I really don't want to hang up

Chapter 405 White Coat

"The era of Paradise Lost is over."

The whisperer raised his head and drank the contents of the cup, and said with endless emotion,
"The era belonging to the Senate has just begun."

Number one pushed the water glass out,

"Full!"

Sunday rolled his eyes and said disdainfully,
"Drink some honey water, look at you."

Fill a glass of honey water and pass it to number one, leaning on the counter on Sunday, poking his head and asking,

"No. [-], you said Master, did they really leave? Sitting in the light speed spaceship, whoosh, escaped from this world all at once?"

"if not?"

No. [-] took a sip of the honey water, which was seven points sweet, just right.

"The master is gone, he is gone, I can sleep soundly."

Sunday frowned and asked,

"I said you are not curious, what will the master and the others encounter in the future?"

"cut."

Number one sneered,

"What's so curious about the counterfeit's experience?"

The word "counterfeit" made Sunday's expression gradually serious.

Master is also a counterfeit?
Sunday's seriousness lasted less than three seconds.

No. [-]'s next sentence made him almost pick up the ice bucket and throw it at the opponent.

Number One said triumphantly,
"After all, I am the real Luden, and you are all fakes!"

Sunday:
As expected of you.

He took out a piece of ice from the ice bucket, stuffed it into his mouth, and looked up at the starry sky on Sunday. One of the twinkling stars was the spaceship the master was on.

How should their story continue?

The dazzling light deprives everything in the field of vision, and then makes people fall into endless darkness.

black.

very dark.

The light deprives not only vision, but also hearing and touch
It seems that everything in the world has nothing to do with him at this moment, and his consciousness dives into the deep sea, quiet, dead, and empty.

I don't know how long it took, but there was sound and light again in this empty world.

"Can you hear me?"

"Bring here the flashlight."

"The pupils are responding, sir, can you hear me?"

Shaking his head, he tried to raise his hand to block the light in front of his eyes, but found that he couldn't.

His whole body was weak, and his limbs seemed to be bound by something, unable to move.

He could only squint his eyes, adapting to the world in front of him little by little.

"Hi sir, can you hear me?"

A man in a white coat put down the flashlight in his hand and tried to communicate with him.

His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something.

"Don't worry, take your time."

Under the guidance of the other party, he opened his mouth with difficulty and uttered the first word.

"thirsty"

Unspeakable joy appeared on the face of the man in the white coat, and there was even cheers from the crowd behind him!
As if he uttered a word, it was an unparalleled victory!
"So thirsty."

The white coat beckoned, and someone immediately brought a water glass.

While feeding him water, the white coat explained,

"The electrolyte concentration in your body is a normal level, feeling thirsty is just a psychological effect, take your time, don't rush."

After drinking some water, he felt much better. Sure enough, as the white coat said, he was not really thirsty.

After recovering a lot, he opened his eyes wide, tried to shake his neck, and looked around, but found that his neck was extremely stiff.

"Don't worry, your body is recovering, and within half an hour, you will return to normal."

The white coat comforted him a few words, took out the paper and pen, wrote and drew in the notebook,

"While recovering, would you be interested in chatting?"

He tilted his head back twice, and nodded in agreement.

Obviously, the white coat also knew the meaning of this action, so he didn't ask any further questions.

"According to the communication just now, there is no problem with the ability to receive information and express information, so I want to carry out the next inspection to see how much information I have now"

The white coat asked the first question,
"who are you?"

He didn't choose to answer, but looked at the other party coldly, and asked,

"Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking?"

"you're right."

The white coat nodded,
"As you can see, I am a doctor, a special doctor, I am sorry that I cannot tell you my name at this time, it will not help your condition, in fact, I have introduced myself to you more than once."

doctor?

he asked,

"What's wrong with me?"

"good question."

The white coat once again affirmed his question and answered calmly,

"Split personality, paranoia, virtual cognitive disorder is all the diseases you have been diagnosed with. Of course, they can be collectively referred to as psychosis and neurosis."

Psychosis and neurosis can be simply distinguished. The former is related to mental activities, while the latter is a physical lesion. Although there are differences between the two, they sometimes appear at the same time.

He said cautiously,
"As a doctor, do you think it's appropriate to tell mental patients the truth so bluntly?"

This is not normal treatment.

unless
Brightness appeared in his eyes, and he expressed the conjecture in his heart,

"Unless my illness is cured!"

The white coat was relieved,
"That's right, sir, the moment you can start communicating normally, it means that your illness is cured."

