Chapter 17: Professor Yang

When Zi Liang fully regained consciousness from the intense dizziness, he found himself strapped to a gurney, being pushed down a dark corridor... He couldn’t even remember how he was lifted onto the gurney...

“Hmm... these handcuffs are quite impressive,” he thought to himself.

In fact, Zi Liang rarely praised anything other than sleeping pills, but he had to admit that the electric shock design of these handcuffs was really well done. They seemed to be able to detect each person's physical condition and control the intensity of the shocks just right—extreme pain, continuous dizziness, severe spasms, loss of motor function, but not to the point of losing control of one’s bladder. The designer of this gadget was definitely talented. For a few seconds, Zi Liang felt an impulse to find this person and bring them to his little clinic for some proper training.

But this thought was quickly interrupted by the jarring sound of rusty hinges.

As his vision cleared, Zi Liang realized he had been pushed into a place that looked like an infirmary.

“Professor Yang... we’ve brought him to you,” a guard’s voice came, and in those few short words, Zi Liang could hear a tremor of fear.

“Oh, great,” another voice responded, sounding quite amiable.

Immediately, the gurney was tilted upright, and Zi Liang saw the full view of the room.

This was an infirmary... at least it was designed to be one, with shelves of medicine, medical record cabinets, and medical equipment tables, but oddly, all these common items were piled in a corner. In the center of the room, however, stood a high-end desktop device, and at that moment, a middle-aged man in a white coat was busily tinkering with it.

This man was undoubtedly the Professor Yang that the guards had mentioned. He looked to be in his fifties, with a typical Asian face, small eyes, and glasses, always wearing a smile that seemed to radiate warmth.

“Well... Professor Yang... if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” the guard said impatiently as soon as the bed was upright, as if he didn’t want to stay here for even a second longer.

“Good... come back tomorrow to pick him up,” Professor Yang said with a smile to the guard.

As soon as he finished speaking, Zi Liang heard the hurried footsteps of the guard leaving and the sound of the iron door slamming shut.

At this point, the infirmary was left with only Zi Liang and Professor Yang.

...

Professor Yang slowly walked over to Zi Liang and removed the mask from his mouth.

“Newcomer?” he asked, squinting his eyes, his tone filled with the concern of an elder for a younger person.

Zi Liang didn’t answer immediately; instead, he surveyed his surroundings with half-closed eyes, finally resting his gaze on Professor Yang’s face...

Professor Yang didn’t seem angry under such scrutiny...

Or rather, it was hard to tell if he was angry. His face was perpetually adorned with that amiable expression, as if he had intentionally had surgery to look that way.

“Hehe...” Professor Yang suddenly chuckled, “Alright, I often see young people like you. You’re quite famous out there, so it might take you a little while to adjust to being here. But don’t worry, I’ll help you adapt to this role change quickly... We have... a full 12 hours.”

As he spoke earnestly, he pushed the device in the center of the infirmary closer and took out a bottle of medicine, evenly applying it to Zi Liang’s temples.

“Do you know the difference between pain from electric shock and other types of pain?” he asked, but then quickly answered himself, “The biggest difference is that ordinary physical pain is accompanied by severe organic damage. If it gets too intense, the brain will activate a ‘self-protection’ program to alleviate the pain, sometimes even causing a person to faint. Electric shocks, however, produce pain that can accumulate and directly affect the nerves. As long as the current doesn’t stop, a person won’t lose consciousness. Even if they can’t think because of the shock, they’ll still continuously experience the pain in their minds...”

“Oh, so the person the warden mentioned who knows a lot about electric torture is you,” Zi Liang said flatly.

Professor Yang nodded with a smile and applied two electric shock pads to the places he had just treated with the medicine.

“Did you design these handcuffs?” Zi Liang seemed to suddenly take an interest.

Professor Yang was momentarily taken aback, then shook his head, “Of course not, I’m not an engineer... Why do you ask?”

Zi Liang’s interest was instantly extinguished, appearing a bit dejected, “Alright, never mind. Do you have a cigarette?”

Professor Yang paused with his hand holding the electric pads, looking at the newcomer with some confusion.

“Could you spare me one?” Zi Liang asked, glancing at the desk in the corner.

Following Zi Liang’s gaze, Professor Yang spotted a pack of cigarettes on the desk... Suddenly, his smile became even brighter, his upturned lips almost lifting his entire face...

“Hehe...” Professor Yang let out a sound that was quite unpleasant to hear, “You know, I really like kids like you who are fearless, because the way you hover on the edge of collapse is far more charming than those little sheep who only know how to cry.”

“No, no, no, you might be misunderstanding.” Zi Liang quickly corrected, “I’m not trying to provoke you. I genuinely want a cigarette.”

What Zi Liang said was indeed the truth. Everyone should have noticed that he had no good habits—smoking, drinking, being lazy, being messy, having irregular hours; basically, everything your mother wouldn’t want you to do was his lifestyle. And for such a disheveled person, wanting to smoke before undergoing torture didn’t seem unreasonable.

However, Professor Yang clearly didn’t see it that way. He maintained that eerie smile, “You want to smoke... Hehe... alright, as long as you can endure five minutes without begging for mercy, I’ll give you one.”

...

...

Five minutes later, Zi Liang blissfully exhaled a puff of smoke.

“Frankly, Professor Yang, your skills seem to be inferior to the designer of these handcuffs,” he casually remarked.

“Heh—you're an interesting person,” Professor Yang said with a smile. “But only five minutes have passed; we still have a whole night ahead of us...”

Zi Liang slumped his face in resignation. It was undeniable that Professor Yang's electric torture skills were quite competent. Whether it was the intensity of the current or the frequency of the changes, he had it down to a science. He knew how to find the limits of a subject's endurance and deliver the most suitable pain, which was why he instilled fear in people here.

