From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

After resolving the minor incident, Edmund persisted in helping the nuns in the not-too-hot afternoon sun, and also took notes on more information.

Return the chairs to their places, wipe the portholes, and transport the clean clothes to the laundry room.

These things were unremarkable in themselves, but they gave Edmund a very respectable reason to travel around.

When a patient who is usually troublesome starts to offer help, most people will be more tolerant.

The young nun watched Edmund bustling about in the morning, but in the afternoon she only reminded him not to go near the iron gate.

After working for a while, he was even allowed to carry large baskets into the laundry room.

He was quite satisfied with the results of his work today.

The rules of the nuns' watch, the structure of the ship's passageways, and some friendly impressions—if these things are placed in the right place, they can open a path to freedom.

Labor, the path to redemption lies within it.

Edmund put down the basket containing the dirty sheets and gave the young nun a harmless smile.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

The young nun was taken aback, seemingly not expecting a patient to ask such a question.

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head and said, "No need, sir. You can go up to the deck for some fresh air; it will be good for you, but don't go near the ship's side."

"Of course," Edmund replied meekly.

He felt much better when he turned to leave.

Because he saw the soap and had already figured out its uses.

-----------------

Before dinner, looking at the vast sea at dusk, Edmund began to understand why the nuns were so at ease letting everyone move freely at sea.

On the boundless sea, the boundless wind wanders between the water and the sky, above the myriad phosphorescent lights ignited by pure flames.

Surrounded by endless seawater, this ship was probably the only place where it could stand.

As the setting sun warms the midnight abode, it melts the golden luster and throws it into the sea, evoking an ancient and profound sense of awe.

Clearly, he wasn't the only one who felt this way; there was also the old man standing on the other side of the port side.

Edmund stood on the port side, the sea breeze ruffling his slightly damp hair. In the distance, the silver-haired old man—Farian Madeleine—stood quietly on the other side of the ship.

Several patients were wandering aimlessly on the deck, while the nuns were talking quietly at the cabin door a little further away.

This is an opportunity.

Edmund pretended to stretch his stiff neck and naturally took a few steps toward the old man's side.

They were separated by a section of ventilation duct and a cable reel, which created a blind spot.

"Hey, the breeze is nice this evening, isn't it?"

Edmund greeted them politely, but did not receive an immediate response.

Just when he thought there would be no response, a deep and magnetic voice came from the old man, who was as still as a statue:

"Don't come near me, they'll notice you."

Edmund grunted and pressed, "May I ask your name?"

The old man finally turned his head to the side, his dark brown eyes like two still wells in the twilight.

He simply shook his head slightly, then slowly walked away along the ship's side towards the restaurant.

-----------------

Dinner was as lackluster as ever. After the meal, Edmund stopped a nun, pointed to his sweaty collar under her questioning gaze, and gave her a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Excuse me, Sister, I worked up quite a sweat this afternoon... Could I please have a little more water tonight? Just a little soap will do, please."

The nun glanced at his sweat-soaked gray hospital gown and the pleading look on his face: "Use it sparingly."

She brought him the iron basin filled with the water that had just been poured into the bottom, and handed him a bar of yellow soap.

"Thank you, Sister," Edmund said sincerely, taking the precious basin of water with him as he left.

He quickly tore off several strips of soap with his fingernails, wrapped them in the prepared crumbs of wheat cake, and stuffed them into his hospital gown.

He then repeatedly washed his face, neck, and arms with the remaining soap until the stains blended into the normal wear and tear, before finally thoroughly rinsing his face and neck with clean water.

The returned soap passed the nun's inspection without incident, and Edmund, feeling refreshed, went up to the deck to enjoy the sea breeze.

As darkness gradually fell and the surrounding lights came on, the nuns began urging the patients to return to their cabins in the glow of the lights.

Edmund deliberately lingered, observing his surroundings. He noticed that several light bulbs on the deck passageway near the stern were noticeably dimmer than those in other areas.

He noted down the location shrouded in shadow.

Night fell as expected.

The restraints tightened around his wrists and ankles again. Amidst the commotion of the people in the cabin, Edmund carefully examined the leather restraints on his body by the light from the distant electric lights.

The right-hand strap is about two fingers wide, with padding on the inside. The buckle is a metal clasp, and the tightness is controlled by a horizontal adjustment strap.

He twisted his wrist to feel the strap and found that when his wrist was turned up at a certain angle, the strap seemed to have a margin of about one finger's width.

This margin is not enough to break free, but it allows for limited wrist movement.

Was the gap intentionally left by the nuns to facilitate the injection of sedative oil at night?

In any case, this is a detail that can be used.

He stopped moving, adjusted his breathing, and made himself appear as if he had fallen asleep.

That night, Edmund was awakened from his light sleep by a series of ghostly howls.

The cabin was in chaos—in the distance, patients on their beds were writhing and emitting incoherent screams.

Some people banged their heads against the iron bed railings, while others curled up in a ball with their hands covering their heads, as if resisting some invisible attack.

The air was thick with the smells of sweat, fear, and... the metallic stench of metal.

Edmund's nostrils twitched slightly.

If his brief stint in the cult taught him any profound lessons, "mind your own business" would definitely be at the top of the list—curiosity often leads to bloody scenes.

He forced himself to remain still, only slightly moving his eyes to observe in the dim, flickering light.

Amidst the chaotic noise, a peculiar buzzing sound began to seep in.

Edmund felt a slight dizziness, and a stream of information rushed through his consciousness:

[Currently suffering from the harmonic interference of the "Singing Snail Insect"... Exempted!]

[Currently suffering from the harmonic interference of the "Singing Snail Insect"... Exempted!]

……

A dozen messages popped up in a flash, and Edmund immediately understood the source—it was Alice Weber, the female student whose body was parasitized by "sounding snails".

She was "singing" again, or rather, the parasites inside her body were using her throat to produce sounds with extraordinary influence.

This "singing" undoubtedly exacerbated the already fragile mental state of the surrounding patients, triggering even stronger auditory and visual hallucinations.

The frenzy inside the cabin reached a new climax.

Cries, curses, laughter, and prayers mingled together, almost lifting the ceiling off the building.

Just as things were spiraling out of control, the hatch was suddenly pushed open, and hurried, heavy footsteps rushed in.

Four or five figures quickly rushed in; they were nuns.

They were clearly prepared, heading straight for Alice Webber's bed.

Alice was bound to the bed with restraints, but her body throbbed violently like a fish out of water, emitting inhuman, high-frequency tremors.

One nun pressed down hard on her struggling shoulders, while another short, thin nun deftly opened the briefcase.

"Hold her down! Quick!" the tall, stout nun shouted, stepping forward to help herself.

A moment later, the unsettling tremor in Alice's throat stopped abruptly, and the spasms in her body rapidly diminished until only twitching remained.

As the nuns continued to enter, the commotion gradually subsided after the calming oil took effect.

Although there were still sporadic sobs and murmurs, the most intense outbursts had been suppressed.

The nuns did not leave immediately; they cautiously looked around and checked on the other patients.

The tall, stout nun's gaze swept over Edmund's bed and lingered for a moment.

Edmund immediately adjusted his breathing to make himself look like he had been woken up and then fallen back into a deep sleep.

To be honest, he would rather it be like this, at least he could get a good night's sleep.