Next, the white coat explained some treatment methods. With the current technology, there are rich coping methods for neurological lesions.

".We focus on treatment as much as possible. Unless the disease is completely irreversible, we will choose cloned nerve replacement."

Listening to the introduction in the white coat, he asked,
"What is the replacement ratio during my treatment?"

The white coat proudly announced a number,
"0.2077%"

2077?

This number made his head ache a little, as if it touched some memory, but he couldn't remember it.

Enduring the severe pain, he asked in as calm a tone as possible,

"From your tone, it costs a lot of money to do this, right?"

The cost of repairing something and replacing it is definitely different.

Just repairing but not replacing, there are often two extremes, either extreme poverty or extreme wealth.

Since I am in the hospital, it must be the latter.

A smile appeared on the face of the white coat,
"You are rich."

He was puzzled, "Where did the money come from?"

"It's up to you to ask yourself."

The white coat brought the problem back to the original starting point,

"who are you?"

He bumped his upper and lower lips a few times, and finally said the answer in his heart,
"I am Arthur"

"Yes, Arthur, you are a miracle, a living miracle."

The white coat continued following his words,

"The script you created is the best-selling script in the company. Your one-year draft fee can buy this hospital, and the cost of treatment is just a drop in the bucket for you."

script?

company?

Arthur felt that his head was starting to hurt again, and his scalp was itchy, as if something was growing crazily.

Arthur frowned, and a lot of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

The white coat noticed his abnormality and said,

"Although the treatment is very successful, there will still be some sequelae. If you don't mind, we can alleviate it through dialogue."

Arthur answered with difficulty,

"How to ease"

The white coat said decisively,
"If you have any questions, you can ask me, and I will definitely give a reasonable answer."

There was a decisiveness in his words, obviously very confident.

Arthur let out a low growl, trying to vent out his inner distress and restlessness.

After yelling, he asked, "Why do I have these memories"

The white coat tried to guide Arthur, making his questions more precise,
"What do these memories refer to?"

Arthur blushed, "Luden's memory."

In memory, he is a master, a prophet, a tailor, and a forgetter.
The white coat was not surprised by this answer, and asked again, "Whose memory do you have the most?"

"Grandmaster.."

Arthur raised his head and roared again, roaring,
"Are you asking me or am I asking you!"

Since just now, this white coat has been doing more harm than good. The more the white coat asks, the worse Arthur's headache will be.

"I'll answer you now."

The white coat said quickly,
"You are Arthur Edward, the first screenwriter of Brave New World Company, and the creator of Luden's script. In the process of trying to develop the follow-up script, you developed a cognitive impairment. The symptoms were mild. Medicine will fix it, and you refuse all medical help and let the disease develop under the excuse that 'this is part of creation'.

Until your condition becomes more serious and you cannot distinguish the script from the reality, let alone your own life from the script, we will take over your treatment when medical intervention is necessary. Your medical regimen is strictly enforced. "

Arthur tried to find loopholes in the other party's words, but to no avail.

However, listening to the other party's words, Arthur's headache did ease a lot.

Arthur stared at the white coat like a hunter staring at his prey, and asked, "You mean, everything about Luden is fake?"

"There are falsehoods and there are truths."

The white coat explained,

"There really was a person called Luden in history, but only Qiyun has his official records. There is no Luden in Shenbang and Fog. They are just legendary characters you choose. Combine them into one and shape them into new characters. .

In fact, this information we tried to convey to you, when you are in the game, you should have heard it. "

game?

Arthur frowned, and before he could ask any questions, the white coat took the initiative to explain,

"Brave New World is a virtual game that can be simulated with 100% authenticity. You are the gold medal screenwriter of this game."

Arthur asked again, "What about the master?"

If he really just confuses reality and fiction, why is most of his perspectives from the master's perspective?
There must be an answer to this question.

"This is related to your creative method. As I said before, you create with history and reality. Everything is the raw material for your creation."

The white coat pointed to the chair,

"You spend most of your time in a wheelchair because of your limited mobility. You don't like to look people in the eye, and you hold a mirror in your hand and use the mirror to look at people behind you, so you fantasize about your head being turned upside down. These two One is your nurse, of course, you call them angels, fallen angels.

This is the night watchman of the cemetery. In your fantasy, he is the director.

Sabbath, mortuary keeper"

The white coat introduced one person after another, overlapping with the impression in Arthur's mind.

Arthur spoke abruptly, interrupted his white coat, and asked,
"What about number one?"