But in Zi Liang’s eyes, he still lacked a little something because anyone could be trained to reach Professor Yang’s level after a few years of practice with an electric torture device. So, this guy seemed more like a moderately interested pervert than anything else.

But that was fine...

Because Zi Liang had already noticed that Professor Yang must have had an incredibly dark and humiliating childhood or some tragic romantic experience, which led to a weak inner self hidden beneath his sickly exterior.

And this point seemed to be just right for exploitation.

“So, Professor Yang... how about we make a bet?”

...

Chapter 18: The Nonexistent Death Row Inmate

Happy times always pass quickly, and in the blink of an eye, that night was over.

...

...

As a newcomer, being sent to the "infirmary" on the first day at Arkham and having Professor Yang personally welcome him was perhaps the most high-end welcome ceremony in recent years. So, the next morning, everyone in the prison was eagerly anticipating what this newcomer would be like after enduring a night of hellish torment.

In fact, it wasn’t just the newcomer; anyone who had been to the infirmary would become the focus of attention among these insane criminals. Since they had nothing to do every day, they often saw their fellow inmates being tortured to the brink of death, which was quite an entertaining pastime for them.

However, when the prison gates opened...

The expected cheers did not erupt, nor were there any sarcastic remarks. In fact, many prepared insults were swallowed back, unable to be spoken.

Because everyone was dumbfounded.

They saw Zi Liang walking in as if nothing had happened, escorted by two guards.

He staggered into his cell, and after the guards unlocked his handcuffs... they handed him a pack of cigarettes.

Yes, a pack of cigarettes. More accurately, it was a pack with four cigarettes, because after that, the guards pulled out four more cigarettes and placed them on Zi Liang’s bed.

Zi Liang was on the second floor, so many people on both the upper and lower levels could see this scene. Most of them stood there with their mouths agape, looking bewildered. A few started pinching themselves as if in a trance, pinching until their faces turned red, still unable to believe it. Even a few were so stunned they slid down to the ground along the iron bars, feeling their legs had turned to jelly.

...

Zi Liang’s hands were trembling.

But this was not from fear; it was due to muscle spasms caused by the prolonged electric shocks. He shakily picked up one of the cigarettes from the bed, placed it in his mouth, and casually gave a look to the guard behind him...

Next, to everyone’s horror, that guard actually pulled out a lighter... and lit it for him.

“Holy crap, what’s going on?” Everyone watching could no longer remain calm. For a few seconds, they instinctively felt they had been deceived all these years—Arkham Asylum was actually a free, friendly, and humane rehabilitation center.

The prisoners’ reaction wasn’t surprising. Over the years, they had seen countless violent and deranged individuals, including themselves. But no matter how arrogant someone thought they were, after going through Professor Yang’s hands, they would be reduced to a state of submission.

So, how could they have seen someone walk out of a night of torture so composed? Was Professor Yang sick yesterday and didn’t come to work?

Of course not; everyone knew that wasn’t possible. The aftereffects of muscle spasms were clearly a response to having undergone torture, the most brutal kind! So... what was up with this guy? Why did he seem like nothing had happened, and why did he have that expression on his face, as if he were enjoying himself? Most importantly, where did his cigarettes come from?

No one knew what had happened that night. Even the guards were clueless. When they went to fetch this inmate, they were surprised to find he didn’t seem to have changed much, while Professor Yang’s expression was quite off... And those cigarettes, believe it or not, were all given to him by Professor Yang.

These two guards thought this guy was incredibly bizarre, so they quickly closed the cell door and hurriedly left.

As soon as the guards left, whispers began to fill the prison. Those who couldn’t see the scene began desperately asking others what had happened, while those who had seen it stuttered, struggling to explain the situation. The noise grew louder and more chaotic, but no one dared to approach the newcomer to ask him what had really happened.

At that moment...

“Shut up.”

A not-too-loud, lazy voice rang out.

In an instant, the ruckus that had just ignited fell silent, even those who hadn’t heard the earlier commotion instinctively closed their mouths.

And that voice, of course, came from Zi Liang. He leaned back against the bed, his mood seemingly turning quite sour all of a sudden.

After a night had passed, he had essentially breached Professor Yang’s psychological defenses. The specific strategy involved continuously tempting him to inflict more severe torture on himself, then casually delivering some lightly humiliating comments afterward, while also placing bets... This seemingly simple method was incredibly effective on those with dark inner selves. For people like Professor Yang, the only thing he could truly showcase was his ability to torture others. He could only find a sense of existence in the screams and pleas of prisoners. If at that moment, you completely ignored his methods of torture, it would be like after a passionate encounter, the woman or man giving him a scornful laugh.

That was something he could never accept!

So, with this simple method, the stakes could keep rising—from one cigarette to two, then an entire pack, and finally... even the name of "Inmate No. 21."

In fact, this strategy proved effective. To maintain his dwindling dignity, Professor Yang truly did check who Inmate No. 21 was for Zi Liang.

However, the answer was unexpectedly... there was no such inmate.

...

It turned out that about seven or eight years ago, Arkham Asylum underwent an expansion. After that, all incoming inmates were labeled with letters and numbers, like license plates, and there was no pattern to the numbers; they were completely random. For instance, Zi Liang's inmate number was [35A51].

The old-style designation of "Inmate No. 21" had long been eliminated.

This news left Zi Liang quite frustrated.

At the same time, he naturally noticed that all the changes in this city pointed to a specific time frame about seven or eight years ago.

“What happened during that time...?” 

Zi Liang crossed his legs, contemplating while smoking.

“Ah, if only the 'Compass' were here. I haven’t had to think for myself in a while; I’m starting to feel a bit out of practice.”

He muttered, the swirling smoke making his outline appear blurred.