9.4

In my half-awake, half-dreaming state, I could hear the anger creeping into his voice.

His crystal ball began spinning rapidly like a prayer wheel. My body involuntarily sat back down. I had no choice but to continue listening to his chanting.

Llama: You said your watch won’t vibrate again for another thirty minutes, right? No problem. This time I’m going to reveal my ultimate technique. I guarantee I’ll get you into the proper state within five minutes.

Patrick: What kind of ideological reeducation are you planning to give me this time?

Llama: Heh. No, not exactly. I want to try helping you heal your past traumas. You’ve accumulated far too many of them over the years. Big ones. Small ones. They keep piling up. All of that can make both your peripheral nervous system and your central nervous system overly sensitive.

Patrick: No thanks. Some therapists I’ve seen have already discussed those things with me, and some of them ended up introducing new traumas. I’ve already gotten them out of my system through both professional and non-professional channels. If people run to hospitals for everything, how are they ever supposed to develop the ability to digest experiences on their own? Besides, this is our first meeting. I don’t trust you yet, and you’re already trying to use hypnosis to dig into my deepest memories.

Llama: Our profession is full of all kinds of people. Don’t be fooled by degrees and certificates. What really matters is the depth of a person’s understanding. You shouldn’t try to carry everything yourself. Learn to outsource a little. It’s good for the economy. Besides, I think we’re destined to meet. Nobody forced you to come here. Fate arranged this encounter. Come on. Maybe a single session today will already make a difference.

Patrick: No thanks. I really don’t have time today. And this isn’t the moment I want to drag all those memories back to me. I’ve been busy lately.

Llama: There you go again. That’s a defense mechanism. Which means your problem is still quite serious. Looks like I’ll have to use stronger methods.

As he spoke, his eyes began flickering—sometimes fast, sometimes slow. The shifting rhythm left me dazed. I wanted to move, but I had no strength. All I could do was allow him to control the trembling of my eyes through his own. My eyes were now vibrating in sync with his, and I could feel the capillaries around them filling with blood.

He kept trying to use those synchronized movements to pull memories from my mind. Gradually, fragments of memory began flashing before me, but they remained only fragments. The harder he tried, the more exhausted he became.

Finally, he sprang to his feet in frustration. Tiny shards flew from the surface of the crystal ball, probably because he had released some Chakra through his hands. Visually, it looked like a hybrid of Kakashi’s Chidori and Naruto’s Rasengan.

[fig 05]

Llama: Strange. Why don’t your memories flow out like everyone else’s? They’ve all been organized into folders?

Every time I open one, I see the same types of experiences. And there are annotations everywhere. You even gave the people nicknames. Classroom Tyrant. Tiger with a Smiling Face. Madame Leech. White Coat Devil…

Patrick: That’s because they’re usually one of various types: members of the ruling class, thugs, or predators disguised as respectable people. The rules of civilized society don’t always apply to people like that. Even if you pull those memories out, so what? Can you change objective history? Do you honestly think you’ll change my view of human society?

Llama: That’s not the point. The problem is that your memories have already been abstracted. That makes them difficult to analyze.

Patrick: I never asked you to analyze them. Do you really think your analysis would be deeper than mine?

Llama: That’s not what I mean. I could simply listen as a friend. Isn’t that helpful?

Patrick: I don’t need someone with unclear credentials for that. I already have friends. At least my friends don’t charge by the hour. Honestly, I’d rather let AI analyze it. And when it comes to international matters, I’m definitely not discussing them with you. I’d have to spend half the session explaining background information. That would just waste my time.

He froze.

Llama: Human society is the same everywhere. There’s no real barrier between us. Don’t trap yourself inside a cocoon.

Patrick: Heh.

Llama: This is bizarre. You should already be hypnotized. How are you still arguing with me? I’m using so much power that my eyes can barely tolerate the heat.

Just then, my fitness tracker suddenly started beeping. I looked at the display. The Stress Level reading had crossed an abnormal threshold, and the watch was reminding me to do a breathing exercise. — That made sense. Being forced by Llama to relive old flashbacks had already activated my sympathetic nervous system. On top of that, he was testing the limits of my patience.

I quickly stood up, twisted my waist a few times, took several deep diaphragmatic breaths, and immediately felt myself becoming alert again.

Indeed, the whole experience had felt like a nightmare.

[fig 06]

Then the fitness tracker vibrated again. This time it was a calendar reminder from my phone: my car needed to be charged in half an hour.

Patrick: Heh. Sorry about that. That being said, I still haven’t hit my calorie target for the day. Otherwise it probably would’ve gone off again by now.

Llama looked utterly dejected. He was breathing heavily. Having failed to extract any useful raw data, he probably hated me by this point.

9.5

Llama: How many reminders does that watch of yours have? Does it ever stop? Whatever happened to the hypnosis?

Patrick: I’ve heard hypnosis requires the right time, the right place, and the right conditions. Why don’t you go consult an oracle and schedule me another appointment?

