Enforcer Manual
Chapter 705 - 703: Illness_1

Chapter 705: Chapter 703: Illness_1

Jock never imagined that he would receive such terrible news on this seemingly ordinary evening, and after a long silence on the other end of the phone, he couldn’t help but ask the person again, "Are you sure there’s no mistake, that guy Hog wants to commit suicide?"

"I’m certain."

Lucy had no doubt about it, "Just now in the coffee shop, he was about to shoot himself in the head in front of me."

"But why? Has he been unhappy with something recently?"

Jock was completely baffled.

Logically speaking, Hog had become a member of the Fisher’s Club, and soon he would be able to replace the Secretary-General and become a member of the High-level Parliament. That meant his life was going to return to its peak. Even at the most prosperous time of the Foster Family, they had never held such power.

He simply couldn’t understand any reason why Hog would think of suicide.

"On the contrary, Mr. Hog’s mental state seemed positive and upbeat, not like the usual depressive patients we see, only..."

"Only what?"

"Only he firmly believes that he is a Standin messenger. He thinks he can stop the entire world’s time for 2 seconds and when he shoots at himself, his Standin will activate the ability to dodge the bullet."

After long communications, Lucy had roughly figured out Hog’s Standin and psychic abilities. According to his description, his Standin’s image is a person wearing a trench coat and a mask, but he is currently at the beginner’s stage and still not skilled at using his Standin.

"What the hell is that?"

Jock immediately got upset; he had once heard Hog drunkenly confess his childhood dream of becoming a Psychic, reasoning that the rescuers on television were very cool and could incite peoples’ admiration and screaming wherever they went. But as he grew up, he realized that for the Foster Family, rescuers were nothing special.

If he wished, he could meet any rescuer outside of the Six Stars and the alternates anytime, and he also discovered that those people, although glamorous on the surface, had done many unspeakable things behind the scenes.

Could it be that Hog was so ill that he wanted to fulfill his childhood dream?

"I don’t know, but his description does sound somewhat similar to that of Psychics, only that there would be something like an ’evil spirit’ beside him."

When these words came from the current master of the Foster, Lucy understood that he was already gravely ill.

Especially when she observed that Hog, when talking about these things, kept his expression normal and his emotions stable, as if discussing a very ordinary matter. This reflected the depths of his conviction that he was a Standin messenger.

"We’ve seen similar cases before. I once treated a patient who fantasized about having the ability to fly, an employee of United Technology."

"Lucy, you know I’m not interested in these things. Just tell me how long it will take to remedy him. We can’t recommend a madman to become a member of the High-level Parliament."

"What I mean is, you need to be prepared for the worst."

Lucy said, "In the case I just mentioned, the company employee one night climbed to the top of the company building and leaped from it."

The patient did not have a conscious intention to commit suicide; he was just repressed for too long and suddenly got the whimsical idea of going to the rooftop with the intent to activate his abilities and circle the night sky like a bird, then return to his post and continue working.

Only he never made it back, and by the time Lucy arrived, the Law Enforcers had already sealed off the area. Due to the gruesome scene, they had covered the scattered remains with cloths.

"Generally speaking, the stronger the abilities they fantasize, the easier it is for them to walk a path of self-destruction. Worse, they usually don’t realize that they are committing suicide."

The mere concept of "stopping the entire world’s time for 2 seconds" was enough for Lucy to think of dozens of hazardous actions; this ability was far more dangerous than flying.

"You mean I need to have someone watch him 24 hours a day?"

"For safety, I will take him to my hospital first. However, this is not a bad opportunity for us to understand his true thoughts."

In the previous conversation, she had also realized that Hog had become much more talkative upon learning that he was a Standin messenger. If you overlook the fact that he once tried to commit suicide with a handgun, it could be considered a harmonious exchange.

"Then I’ll leave it to you, Lucy. I’ve transferred the money to your account."

"Got it."

Lucy paused for a moment and then said, "I owe you a favor, so I will try my best to remedy him."

After hanging up the phone, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time, pulled out her compact makeup kit, and touched up her makeup. From now on, she too had to become a Standin messenger, which was the only way to get close to Hog. If there was no information missing about Standin messengers on the net, she was ready to fill in those gaps.

"You’re back."

When she came out of the bathroom, Hog warmly spoke again, "Speaking of which, I still don’t know about your Standin. What does your Standin look like, and what ability does it have?"

"About that..."

