Chosen: Beyond Fate

“What?” Ji Jue halted in place for a moment. He even forgot about the drooling patients around him as he stared in disbelief at the doctor.

“Obstetrics and Gynecology,” Mr. Qian repeated himself without the slightest change in expression.

Obstetrics and gynecology, my ass!

He had been thinking this would be some kind of job change, that once he entered the Time Ruin he could finally put his real talents to use. Instead, the moment he arrived, he got assigned as a resident doctor in training. No salary was bad enough, but now he was being sent straight to Obstetrics and Gynecology?

Me? Are you serious? Do I look like someone who can help deliver babies? Especially for a bunch of patients who look like demons and monsters...

Inside this Time Ruin hospital, every outsider had already been given the title of intern doctor. According to the rules, Mr. Qian was now his superior, and Ji Jue had absolutely no way to resist the assignment. Still, he wanted to at least give it a try.

“Ahem. Actually, I’m pretty good at fixing things. Doesn’t the hospital maintenance department have any vacancies? Boilers, refrigerators, TVs, air conditioners, I can repair all of them. If that doesn’t work, I can do masonry, plastering, and renovation work too. Don’t let my age fool you, I’ve got plenty of experience.”

Mr. Qian looked at him coldly, his expression darkening. “Maintenance department? What’s that? Our hospital doesn’t have anything like that. You have a problem with the Teaching Department’s assignment?”

“No, none at all!” Ji Jue shook his head without a moment’s hesitation. His expression couldn’t have been any more earnest. “I absolutely love Obstetrics and Gynecology. Joining the big family of the OBGYN department is exactly why I came here. I’m deeply honored, sir!”

A brief silence followed. The faintest trace of a satisfied smile appeared on the cracked, crisscrossed face of Mr. Qian. “Very good. Loving your work and being dedicated to it is the prerequisite for becoming a good doctor.”

He extended his hand once more. His icy palm patted Ji Jue on the shoulder, leaving behind a cold, sinister aura that lingered for a long time. “Make sure you don’t disappoint me, you guys. Don’t end up like the others.”

With that, after escorting Ji Jue to the entrance of the Obstetrics and Gynecology department, Mr. Qian pointed at the door, indicating that Ji Jue should report in. Then he vanished down the bloodstained, dilapidated corridor as faint wails echoed from somewhere in the distance.

Under the indifferent stares of the many bizarre patients lining the hallway, Ji Jue no longer dared hesitate. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The office near the entrance was not large. There were only a few desks, along with an attached restroom. Inside the office, two doctors looked up. One appeared numb and lifeless, like a puppet. After glancing at Ji Jue once, he lowered his gaze again without a sound.

The other had eyes filled with bloodshot veins. The moment he saw Ji Jue enter, his eyes lit up with what seemed like overwhelming joy.

His appearance was strange. It was as if he were partially paralyzed. His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably, making it difficult for him to form any expression. Even the fluctuations of his spirit matter had become fragmented and chaotic, completely lacking any pattern.

The Chosen One, who had apparently been stuck here for who knew how long, lunged at Ji Jue and looked him over. “A newcomer? Just as I thought. That clueless look on your face... one glance and it’s obvious! Got any spirit matter supplements?”

He began rummaging through Ji Jue’s pockets, urging him sharply, “Hand them over! Your equipment too.”

The man paused for a moment, and his face lit up with delight. His gaze settled on Ji Jue’s ring and the bell in his pocket, and he could barely contain himself. “Now those are some fine items.”

He completely ignored Ji Jue’s reaction and forcibly tried to grab the ring and bell. Only then did he realize that his wrist had been seized. The grip was like a steel vise. It left no room for even the slightest movement.

“What kind of place lets a newcomer get frisked the moment he arrives?” Still holding the man’s hand, Ji Jue glanced back at the other doctor, who sat motionless like a clay statue, before turning back with a small smile. “Is this one of the hospital’s rules too?”

The man froze briefly, then sneered. “Heh, you’ve got some nerve. Starting today, it is! You’d better hand over your stuff and behave yourself, or you’re going to have a very bad time!”

“Sure. Then make sure you hold on tight.” Ji Jue released his grip, but before the man could pull his hand out of the newcomer’s pocket, Ji Jue raised his palm.

Bang!

The impact sent the man flying backward, crashing into a cabinet in the corner. His eyes widened in shock as blood spilled from his mouth, and he slowly slid down to the floor. Spirit matter surged through Ji Jue’s body, enveloping his right hand. The Ember Path’s material manipulation took effect. His toughness was pushed to its absolute limits in a heartbeat, making his fingers stronger than steel.

The blessing of Flawless Craft amplified his strength and speed to their peaks. Without the slightest restraint, Ji Jue unleashed a strike. The terrifying force, powerful enough to tear apart steel, flowed through a smooth, effortless backhand slap and landed squarely on the man’s face. He held nothing back.

