Volume One, Chapter 20: The Subject in the Observation Room

Outside the access control, the noisy sounds of the Origin Laboratory echoed, and the long corridor of several dozen meters seemed to separate two entirely different worlds.

Ran Yi sat dazedly in a chair. Occasionally, a few researchers would open the first security door to deliver materials inside, but not one spoke to him.

The corridor was lined with many doors—storage rooms, control rooms, core meeting rooms—all sealed off by cold metal barriers.

No one responded; it felt as if he had been abandoned there. A flood of questions swirled in Ran Yi’s mind: Why had he not yet seen Professor Hu Chuan or Tang Hui? Why had no one told him when the experiment would begin? With two “Beyond” projects, why was he heading toward the control room? He wanted to ask Song Qi what the current situation was.

A small transparent window was set into the metal door of the control room. Through it, Ran Yi saw Song Qi and her team staring grimly at rows upon rows of dense real-time data fluctuations.

“Hello! Could you please open the door?”

Perhaps the soundproofing was too good; no matter how hard he knocked, it seemed no one inside could hear him.

He worried that an incident had already occurred, that Professor Hu Chuan might have been harmed. He was even more concerned that something had happened to Tang Hui.

More researchers seemed to be coming and going; though he couldn’t see their faces behind masks, their footsteps grew noticeably quicker.

He stood and stopped one person. Looking closely, it was Chen Tong—the head of Origin Laboratory whom Song Qi had introduced earlier.

“What exactly is going on? Is Professor Hu Chuan hiding something from me?”

Chen Tong was momentarily stunned, then gave an awkward smile. “You’re here as a volunteer, right? Well... good luck.”

With that, he hurried through the access control and back into the Origin Laboratory.

Ran Yi received no answers; the mystery only deepened.

Suddenly, he noticed a door not far away was ajar. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he quietly approached. On the door was a sign:

“Observation Room.”

Behind the door lay a narrow, dimly lit corridor. Ran Yi walked a dozen steps and pushed open the door to a room.

The observation room was about twenty square meters. Upon entering, Ran Yi was hit by the sharp smell of alcohol.

Had it just been disinfected? Or was alcohol spilled?

The lights inside were bright and clean. A tidy single bed stood alongside a desk laden with books, a 100-inch LCD television, spacious storage cabinets, and even a wet and dry separated bathroom. At first glance, it looked no different from a comfortable single residence.

If not for the prison-like alloy railing separating the room.

All of this was what Ran Yi could see from outside the railing.

His eyesight was keen; despite the cleanliness, he immediately noticed faint reddish-brown stains on the wall.

The desk and bed bore scratches, and the grout in the bathroom tiles seemed stained with brown marks.

More strikingly, the alloy railing itself was scarred with numerous large and small scratches.

The observation room... why were these eerie signs present?

A chill ran down Ran Yi’s spine.

Outside the railing was a narrow space just wide enough for one person. In a corner stood a metal cabinet, which Ran Yi carefully opened.

With a clatter, the piled-up files cascaded out, startling him.

Looking at the dense mass of documents on the floor, he was about to criticize the lab’s lax organization when the header of one report caught his eye:

“Subject: Jin Jingyang.”

Ran Yi instantly steadied himself. He closed his eyes, recalling what Bai Chen had said—that Jin Jingyang’s identity had been recorded on the access logs.

He had really been here!

Ran Yi quickly picked up the examination report. At first, it resembled a routine physical check, recording Jin Jingyang’s height, weight, and various health indicators. But the further he read, the more unsettling it became.

“Subject 2704 exhibited unstable mental status today, possibly a result of withdrawal experiments. This is the third day of withdrawal. At 3:10 AM, subject 2704 consumed the first meal in three days, followed by vomiting. Subject showed lethargy and did not speak today, spending remaining time staring blankly at the desk. Recommendation: moderate easing of withdrawal.”

Trembling, Ran Yi found another report bearing Jin Jingyang’s name.

“On the fifth day of withdrawal, subject 2704’s condition did not improve, but worsened. No food, no sleep, no speech. Experimenters attempted communication, but mention of school-related topics triggered stress responses. Currently surviving only on nutrient infusions. Withdrawal effects irreversible. Immediate cessation of experiment advised! Immediate hospital transfer and treatment strongly recommended!”

Ran Yi lifted his head, gazing at the furnishings inside the railing. He imagined the gaunt, eerie Jin Jingyang sitting at the desk, eyes vacant like a walking corpse. The sinister atmosphere was suffocating. How could such a polished laboratory harbor such disturbing reports?

Could it be that Jin Jingyang had also been involved in the “Beyond” experiment?

Setting aside the inexplicable situation Ran Yi had witnessed at the internet café, he suspected that Jin Jingyang, like Tang Hui, had suffered severe psychological disruption within the inner world of “Beyond,” resulting in madness and the reported condition.

But where had he gone afterward? Why did the police conclude homicide upon finding the corpse, when no signs of malnutrition appeared on the body?

Layer upon layer of mist obscured the truth, and Ran Yi instinctively wanted to search for more reports. Suddenly, a voice called out from behind.

“Hey, punk, what are you rummaging through?”

The voice was unmistakably familiar. Cold sweat broke out on Ran Yi’s brow. He turned slowly and saw a man emerging from behind the door—Zou Yao.

He was drunkenly raising his head, not clutching a bottle of liquor, but a bottle of medical alcohol.

So that was the source of the pungent smell.

“Who let you in here?”

Ran Yi was about to scold the man for his alcoholism—drinking 75% medical alcohol was beyond reckless—but then a sudden realization dawned on him.

Song Qi and her team had been confined to the monitoring room throughout, with no opportunity to commit any wrongdoing. If Tang Hui was innocent, and had the time, chance, and motive, the only person lacking an alibi was this drunken man before him.

Ran Yi instinctively tried to run, but Zou Yao’s strength was surprisingly great, locking him tightly like an iron shackle.

“Trying to run? Punk, you here to volunteer or what?”

“None of your business,” Ran Yi replied, thinking only of escaping this drunkard.

But Zou Yao seemed to take this as consent. His careless expression suddenly hardened. He grabbed Ran Yi, opened the access door, and without caring about the curious gazes of others, dragged him outside.