Lucy deliberately lowered her voice and whispered, "My Standin’s ability is to fly in the sky. But this city is full of people from Psychic Research Institutions. Would you like to come back with me? I can demonstrate it for you there."

She had already thought through her excuses and made her corresponding plans.

Once Hog was at her place, she would use water laced with a sleeping potion to ensure he slept well. When he awoke, depending on the situation, she would use a tranquilizer to help him slowly accept the truth.

It was a painful process.

The majority of patients were unable to accept the transition from being an omnipotent Ability User back to an ordinary person. Even when they were vaguely aware of which side was reality, they always refused acceptance.

But Hog’s impulsive suicidal gestures compelled her to accelerate the entire treatment process.

"No problem, I just happen to be free tonight."

Hog readily agreed, this being the first time he’d shed his real-world identity to interact with someone, a foreign yet pleasant feeling. Plus, he was eager to learn more about the Standin messenger from the other person.

For instance, whether there were any other Standin messengers in the city.

Or perhaps, the tricks to controlling a Standin.

"Then, that’s perfect."

Lucy straightened her clothes, "Should I call for a car?"

"No need, I still have a floating car in my garage I seldom use."

"Then I’ll trouble you for a ride."

Lucy nodded her agreement.

Approximately ten minutes later, the floating car docked at the hospital’s ground floor. This hospital specialized in mental health issues, lacking departments for cybernetic repair or implantation, to not stress the patients with its ambiance, styled more like a typical office than a hospital from the outside.

With her outstanding professional skills, Lucy had made her first fortune in The First Region.

The First Region might be the city with the highest occurrence of mental disorders within the territories of the United Government. According to incomplete survey reports, about two-thirds of corporate employees exhibit tendencies toward anxiety or depression, and the excessive workload along with fierce competition left them gasping for air.

But she didn’t dislike the lifestyle of The First Region.

It was precisely this omnipresent pressure that presented such lucrative earning opportunities.

She was well aware that the city was not as peaceful as one might imagine, just as now, with siren sounds emanating from the vicinity of the hospital; it seemed that criminals bold enough to challenge the antiterrorist mobile teams were on the rise.

"Dr. Lucy!"

She had just stepped out of the car when a familiar figure rose from a chair in the hospital’s first-floor waiting area, excitedly advancing towards them, "I’ve been waiting for a long time."

The man was still in his work suit, apparently slipped out in the middle of his workday.

"Mr. Orman, unless I’m mistaken, you don’t have an appointment today."

As the most renowned psychologist in the hospital, Lucy would naturally not make her patients wait; she always confirmed consultation times with the patients in advance.

She disliked uninvited patient visits, especially at times like this.

Moreover, if she remembered correctly, this patient named Orman had been cured a week ago.

His symptoms were somewhat similar to another corporate individual who fancied he could fly. On their first meeting, Mr. Orman was convinced his hand could morph into iron and even transform into various tools and weapons at will. During the three hours of consultation, she spent most of the time listening to the abilities Orman set for himself and the real thoughts hidden deep within his psyche.

In the subsequent month of treatment, she helped Orman return to reality, to accept his true self.

In fact, they were all ordinary people.

Despite their fantasies, in the real world, it was impossible to spontaneously turn a hand into a gun and then blow up a bothersome boss’s head with it.

Lucy had to lament the increasing frequency of such patients recently, even notables like Hog Foster were not exempt.

"I know, but this matter is somewhat urgent."

Orman seemed to be in an extreme state of anxiety, looking much more haggard compared to the last time they met, his hair a mess, and his beard appeared unshaven for some time.

"I have some matters to deal with right now, we can talk after I find some time later."

"But Dr. Lucy, you said those were all my fantasies, my hand couldn’t possibly turn into an actual gun." As Lucy started to walk away, Orman suddenly raised his voice in agitation, "You also said if I hated my boss, I could totally use my imagined powers to kill him!"

To this, Lucy didn’t deny.

Patients always needed a way to vent, and if they could relieve their stress by killing someone in their imaginary world, it wasn’t a bad solution.

"But, he has really been killed."

Orman suddenly laughed, a laugh so grotesque it was frightening, "His head burst open, spewing white stuff all over."

And Lucy finally saw what had been concealed in his sleeve all along.

Orman’s palm was gone, and his forearm was bizarrely attached to a silencer-fitted handgun.

The sounds of sirens drew increasingly closer to them.

Along with the sirens, the thunder of armored floating cars roared as they hovered over the street block.

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