Gun of Ashes

Chapter 501: Chapter 98 Misleading_2

Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, accompanied by rolling thunder, and an almost indistinct snapping sound echoed amidst it.

The human will is difficult to control. The so-called manipulation of the mind is merely an illusion, yet the will can be guided. Through incessant suggestion and clever design, all potential paths are blocked, herding the will toward the desired direction.

To a large extent, psychologists also engage in this, guiding your mind toward the aspect they desire or perhaps plunging it into the abyss.

Thus, hallucinations begin to dissipate, overlapping with reality, like a train switching tracks, leaving the path of illusion and re-entering reality.

The senses, once bound, regain their freedom. Subsequently, the screaming sounds, once ignored due to interference, gradually become discernible, resembling a woman’s wailing, tearing at everyone’s eardrums.

Joey’s face turned ashen, devoid of all color.

As Moriarty lifted the Authority, the screams that had been suppressed were heard once again by everyone, and the hallucination of ghostly green vanished, transforming into a blood-like crimson.

Moriarty retained his serene smile, but now it seemed so terrifying.

He pushed the Geiger Counter toward Joey, pressing it against his chest, and at this moment, the Authority that engulfed everyone completely shattered, the screams now as loud as buzzing.

Moriarty enjoyed his Authority. More than trapping enemies in nightmares, he preferred driving them towards madness.

Such simplistic manipulation, yet under his meticulous design, became a trap to destroy Joey: flawless.

”No... Impossible.” Joey couldn’t believe it.

The awakening of Secret Blood triggered the alarm, but under the hallucination, everything was pinned on Joey.

”Don’t move! Joey!”

Night Owl raised a gun at Joey. Although they were colleagues, Night Owl knew exactly what he must do; at this moment, extraneous emotions would only harm Joey.

Red Falcon’s expression turned serious as well. He trusted Joey, but at this moment, all indications pointed to Joey.

”Calm down, Joey, you’re being controlled by your emotions right now.”

Moriarty wore a pitiful expression, then stepped closer, placing one hand on Joey’s shoulder and gently stroking his face with the other, forcing Joey to look at him.

”Look into my eyes.”

He said, glasses reflecting an arc of light, like a burning white flame, and all sound vanished in an instant.

”You’re still haunted by those memories, trapped in those nightmares. You need healing, you need rest...”

The voice was soft. Moriarty was an outstanding performer; to outsiders, he seemed like an experienced physician trying to calm a frantic Joey.

In truth, Moriarty knew nothing about psychological therapy. He merely enjoyed watching others plunge into madness. As for these supposed treatments, they were just his performance. Pretending to be a doctor was far simpler than becoming one; professional matters were left to that extraordinary Authority.

He spoke meaningless words, dragging Joey into a hallucinatory reverie.

Authority: Raphael.

This was an invisible force, as bizarre as the Shangdafeng. Such unseen forces often instill greater fear in people.

The smoke of Wind Tobacco had long been inhaled by everyone. The hallucinogenic components would aid the release of Moriarty’s Authority, much like the Valley of Horror many years ago. From the moment they stepped in here, controlling threads had already ensnared all their senses.

Joey felt an immense chill. After battling Demons for so long, his keen Intuition warned him of Moriarty’s strangeness. He tried to avoid looking into those eyes, but it was too late.

His exhausted spirit was kneaded, torn apart, and reassembled at will.

Suddenly, only he and Moriarty remained in the room. The black night turned blood-red, echoing with the cries of children one after another. Joey knew something was coming for him. Then, the Moriarty before him disappeared, replaced by a child standing in front of Joey.

Scorching molten iron draped over his head, the wound blazed bright red, the corner of his mouth pulled to his ear, and the smile seemed like a maw seeking to devour.

”Joey!”

Red Falcon called out worriedly. Following Moriarty’s words, Joey began trembling suddenly, the Geiger Counter in front of him still buzzing piercingly. He looked at Moriarty with bloodshot eyes.

”Damn it!”

He cursed, struggling within the hallucination, raising his gun to try and shoot. At this moment, Bluebird stepped forward, stopping Joey’s action, wedging a finger into the trigger to prevent him from pulling it.

Night Owl struck Joey’s neck with a heavy blow, and after a flash, a syringe was inserted, administering the liquid swiftly into him.

This was originally intended to control Moriarty, but now it was used on Joey. If there was any trust in Joey before, his sudden madness now made everyone doubt his mental state.

After all, Moriarty didn’t lie about that; since then, Joey had only undergone psychological evaluation with no further treatment.

Moriarty sat back down on the sofa. As Secret Blood calmed down, Joey fell into a deep sleep, and the incessant buzzing of the Geiger Counter ceased.

This was a perfect framing. By identifying psychological weaknesses and applying pressure, one could easily lead a person to self-doubt and madness.

A slightly heavy breath sounded. Red Falcon looked at the fallen Joey, seemingly not anticipating such an outcome.

He had seen teammates transformed into enemies by Demon corruption, but this was the first time, outside of action, a seemingly calm teammate fell into madness.

Red Falcon felt a strange sensation, as if there was no truly safe place in the world. Whether facing erosion or mundane life, everyone would, at some damn moment, step into madness, like a curse.

”It was all part of your design, wasn’t it?”

Night Owl looked at Moriarty. From the beginning, this guy’s expression hadn’t changed, always that kindly smile, making others unwittingly lower their guard.

If Night Owl saw him wearing this expression in that damned hospital room, perhaps he would have felt reassured, but in this scenario, he could only feel a vague chill.

”Like a script written in advance, Joey’s every reaction was within your expectations.” Night Owl continued.

”I’m a doctor. Of course a doctor understands his patients, and scripts are common in Black Mountain Hospital as well. Long ago, this was a treatment method: through everyone’s performance, patients would recall events and thus change the sorrowful ’past’ in the ’present’.”

Moriarty looked at the unconscious Joey and continued.

”I simply understand my patient too well.”

Night Owl gave him a deep look, then turned back to the restrained Joey, whose weak murmurings were unintelligible.

”You haven’t rid yourself of suspicion, doctor.”

”Inspections, I understand. But if needed, please notify me in advance; I still have a Mutual Aid Association to manage.”

Moriarty maintained that harmonious demeanor; his expression never changed, as if wearing a mask no one could see through.

The smile grew a bit stronger, as if everything that had just happened was merely an amusing game to him.

Indeed it was.

Human beings are truly fragile creatures, struggling to distinguish truth from illusion. With enough cunning power and timing, they can be easily misled, utterly oblivious.

Moriarty enjoyed this, watching them sink, feeling a sense of freely orchestrating others’ destinies, bringing some slight thrill to his numbed emotions.