“You bastard!” The enraged Chosen One tried to push himself up, but a foot pressed down on his neck. With the slightest movement, the weak stream of spirit matter within him was instantly cut off and disrupted.

“Since anyone can make rules around here, I might as well set one too,” Ji Jue said, his smile growing. “During working hours, senior staff aren’t allowed to stand while talking to newcomers. Just stay down there. It suits you perfectly.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Corruption Bullet. Bending down, he waved it in front of the man’s face. “I advise you not to move. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to find out what this tastes like.”

The moment the mercury-based spirit matter seal was lifted, a horrifying aura radiated from the bullet, scary enough to make one’s skin crawl. The man trembled. He decided to obey Ji Jue, and no longer dared to move a single muscle.

“I ask. You answer,” Ji Jue continued calmly. “If I don’t like what you’re telling me, I’ll shove this bullet down your throat. When that happens, the corruption will start inside your stomach. You can even enjoy watching the new form your soul takes after it collapses and mutates. Understand?”

The man nodded frantically. The newcomer he thought he could bully at will had transformed into a grim reaper. He was on the verge of wetting himself, no way he could put up any resistance.

Over the next few minutes, Ji Jue barely even needed to ask questions. The man told him everything in great detail. His name was Zhao Zhou, and he was a thirty-five-year-old man from Tide City. He was a Chosen One of the Ruins Path and an outsourced contractor employed by the Security Bureau. He used to be part of a patrol team operating in the regions outside the Spring City caverns, then, without warning, he had been swept into this place sometime before Ji Jue.

According to Zhao Zhou, time flowed differently here. Although the gap between their entry into the Time Ruin had been less than a few hours, several weeks had already passed within the Time Ruin. He had discovered nothing at all, because aside from hiding in the office, obeying hospital regulations, never leaving his station, refusing to do any work, and dumping all his duties onto other people, he had done absolutely nothing.

Among the departments, Obstetrics and Gynecology was practically the quietest. There were not many patients. As long as one followed the hospital rules, patients would not attack, and as long as one stayed inside the office, the things outside could do nothing to them. He had survived purely through shameless persistence and cowardly caution. Both the tenacity of his survival instinct and the sheer extent of his uselessness were equally impressive.

From the man’s trembling confession, Ji Jue learned that Chosen Ones seemed to change after entering this place. They no longer needed sleep nor food. They felt neither hunger nor fatigue. Likewise, they became remarkably difficult to kill. Even if they lost a hand, had their heart torn out, or their legs or internal organs were ripped out, they could still survive. Even the pain was almost negligible.

Unfortunately, that was not good news. Here, both the doctors and the patients looked at these newly arrived doctors with undisguised greed. They constantly searched for any mistake they made or any hospital regulation they violated, then they stripped away their flesh and souls.

Eventually, once all flesh and soul had been taken from them, they would be sent to the morgue. A few days later, they would reappear outside among the waiting patients, wearing entirely different faces.

Zhao Zhou had personally witnessed several Chosen Ones meet gruesome ends after violating hospital regulations or making mistakes. They were all torn to pieces by Mr. Qian. Running was useless because there was nowhere to go. Begging for mercy was useless, too. It only made those monsters hungrier, greedier. They had long since fallen into hell.

“What about Mr. Qian and the other doctors? Do they show up often?” Ji Jue asked.

Zhao Zhou trembled. “I... I haven’t seen them much. I heard from someone from another department that the attending physicians of each department usually aren’t around. They only show up occasionally to assign tasks. Otherwise, they seem to stay in another building.”

Outside the window, shrouded in hazy mist, stood a low inpatient building. It seemed forever enveloped in wails and screams. Like a living creature, flesh and blood writhed across its walls. The windows resembled blood-weeping eyes, with dim crimson streaks slowly trickling downward.

“I see.” Ji Jue shook his head. After realizing there were no more useful clues to squeeze out of Zhao Zhou, he asked, “When did you die?”

“You... What do you mean...?” Zhao Zhou’s face twitched once, twice. His pupils dilated. “I... I...”

Ji Jue sighed and released his hold. “Think carefully, sir. You’ve been hiding here for a long time. Are there really no gaps in your memories? How much spirit matter do you have left? Is your soul truly intact? Your heart, your lungs, your right eye, and your brain. Where did they all go?”

Zhao Zhou’s eyes widened. His expression froze, as though some illusion had shattered. The instinctive disguise concealing his true appearance crumbled, revealing a broken face along with an empty eye socket. On his skull, hidden beneath his wig, was a gaping crack. Inside, there was nothing.

“I... I... died?” He stared at Ji Jue, his face filled with shock and desperate pleading. “How could I be dead? I’m obviously still alive. I...”

At last, he remembered. A few days ago... no, how long had it really been? A week? Even longer?

Inside the delivery room, shrill screams had echoed without end.

“My baby is dead! Give me back my baby! Give me back my baby!”

