RNP Chapter 24 Awakening from a Dying Illness: The Evil God Was Myself!
Chapter 24 Awakening from a Dying Illness: The Evil God Was Myself!
In the days that followed, instead of the joyful anticipation of university life, Hu Biao was plunged into unprecedented anxiety and self-doubt.
The whispers, like maggots clinging to bones, never disappeared.
Whether it was day or night, no matter where he was, that subtle, fragmented sound with strange syllables always lingered deep in his left ear.
It's not loud, it doesn't drown out the sounds of the real world, but it exists stubbornly, like background noise that can never be turned off, or like some kind of whisper that transcends physical distance, as if it's really being watched by something.
This made him a bit neurotic.
For example, he might suddenly stop walking and listen intently; his chopsticks might pause in mid-air while eating, and his eyes might glaze over; even during the most crucial moment of exerting force in martial arts practice, a sudden, incomprehensible fragment of a syllable would enter his mind, causing his breathing to become disordered, his movements to become distorted, and he almost injured himself several times.
"Is he under too much pressure? Or did he have that nightmare again?" Niu Yafei was the first to notice that something was wrong with her son.
She couldn't help but worry when she saw the increasingly obvious dark circles under Hu Biao's eyes and his frequent absent-mindedness.
Ever since her son had that nightmare, his condition has been fluctuating. She doesn't know what kind of nightmare could have such a big impact on her son.
"It's nothing, Mom, I just haven't been sleeping well lately," Hu Biao forced a smile.
Such things, of course, cannot be discussed openly.
What do you mean? That I might have been targeted by an evil god for moving stars, and that I'm hearing inexplicable whispers in my ear?
That's utter nonsense!
He even began to doubt his mental state.
Isn't that how it's written in online novels? When you come into contact with the unknown, it starts with auditory hallucinations, then visual hallucinations, and finally your sanity collapses, leading to madness... Could he already be halfway there?
To verify this, he conducted numerous tests.
He tried to completely block out higher-dimensional abilities, not opening any vision or interfering in any way for two whole days, while the whispering continued...
He removed the Spirit Ring and locked it deep inside the drawer. The whispering continued...
He ran to a remote, uninhabited mountain and lay down under the starry sky, lost in thought. The whispers continued…
In fact, the quiet environment made it even clearer.
"It has nothing to do with my abilities or the ring... Is it directly targeting me?" This conclusion made him even more desperate.
He began to consult a large amount of information, from medical papers to psychological case studies, from religious mysticism to fringe science forums, and finally, even sought help from Qidian.com.
He read everything about "auditory hallucinations," "synesthesia," "spiritual awakening," and "information reception," but the more he read, the more confused and frightened he became.
In those cases, the proportion of those who ultimately went to self-destruction or went completely insane was alarmingly high.
He even secretly posted anonymously online asking: "If I keep hearing incomprehensible foreign language whispers in my ear, is it a sign of schizophrenia?"
The comments below were all urging him to see a doctor immediately, and several charlatans even sent him private messages trying to sell him exorcism packages.
This is...
He visibly grew thinner, but strangely enough, he felt his energy was increasing and he was getting better and better.
His haggard appearance and vigorous spirit, seemingly contradictory, were strangely integrated within him.
At least in his own opinion, he was in very good spirits.
Most importantly, whether online or in novels, other people's memory would start to decline, or even decline drastically, when they encounter this situation, but he is different. His memory gets better and better, which is extremely bizarre!
Hu Shenyan and Niu Yafei were very worried and took him to see a doctor twice more, and even consulted a famous psychologist.
The result was still "no obvious organic lesions" and "may be facing an important life stage transition, with adaptive anxiety." A bunch of calming and brain-boosting medications and sleep aids were prescribed, but the effect was minimal.
Time slipped by in agonizing anticipation until the end of August, and the day for university registration was drawing near.
Niu Yafei was getting anxious. She was definitely worried about Hu Biao going to university in his current state, and she had already started looking for a house near Jiangcheng University to accompany him. Although Hu Biao strongly opposed it, his objections were ineffective.
On the eve of his arrival, as Hu Biao watched Niu Yafei check her luggage one last time, he pursed his lips, wanting to put up a final resistance, but all his thoughts were dispelled by the whispers in his ear.
Tonight, there were more fragments of syllables in his ears than usual, weaving together into a more chaotic buzzing sound that made his temples throb.
He had no choice but to go to bed early, swallow a sleeping pill prescribed by the doctor, and force himself to close his eyes.
He didn't know how much time had passed before his consciousness began to blur and sink.
The whispers in my ear didn't disappear, but seemed to be swept away by the currents of a dream, undergoing a strange transformation...
He saw it!
Images appeared in my dream like fragments, then vanished...
The image was blurry and jagged, like an old television with a poor signal, a jumble of colorful patches and distorted light and shadow...
But he did see it; he saw the source of the whispers!
The first scene: On the edge of a sweltering, humid rainforest, under a simple bamboo shed, a dim kerosene lamp flickers. Several dark-skinned, sallow-faced men and women, dressed in tattered sarongs, kneel on the ground. In front of them are rough earthenware bowls containing a little white rice and some unrecognizable wild vegetables. They clasp their hands together, close their eyes, and their chapped lips move rapidly.
Hu Biao "heard" the voices flowing in their hearts, no longer fragmented syllables, but directly transformed into meanings he could understand:
"...Thank you, Judge...for cleaning up the demons...for saving my sister...May the Judge bless...may those demons be condemned to eternal damnation..."
The screen flickers.
The second scene: a slum on the outskirts of a city, the corrugated iron roofs gleaming coldly in the moonlight. A middle-aged man with a scar on his forehead and missing an ear secretly lights three incense sticks before a simple shrine in a cramped little room. There is no statue on the shrine, only a blurry picture cut from an old newspaper, accompanying a report about a "mysterious disappearance."
The man bowed deeply: "...Judge above...I am gravely sinful...I was once an accomplice to evil...Thank you for giving me a chance to repent...I am willing to spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins...to serve you..."
The images rotate and overlap.
The third fragment, the fourth fragment, the fifth fragment... countless fragments surged forth.
Some mothers who lost their children cried out and prayed to the void in the dead of night; some young people who escaped from a fraud park vowed to worship "Judge" in their cramped rented rooms; some ordinary people who heard about the series of disappearances and who had also been persecuted began to silently worship "Judge," a figure without a concrete image, existing only in word of mouth, at home...
Their faces were blurred, their backgrounds varied, and they spoke a diverse array of languages—Burmese, Thai, Khmer, Malay, and local dialects mixed together. But at this moment, from the strange, higher-dimensional perspective of the dream, those sounds, which were originally like incomprehensible gibberish to Hu Biao, directly penetrated the language barrier, imprinting their meanings directly into his consciousness!
Just like radio waves, if you tune to the right frequency, you can hear the content.
In his dream, Hu Biao's consciousness seemed to float on a chaotic ocean composed of countless points of prayer light.
Each point of light was a faint source of thought, most of them dim and indistinct, but some, especially those with strong emotions and relatively pure beliefs, were slightly brighter. The "sounds" they emitted intertwined, forming the noisy background whispers he heard in reality.
It's not an evil god!
It's not erosion!
Is it...faith? Prayer? Or something directed at him?
A profound sense of absurdity and an indescribable realization washed over him like a bucket of cold water, clearing his chaotic consciousness from his dream!
Then, he suddenly woke up and sat up in bed.
I was startled awake from my deathbed, and realized that the evil god was actually myself!
That scared me to death!!!