The Creatures That We Are-Chapter 1153: Prisons

“To death! To death! To death!”

Rooftop of the inpatient building, Third Hospital, Anliang District.

Nine Frost watched his targets with a pair of tactical binoculars. The parrot on his shoulder finally cried out in boredom. The patients in white gowns made it think of a funeral.

“To death! To—”

“Shut up,” Nine Frost cut it off coldly.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

The gray parrot shuddered and fell silent, its round eyes reflecting the two patients Nine Frost was watching.

Outside the inpatient building, two patients were playing Gomoku on a go board, sitting on a stone bench by the fountain. The one on the left was young, around twenty-five. He looked bookish with his black frame glasses. Everyone called him Young Sun.

Sitting on the right was a stocky middle-aged man with a balding head, a round face, and a fleshy nose, an appearance that was considered auspicious. He was nicknamed Old Tang.

“Old Tang.” Young Sun was the first to make a move. He placed a white piece on the center of the board. “Have you heard of the Prison Planet Theory?”

“I have.” Old Tang put down a black piece right beside the white piece. “It’s said that the planet is a massive prison, and all humans are prisoners placed in it rather than the original inhabitants of Earth. It’s based on the reasoning that human physiology isn’t conducive to surviving on this planet, and humanity should’ve gone extinct according to survival of the fittest.”

“Yes! That’s the theory.” Young Sun followed up with a white piece on the black piece’s diagonal. “What do you think about it?”

“It’s not much.” Old Tang placed a black piece on a parallel line. “I’d say the Prison Flesh Theory is more interesting?”

“Flesh?” Young Sun paused. “That sounds a little perverted.”

“Pull your mind out of the gutter!” Old Tang explained. “It means that our bodies are the prisons, and our consciouness the inmates.”

Young Sun’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Oh, interesting.”

“Simply put, all of our consciousnesses are permanent and from the same source, and our bodies are isolated prisons trapping our consciousnesses temporarily. Think of it as our souls if you have trouble understanding it.”

“Got it.” Young Sun added a third white piece to a line. “Then what would our purpose be?”

“What do you think?” Old Tang intercepted his line.

“I don’t know.” Young Sun shook his head. “It doesn’t seem to have much of a purpose.”

“Of course you don’t know.” Old Tang raised an eyebrow. “I don’t, either. We will never know the answer while we live.”

“Why?” Young Sun placed a white piece on the other side.

“Because while we live, we’re imprisoned. The prisoners aren’t the real selves, and they cannot know the thoughts of the selves.” Old Tang cut off the other side, too.

“Then what is a real self?” Young Sun made a different attempt.

“Consciousness.” Old Tang followed. “The everlasting consciousness is the real you, the real self.”

“Wait, I’m getting confused.” Young Sun struggled to decide where he should put his piece. “First, my consciousness lasts forever.”

“Yes.”

Young Sun patted his own chest. “Then my consciousness enters this body temporarily.”

“Yes.”

“I’m no longer me then.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because once trapped, a consciousness is no longer pure consciousness. You are no longer just you, and I’m no longer just me. Only when our bodies die, our consciousnesses escaping the prisons and returning to the everlasting state of immortality, will we be our real selves again. That’s when we’ll understand why we enter these limited bodies and willingly become trapped.”

“So I’ll never know the answer as long as I live?” Young Sun asked.

“Yes.”

“And I’ll have an answer when I give up on life?”

“Yes.”

Young Sun thought for a long hard moment. “But one of my drives in life is to solve this and many other problems. If I no longer want to live, it’ll mean I’m no longer interested in these questions.”

“Yes.”

“But as long as I live, I’ll never solve the problem.”

“Yes.”

“Fine, perfect! Nicely done!” Young Sun scoffed in irritation. “You’re doing it again, Old Tang! Creating a perfect circular thinking!”

“If that’s your conclusion, there’s nothing I can do.” Old Tang considered where to place his next black piece.

Young Sun pressed, “Can’t you use your imagination and try to think from the perspective of your real self? If you were the real you, why would you enter the prison of your body?”

Old Tang grinned. “I have thought about it.”

“Do you have an answer?” Young Sun asked, eyes glinting.

“Yes, but I can’t tell you,” Old Tang responded cryptically.

“Why?”

“Some answers become incorrect the moment they are spoken.” Old Tang placed the black piece and formed two lines of three pieces. Young Sun couldn’t stop both lines from forming. He lost.

“Fine, fine!” Young Sun looked visibly disappointed. “Being all cryptic again...”

“Ahem.” Their conversation was interrupted by a quiet cough. They shot to their feet, looking panicked. A collective sigh of relief escaped them when they saw that it wasn’t a doctor or a nurse, but a young woman in a well-fitted suit dress, framing her tall, slim body and well-proportioned limbs. The graceful woman was holding a microphone for interviews.

“Greetings. I’m One Stone, a reporter at Li City Broadcast. I’m doing an in-depth coverage of the Third Hospital. Would you mind being interviewed?”

Young Sun stiffened in place, struggling to figure out what he should do with his hands. He licked his lips nervously and turned to Old Tang for help.

Old Tang was nervous as well. He turned to leave, but two other professionally dressed women blocked his way. The shorter one took pictures with a DSLR camera, and the taller one began to record with a camera on her shoulder.

Old Tang lost the composure he had when playing chess. He lowered his head like he had made a mistake and muttered, “We’re mentally ill... You should seek someone else out...”

One Stone adjusted her rimless glasses. “It’s okay. I’m just going to ask one question. It’s simple.”

“Oh, then...just ask.” Old Tang couldn’t meet One Stone’s eyes.

One Stone gave him a smile. “Please tell me, when did you awaken?”

Young Sun’s face darkened. He immediately bolted, but couldn’t. Two black hands were clutching his feet—the photographer, Hong Xiaoxiao, had sent her shadow discreetly to Young Sun.

And his escape had been delayed by the camera operator, Chen Ying, who made him misjudge the passage of time with Time Disturbance. He thought he had reacted in a second, but three seconds had passed.

“Don’t! Don’t kill me!” Young Sun begged with colors draining from his face.

“Hush.” One Stone went up to him. “We won’t hurt you. We’re awakeners as well. We’ve been looking for unaffiliated awakeners.”

“Those who haven’t joined any organization like you, we meant,” Chen Ying added.

“Real-really?” Young Sun asked.

“If we wanted you dead, you would be dead already,” One Stone said bluntly.

“Right, right...” Young Sun was a little calmer now.

Hong Xiaoxiao quietly retracted Phantom. When she noticed that she had sliced through the fabric, she apologized, “Sorry, I’ve hurt you.”

“It’s fine. Just a surface cut.” Young Sun gave her a stiff smile, still visibly nervous.

“Young Sun? What is an awakener?” Old Tang looked at Young Sun in confusion before turning to Hong Xiaoxiao. “Why does your shadow move?” He rubbed his eyes and muttered, “Dammit, I should have had my meds as prescribed. I’m getting worse.”

“Is your friend here a wanderer?” One Stone asked.

Young Sun struggled to answer.

“Who? Who’s talking to me?” Old Tang looked around.

A cool wind entered the others’ minds.

[Nine Frost: Old Tang isn’t a wanderer. He can receive my transmission.]

[Chen Ying: A regular human then?]

[Young Sun: Whoa! Who’s talking in my head? Wait, why am I talking too?]

[Old Tang: Young Sun! How did you enter my head as well?]

“Don’t be nervous, Young Sun. This is a Talent.” Old Stone hurried to explain. “Tell me first: who is Old Tang?”

Young Sun shot Old Tang a complicated look, his eyes reddening.