Upon hearing the scream, Banai and Chitanda both jumped up in fright, while Duanmu Huai silently sighed, then turned off the hotpot and stretched lazily.

"Alright, let’s go."

The three of them once again headed to the west wing from before, pushed open the door, and walked into the lobby, where the scene was clearly visible.

A patient lay on the floor, eyes wide open, with a large slit cut across the throat. Blood gushed out like a fountain, and a knife lay next to it, covered in blood, obviously the murder weapon.

In simple terms, this was a crime scene.

However, there was no atmosphere of a crime scene here.

The reason for saying this was simple; everyone else was acting as if they didn’t hear or see the dead person. They continued sitting at the tables, either playing chess, reading books, or muttering to themselves, immersed in their own worlds. It was as if everything happening here didn’t elicit any reaction from them.

This was a mental hospital; these people were mental patients.

So it was quite normal.

But this scene still raised the hairs on Banai and Chitanda’s necks.

Earlier, Duanmu Huai asked them what normal meant.

And conversely, there couldn’t be a more abnormal situation than this.

A dead person lay on the ground, seemingly freshly killed, yet no one else showed any panic or curiosity by gathering around to watch. They merely sat in their places, doing their own things, as if nothing had happened.

"Sigh..."

Duanmu Huai sighed again.

"Wait here."

With that, Duanmu Huai walked over to the deceased, squatted down, and began to observe carefully. Banai, on the other hand, was holding onto Chitanda, who was about to collapse to the floor. It was because they were standing further away and couldn’t see clearly that they managed to maintain their composure. But...

Xiao Ai seemed truly calm.

Banai curiously watched Duanmu Huai, who wasn’t afraid to look at the body. Chitanda, however, hid directly behind Banai. Although Banai had never seen a dead body, nor was she sure how she’d react, she at least felt she wouldn’t be as calm as Duanmu Huai.

She watched Duanmu Huai squatting, staring at the victim, then stood up and walked around, looking around the surroundings. His expression was calm, eyes indifferent—Banai suddenly found this scene somewhat eerie. She had seen TV shows where detectives or police officers discovering a victim were always serious and even sometimes sorrowful, expressing regret and pain over a life lost, vowing to find the criminal and clear the victim’s name.

But Duanmu Huai wasn’t like that. He stared at the victim without showing any emotion—no pain, sadness, or seriousness. His demeanor towards the victim was more like these mental patients.

Indifferent, detached, as if what lay before him was just an object.

Banai watched this scene and suddenly felt as if the distance between herself and the opposite side was growing further. In her eyes, it seemed almost as if Duanmu Huai was also wearing the mental patients’ attire, standing there dazed, while she moved further away, like watching a performance through a TV screen...

"Grumble, grumble..."

The sound of her stomach interrupted Banai’s thoughts. She came back to her senses and found Duanmu Huai had returned to her side, curiously looking at her.

"Haven’t you had enough to eat?"

"That was just an appetizer!"

"Do you still have an appetite now?"

"Why not?"

Banai tilted her head in confusion, looking at Duanmu Huai, who patted her on the shoulder.

"Hmm, just as expected from you."

"???"

"Alright, let’s go."

"???"

Although she didn’t understand what Duanmu Huai was saying, Banai still followed him out of the room obediently with Chitanda.

The peculiar feeling from earlier had long been cast out of Banai’s mind.

"Xiao Ai, did you notice anything?"

After leaving the west wing and returning to the deserted reception room, Banai couldn’t wait to ask. Strangely enough, despite the significant event happening, the medical staff were nowhere to be seen. Banai figured they should have heard the scream just as they did.

Where did they go?

"Oh, there is indeed something quite interesting, something fit for a mystery novel."

Duanmu Huai held up two fingers.

"First, we’ve seen the victim before."

"What?"

"It’s the patient who claimed to be the hospital director."

"Him..."

Banai remembered.

"Second, it appears to be self-infliction."

"Appears?"

"Yes, at least that’s what I see. It seemed like he used his right hand to grab the knife and then plunged it into his own throat, then..."

Duanmu Huai demonstrated by holding a finger to his throat and then pulling it across.

At this point, Chitanda’s face turned somewhat ashen.

"Is it possible for someone to do that?"

"A normal person couldn’t do it."

"Then?"

"But with mental patients, you never know."

"Ah..."

At this, Banai was taken aback. Indeed, it’s all absurd, but considering it’s a mental hospital and the person is a mental patient, it somehow seems normal.

After all, mental patients are inherently "abnormal."

"However, there’s also the possibility someone attacked him from behind, who knows?"

Duanmu Huai shrugged.

"With so many people, someone must have seen something, right?"