Who is number one?

The white coat fell silent for a moment, then said,
"He is your patient, born with mental retardation."

That makes sense
The performance of No. [-] is indeed very reasonable.

The light in Arthur's eyes gradually dimmed, and he said to himself,
"So. Everything is fake. Cloning is fake. Luden is fake. By the way! Eternals! Where are the Eternals?!"

Arthur seemed to have found the last straw, and looked at the white coat with hopeful eyes, hoping to hear the other party's explanation.

Everything before can be explained, but the immortals really exist!

This is ironclad evidence!

"As I said before, you like to use reality as inspiration."

A young man walked out behind the white coat, exactly the same as Awu in Arthur's impression.

"Aw Edward, your son, Elizabeth, is your wife. As for El Isa, of course, I have no right to comment on my personal life, but El Isa is your wife's sister.
Ahem, just to emphasize, no offense meant, your wife is having a cold war with you over this matter.

Before your illness, you have been trying to persuade Ms. Elizabeth and you to immigrate to a country where polygamy is allowed, and Ms. Elizabeth prefers to immigrate to a country where it is not illegal to kill a husband."

The white coat smiled and shrugged,

"You hope that the most important people in your life are all immortals. In fact, you have no memory of No.4 and No.5 immortals at all, do you?"

Listening to the other party's words, Arthur nodded slowly, and found the problem in his memory.

He really didn't know who the No.4 and No.5 immortals were.

Arthur asked another question,
"Kawu is a descendant of Aisheng"

"If you are talking about Aisheng in the Qiyun era, according to the results of the DNA comparison, it is indeed the case."

The white coat laughed,
"But you—Arthur Edward, are also a descendant of Aisheng, don't you particularly like to arrange your own ancestors, because Aisheng's descendants will not sue you for the right of reputation, and other descendants of saints may not."

Logic, once again succeeds in being self-consistent.

The light in Arthur's eyes slowly dimmed and extinguished little by little, as if he had accepted this fact.

They asked and answered several times afterwards, and Arthur gradually felt sleepy and fell into a deep sleep.

This time, I slept very soundly.

The days that followed were monotonous and boring.

Constant inspections, constant questions and answers, and various procedures were orderly, but Arthur never saw the white coat doctor again.

This day was the day Arthur was discharged from the hospital.

He sat in a wheelchair, and Awu pushed the wheelchair and accompanied him out of the hospital.

Neither Elizabeth nor Al showed up. Obviously, the relationship between the three is still rigid.

According to the doctor's diagnosis, Arthur has regained the ability to walk and does not need to use a wheelchair at all, but he still insists on doing so.

The wheelchair stopped in the hospital lobby, Awu leaned over and said,

"Dad, I'm going to go through the discharge procedures, just wait a moment."

Arthur nodded, "Okay."

He was sitting in a wheelchair, and the armrests of the wheelchair were equipped with mirrors on both sides, like rearview mirrors.

Ordinary wheelchairs, of course, would not be transformed in this way.

Arthur insisted on doing so, and as he was still recovering, the doctor advised him to obey him in view of his condition.

Awu went to go through the formalities, while Arthur looked at the two mirrors and looked at the people passing by.

Soon, he saw a familiar figure in a mirror.

It was the doctor in the white coat, the first doctor Arthur saw when he woke up!
"doctor!"

Arthur, who was sitting in a wheelchair, yelled, but the other party didn't seem to hear him, and continued to walk deep into the corridor.

"doctor!"

Arthur called again, but there was still no answer.

He wanted to push the wheelchair, but found that it was inexplicably locked.

Awu went to go through the discharge procedures again, and Arthur can only rely on himself now.

In desperation, Arthur supported the handrail with both hands, stood up tremblingly, then turned around, supported the wall with his hands, and moved forward a little bit.

He wanted to catch up with the doctor in the white coat, and he still had one question he didn't ask him.

Facing Arthur's call, the other party turned a deaf ear and walked straight into the corridor.

Arthur walked faster and faster, faster and faster, until finally he didn't even need to hold on to the wall, he was almost running!
"Doctor! Doctor!"

Finally, before the doctor entered the office, Arthur rushed behind the doctor and stopped him.

"that."

Arthur panted and asked the question he wanted to ask,

"You haven't told me what your name is!"

"I?"

The young doctor turned his head to look at Arthur, with a smile on the corner of his mouth, and spit out an ordinary and ordinary name,

"Loudon Simpson Griffin."

(End of this chapter)