Blood had flooded the delivery bed. That eerie woman had clutched his hand tightly, the twisted fury on her face gradually softening into tenderness. But when she smiled, a chill ran straight through Zhao Zhou’s bones.

“You can be my baby instead,” she’d whispered. "My precious child, get into Mommy's tummy. Be a good baby...”

After that... What happened? Zhao Zhou could no longer remember. The only memories lingering within his shattered consciousness were the endless sounds of chewing, wailing, laughter, and the increasingly loud cries of an infant.

At last, he remembered. It turned out that he had already...

The lingering obsession sustaining Zhao Zhou dissipated into nothingness. The terror and distortion on his face gradually faded. What remained was a calm, numb, vacant expression, as lifeless as a clay doll. There was no breath, no thought, no awareness left in him.

Like a puppet, he slowly climbed to his feet and returned to his workstation. Once again, he immersed himself in his duties, just like the “co-worker” sitting beside him.

They had long since been assimilated by the Time Ruin, and they had become a part of it. The more flesh and soul one lost, the more severe the assimilation became, until eventually they merged completely with this place.

Wait. Was this really a Time Ruin? Or rather, was this really a normal Time Ruin?

Ji Jue had never personally run a dungeon before, but he had at least heard about them. Ordinary Time Ruin were merely malformed anomalies born from the mixture and contradiction of the powers of Supreme Benevolences. They should not contain such an overwhelming aura of corruption.

However, this was genuine, unmistakable corruption. The moment he entered the hospital, he had already smelled it. There was an absurd amount all over the place. Mr. Watch had been reminding him of it constantly, but strangely enough, there had been no prompt to extract anything.

Based on Ji Jue’s experience, Mr. Watch’s aberrant-extraction ability worked in two ways. The first was on himself. Whenever he wished, all he had to do was mentally confirm, and he could extract aberrants from his own body at any time. Even dragon blood fused into his body could be reverted.

The second could be used on others, but that came with way more restrictions. From the first bastard who had tried to kill him, to Zhu Hong, and after numerous experiments, one condition always had to be met: the target had to be dead, dying, or have lost their sense of self and control over their spirit matter.

But Ji Jue had clearly tried it just now. Since he pinned Zhao Zhou to the ground and beat him, until the moment Zhao Zhou’s final obsession shattered and his mind collapsed completely, Mr. Watch’s ability had shown absolutely no response.

Perhaps Zhao Zhou was not the source of the corruption. But then, what was? Perhaps what was corrupting the Time Ruin was not a person at all. Perhaps it was the hospital before him, or the entire Time Ruin itself.

Lost in thought, Ji Jue began tinkering with the equipment around the room. He twisted off a water valve, removed a faucet, and pulled out a steel pipe. Using nothing but the blessing of Flawless Craft and his bare hands, he dismantled the indoor unit of the air conditioner. After rummaging through its components for a while, he removed the pressure-regulating valves from two oxygen tanks as well.

Ji Jue activated Pacifier, and he crafted with his bare hands. No, that didn’t even require a true alchemical process. He merely processed, cut, assembled, riveted, and welded the materials together.

By the time he released his grip, a crude little makeshift pistol had been completed. The faucet and steel pipe formed its body. Batteries, wires, and a small electric motor provided the firing mechanism, and the entire mess of components was wrapped together with medical tape. This was a thoroughly improvised, junkyard-quality hand cannon.

Ji Jue grinned and let out a whistle before loading the Corruption Bullet into it. Finally, he raised the weapon and aimed it at the seemingly empty office, or, more precisely, at the swivel chair that appeared to move a moment ago in the reflection of the faucet mirror.

He smiled. There was no warmth whatsoever in his eyes. “Now then, we can have a proper conversation. Get the hell out here.”

Silence filled the office. Nothing and no one moved. Only the distant wailing echoed through the corridors.

Ji Jue’s expression remained unchanged. As his finger slowly pressed down on the motor’s trigger switch, he was completely unconcerned with the possibility that he could be playing a game of wits against empty air. According to Mr. Qian, at least one Chosen One had remained unassigned. Ji Jue did not believe that had simply been a mistake.

And there was also something Mr Qian had said when they parted. He’d specifically stated “you guys.”

Perhaps he had referred to all the Chosen Ones who had just entered the Time Ruin. Or perhaps there had been an unseen person following right behind Ji Jue.

The air seemed to blur and suppressed breathing sounds came from nearby. In the corner of the room, a familiar figure gradually emerged into view. Looking awkward and extremely nervous, the woman slowly raised both hands in surrender. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her face was pale. She was unmistakably Tong Hua.

“Don’t do anything rash, Mr. Ji.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. “It’s me, it’s...”

Boom!

A thunderous blast erupted in the office. Ji Jue pulled the trigger without the slightest hesitation.

If she hadn’t been hiding until now, Ji Jue could have believed she was acting in good faith, if only she'd used any unfamiliar face. Instead, she’d chosen the face of someone he knew as a disguise.

Who do you think you’re kidding, you little shit?