Seeking Truth with a Sword-Chapter 652 - 591 No. 8

"Impossible, this must be a hallucination!" Li Ang’s eyelids twitched as he scanned the room, trying to find any inconsistencies.

"Still hard to accept? Do you feel like you are still in a dream?" Professor Jun seemed to have guessed what was on Li Ang’s mind and calmly said, "The construction of dreams also follows objective laws. You can pick any book from the shelf and flip through it. If this is still a dream, then the pages should be blurry."

He then signaled the caretakers with his eyes. The caretakers hesitated for a moment but still stepped forward to help Li Ang out of the restraining jacket, the same type that Hannibal wore in *Silence of the Lambs*.

"Please." Professor Jun spread his hands. Li Ang fell silent for a moment, then stood up, went to the bookcase, closed his eyes, and picked a book—it was Jung’s *Personality Integration*.

"There are indeed clearly logical words inside, right?" Professor Jun said. "Besides that, there’s this." He tapped on the tablet, playing a second video.

The scene was still this room. Li Ang, wearing a white surgical outfit and sitting on a chair, took a deep breath and said calmly to the camera, "My name is Li Ang, and the date is August 10. If you are watching this video, that means my memory has been reset again.

"In the past few months, my symptoms of auditory, visual, and hallucinatory perception have intensified, and no medication on the market has worked. According to the medical team, parts of my brain, including the hippocampus, are not damaged; on the contrary, they are highly active. Once I relax, they continuously correct, alter, and even fabricate memories.

"At its worst, my brain is completely in chaos. One second I am watering flowers in the sanatorium, and the next second I find myself in the Colosseum of Ancient Rome. I’d be wearing only underwear, a cloak, and boots, wielding a longsword and a shield. I’d be standing on yellow sand mixed with the teeth, blood, and nails of countless previous gladiators. Amidst the cheers and applause of millions of spectators, a stone gate in the far distance would slowly open, and a lion with a scar on its face would step out, approaching me. Everything was so real.

"One second I was lying on the hospital bed, listening to the medical team discussing the treatment plan. The next second, I became the commander of the Galaxy Starship, commanding countless warships and fighting a desperate battle against an alien fleet two light-minutes away. High-energy beams flew everywhere, and whirlwind torpedoes bombarded relentlessly. This battle determined the survival of two races, two civilizations, and every minute thousands of soldiers were sacrificed for it."

Li Ang’s voice in the video faded, his eyes losing focus, seemingly still immersed in that memory.

"Dreams, or rather, hallucinations, are not always regular," he said, coming back to himself. "The brain cannot create anything beyond cognitive perceptions; the materials for dreams come from reality. Once the materials provided by reality are insufficient, the dreams become chaotic and disorderly. At times, I have dreams that are bizarre, even terrifying: huge, endlessly sprawling decayed warehouses; musty old mansions; eerily empty, silent cities; wells stretching to the depths of the earth; and indescribable... horrifying monsters.

"The frequency of nightmares is increasing. Because the dreams are so realistic, the pain experienced inside, including death, also carries over to the real world. According to the doctors, without intervention, even if I don’t die from an excess of hormones secreted by my brain, I would reach a psychological threshold and completely break down, becoming a vegetable or, even worse, forever trapped in a nightmare of despair, unable to escape. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"So, led by Professor Jun, the team of doctors came up with a plan: to create a strong personality, strong enough to break free from the nightmares and regain consciousness. To achieve this effect, they would design a complex script, like playwrights and novelists, continuously infusing it into the normal me through text, images, and music. What one contemplates by day shapes the dreams by night. Having read the script, I would generate corresponding dreams, crafting a complete world.

"As the protagonist of the Dream Realm, Li Ang would undergo a typical ’Hero’s Journey,’ as outlined in *Hero with a Thousand Faces*. He would start with a normal, mundane life, then be suddenly assaulted by an accident and forced to embark on a journey. Along the way, he would gain friendships and love, face severe obstacles, defeat antagonists, become a hero, and achieve personality sublimation. Hero Li Ang would overcome difficulties unimaginable for a mortal. He would possess an invincible Spiritual Power, sufficient to break free from the nightmare’s torment and return to the real world. Then, with his strong willpower, he would maintain constant focus, thus suppressing the brain’s delusional impulses."

He paused, gave a bitter smile, and said, "In a little while, I have to go to the operating room to be injected with an anesthetic and sleep for over 72 hours to complete the entire Dream Realm. Wish me luck, and I wish you luck too."

The video ended. Professor Jun took a deep breath, intertwined his fingers, and said, "This is the reason you are here. You were summoned here, Li Ang."

"..."

Li Ang was silent for a long time, absorbing this massive amount of information. He instinctively refused to believe, yet the unresponsive Elemental Material and Telekinesis, along with the memory fragments that appeared out of nowhere in his mind, all indicated a frightening truth—what was said in the video was true. He was truly a "created" character. His past life was all fiction...

"Time," Li Ang suddenly said, looking up. "The video says it was August 10, but it’s already October. According to the video, the sleep only needed to last about 72 hours. How do you explain that?"

"..."

Hearing this, Professor Jun silently played a third video. On the screen, it was still Li Ang, wearing a green hospital gown. He looked listless, squatting in the corner of a bedroom, hands over his forehead, repeatedly muttering, "This isn’t real, I have to go back, I have to go back..."

Professor Jun swiped his finger, playing a fourth video. Li Ang was standing on the bedroom bed, with sunken eyes and a manic expression, wielding a book as a weapon and shouting at a caretaker, "I am an apostle! I am Tianqi! All you traitors must die!"

In the fifth video, Li Ang had an indifferent expression, walking barefoot in the sanatorium cafeteria. Surrounding caretakers tried to stop him, but he easily knocked them down, one punch each.

More videos followed—the sixth, the seventh—each depicting similarly troubling outcomes before Professor Jun finally spoke.

"Summoning a hero was not smooth sailing," Professor Jun sighed. "The complexity of the Dream Realm far exceeds our imagination. Scripts often go out of control and mutate, leading to summoned ’Li Angs,’ each different. We have repeated this seven times. We tried different worldviews, scripts, characters, and plot tones, constantly mixing and matching, but all attempts failed. The ’Li Angs’ were either weak and timid, only wishing to return to the Dream Realm; or cruel and bloodthirsty, defying society; or apathetic, not caring about their own life or death.

"Each restart, we would play these videos for you to remind you of your main personality’s identity. However, each sleep also continuously weakened your main personality—just like Theseus’ Ship. You are our eighth, and likely our last hope."