enter a room?"

"I think it's better to do as he says for safety." Steve touched his chin and said, "It seems that we have to act separately."

"Which floor are you going to?" Stark asked him. Steve shrugged and said, "You go first, I can go anywhere."

Stark snorted and said, "You better not underestimate it. Your mental strength is only that of an ordinary person, and you don't have strong control over the world of consciousness. You should choose a simpler room, otherwise..."

Steve turned his head left and right, and his gaze fell on the closest door to him. He said, "Then this one."

He walked up and looked at the door. There was nonameplate or any indication of what might be inside. He hesitated for a moment before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open.

Inside, he found himself in a small room with no windows and only one door. The walls were bare and the floor was made of cold concrete. There was a single bed in the corner, and a small table with a chair next to it. On the table, there was a notebook and a pen.

Steve walked over to the table and picked up the notebook. Flipping through it, he saw that it was filled with handwriting, but he couldn't make out what it said. He put the notebook back down and sat on the bed, trying to calm his nerves and prepare himself for whatever might come next.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening to his friends in the other rooms. He hoped that they were safe and that they would all make it out of this place alive.

But for now, all he could do was wait and hope that he would be able to control his own mind and not fall prey to any of the dangers that lurked within this tower of dissociative identities.

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