The 'Error' pathway—among even the legendary survivor trio—was infamous for being nearly impossible to kill.
Leonard's grandfather, or that troublemaker Amon, had danced with danger for years and survived. That said everything.
Sogetsu sighed.
"Alright. If that's your choice, I won't try to stop you anymore."
Deep down, he knew—there was no changing her mind.
That girl seemed fragile, but once she made up her mind, she would never change it so easily; her stubbornness was deadly.
After exchanging for the Sequence 9 potion of the "Error" pathway from the system shop, he handed the vial brimming with potion to Uchiha Hikari and softly reminded her, "Don't force yourself. If anything happens, be sure to tell me right away. Understood?"
If the members of the Twilight Hermit Order could see this scene, they'd probably be dying of envy.
They'd risk life and limb, braving wind and rain day after day to finally obtain this "potion," and yet she got it so easily.
What's more, she even had the Sequence One King of Angel watching over her attentively!
Such treatment could make anyone green with envy!
"Mm‑hmm ~"
Hikari took the Sequence 9 Marauder's potion and drank it in one gulp.
Finally, she was qualified to help Sogetsu—just like before. Soon, he would wait for her again, and soon she would truly be able to aid Sogetsu!
Sunshine, lawn, and fresh air.
Toshi finally stepped out of the ward again and onto the lawn outside the mental hospital. He spread his arms to embrace the sunlight and took a deep breath.
Yet a sudden shadow crossed his face.
"Is it real or fake? Let me test it once more!"
With that, Toshi immediately broke into a sprint toward the hospital's outer wall.
One step, two steps, he approached the wall in a continuous motion.
One couldn't help but admit: his movements were astonishingly swift. Almost before the guards could react, he was clinging to the wall over two meters high, on the verge of climbing over.
"Wait! Patient number 250, come back here!"
A piercing scream rang out from inside the ward: "It's bad, it's bad! Patient 250 is trying to escape! Stop him!"
The patrolling guard snatched up his stun baton and charged at Toshi as he tried to scale the wall: "Come down now! This is your only warning! If you don't comply, we'll use force!"
"Hmph, what idiots," Toshi sneered. He pressed his foot against the wall, braced himself with both hands, and vaulted cleanly over.
He landed and went into a long‑strided sprint toward the busy street.
Though it looked aimless, he ran with unwavering purpose, always heading in the same direction.
The reason was simple. If this world were false, there must be an edge, a boundary where unreality lay. Once he found that edge, he could turn the tables.
And even if he failed, the worst that awaited him was to be locked up again.
"I refuse to accept this!" he growled through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with resolve. "I refuse to believe any of this is fake. There must be a boundary to this illusion. This is a dream, a realm of the subconscious. You can't fool me!"
The bustling pedestrian street was alive with cars and crowds.
Onlookers stared as Toshi, clad in the striped uniform of the mental hospital, tore through the sidewalk like a madman.
After half an hour of relentless running, his breath finally gave out and he came to a gasping halt.
"Stop right there, Patient 250!" called a guard from a patrol car that had just pulled up.
"Damn it, I can't get caught here!" Toshi's face twisted into a snarl as his eyes snapped to the kindergarten that had just let out for the day.
Without hesitation he burst inside, grabbed a child, pressed his fingers into the boy's throat, and roared at the rushing guard, "Get back, all of you—stay far away. Don't come near me, understood?!"
The mental hospital guard jumped in shock and called out, "No, please don't do it—calm down!"
"Give me a car!" Toshi snarled as he tightened his grip. "Hurry up—give me a car or I'll kill him!"
Chaos erupted in front of the kindergarten as a crowd swarmed the gate. Police cars screeched to a halt and SWAT officers raised sniper rifles, fixing red laser dots on Toshi's forehead.
"Perfect—just as planned!" Toshi's eyes glittered with manic excitement instead of fear.
If this world was fake, he wouldn't truly die; and if it was real, life was worse than death—so he might as well end it here.
His mind teetered on the edge, collapsing under the weight of two conflicting realities and driving him toward a desperate gamble.
Just then, a disheveled middle‑aged woman in patched, ragged clothes stumbled forward out of the crowd.
"Toshi!"
The piercing cry yanked Toshi out of his violent reverie and back into reality.
He stared at the woman before him, memories flooding his mind, and instinctively called out, "Mom… why are you here?"
"Toshi, please… put down that child!"
Tears streamed down her face as she knelt in the dirt, bowing her head again and again.
Her forehead turned red and bloody from the force of her prostrations, yet she kept pleading, "Toshi, we have no money left. I beg you, please don't be impulsive. Just put the child down!"
"Mother…"
A surge of emotions he had never felt before filled the emptiness in Toshi's heart.
It was a strange, wondrous sensation—her desperate calls seemed to touch the softest, most vulnerable part of his soul.
Suddenly, he remembered.
When he was sick, it was his mother's hand gripping his, her voice whispering his name.
When he lost control and hurt others, she ignored her own pain and held him tight, refusing to let go even as he lashed out.
She had sewn every winter coat from scraps saved by scrimping and saving, all to keep him warm.
He recalled as a child envying a classmate's shoes, and how at a dim lantern's light his mother mended clothes stitch by stitch—so she could finally buy him a brand‑new pair.
And every time he fell ill, she carried him through rainy nights, searching door to door for a doctor.
Countless memories stabbed at Toshi's heart like needles.
They finally pried open his long‑buried emotions.
Unable to contain himself, he fell to his knees and let out a shuddering cry, "Mom, I can't tell… I really can't tell!!!"
Inside the attending physician's office at the hospital, the patient file—its pages covered in dense handwriting—turned slowly on its own, despite the still air.
At last, the pages came to rest on the final entry.
"Inspired by his mother's influence, Toshi at last recognized reality. He wept out, 'I can't tell, I really can't tell,' his spirit broken, and was escorted back to White Mental Hospital by security."
"Through a series of coincidental events, poor Toshi finally 'saw' the 'truth.' It doesn't make logical sense, but that is how the story goes."
A hand gently closed the file.
Sogetsu pinched the bridge of his nose, stared at the cover, and murmured to himself, "Have I gone too far?"
*******
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