Llama: No. We’re so close. Fine. Let’s put the trauma discussion aside for today. Instead, I’ll give you a demonstration of one of Tibetan Buddhism’s greatest healing techniques: the Thousand Buddhas.

Patrick: No thanks. I don’t believe in Buddhism. It won’t work on me.

Llama: Oh, that’s not the point. The Buddhist imagery is just there to enhance the sense of ritual and atmosphere. Think of it as a visual effect. Just try it. I’m not even charging you for it.

Patrick: Nothing in this world is free. If the service is free, then I’m the product.

Llama: You are over-contemplative. You’re too cautious. That’s why you can’t move beyond your suffering.

Patrick: What does that have to do with anything? I came here asking for an evaluation. Instead, you’ve wasted a huge amount of my time. If this keeps up, I’m leaving.

Llama: One last attempt. If it doesn’t work, I’ll let you go.

[fig 07]

In an instant, he unleashed his final Dōjutsu (ocular technique). His eyes began spinning again—clockwise, then counterclockwise—like the dryer in my apartment. He brought his hands together, and suddenly thousands of Buddha statues appeared before me, revolving around my body. Every single one of them was chanting scripture. It was unbelievably annoying.

Gradually, the genjutsu began taking effect, and I entered a state of deep trance.

Llama: Tell me. Are you willing to commit to a treatment course?

Patrick: Huh? How many sessions?

Llama: 10. You can start with 5.

Patrick: How much does it cost?

Llama: Not much.

Patrick: What does it do?

Llama: Nani? It helps cure your psychological issues.

Patrick: I don’t need that. I only want treatment for my chronic soft-tissue problems.

Llama: Oh, no. We already agreed on this. Sign up for a treatment course, and I’ll help resolve all of your psychological traumas.

Patrick: No we didn’t. I don’t remember agreeing to anything. And I don’t even believe in Buddhism…

Suddenly, my fitness tracker began vibrating again. Slowly, I raised my wrist and looked at the display. My heart rate had dropped below the normal range, and the watch was warning me to get up and move around. The shock instantly shattered the illusion.

Llama: What’s happening? Ahhhh! Your d*mned watch!

The reflective surface of the watch bounced his eye technique back into his own eyes. The pattern returned to its source, and his internal system entered an infinite recursive loop—like two mirrors facing one another. Normally, I raised my arm too quickly for any meaningful reflection to occur. This time, however, my movement had been slow enough to give the reflected pattern time to return. His Rinnegan gradually stopped spinning, and then his body began to crystallize.

[fig 08]

He collapsed. His true form turned out to be a llama! Meanwhile, the crystal ball slipped from his hand, hit the floor, and shattered.

[fig 09]

I opened the blinds and took another look. His body really was sparkling like crystal.

Llama: That damned watch…

Then he stopped breathing.

Shaken, I staggered out of his office. My head was still throbbing.

I thought to myself: I never should have come to a witch doctor in the first place. Somehow this experience was just as horrifying as many of the medical encounters I’ve had over the years.

9.6

Still feeling dazed, I walked slowly down the corridor, which they dubbed Blackcloak Alley.

Just then, a young man with pink hair and a distinctly Korean look stepped out of one of the consultation rooms. He smiled at me, with his eyes seeming to sparkle with electricity. I squinted for a moment before finally realizing he was a man.

[fig 10]

Ray: Hello. Did you just finish a session with the Chief Physician? You don’t look fully awake yet. Don’t rush off. You should rest for a while first.

I thought to myself: His voice reminded me of Mike Deni, the leading voice from Geographer.

Patrick: If I don’t leave now, he’ll finish brainwashing me. I should’ve listened to Dr. Sweet and stayed away.

Ray: Oh? You know Dr. Sweet? I’m the Associate Chief Physician here. Just call me Ray.

Patrick: She mentioned you. She said if anything went wrong, I should come find you.

Ray: She probably wanted me to help wake you up. Strange… Llama actually let you leave before finishing the treatment? That doesn’t sound like him.

Patrick: He got trapped in his own genjutsu and crystallized. Turns out his true form was a llama.

Ray: I see… Dr. Divine is probably going to be heartbroken again. Dr. Superior’s death was bittersweet for him as well. After all, both of them were money trees.

Patrick: Right, I heard Llama was the Top Producer. After going through all that, I finally understand why. He’s unbelievably persistent, I mean, annoying.

Ray: Well, he never graduated from a proper medical school, and he wasn’t trained in psychology either. I think he originally majored in Buddhist studies. After a bit of further training, somehow he ended up as an Associate Chief Physician. Dr. Divine valued him because he wanted to turn our department into a “specialty program.” Around here, “special” means not following the conventional path.

Patrick: No wonder everything feels so unorthodox.

Ray: He doesn’t care much about medical ethics. In pursuit of results—and perfection—he’s willing to alter a patient’s memories without consent. For all you know, he may have already tampered with yours.

Patrick: He told me my memories had already been categorized and indexed. He tried decoding them the usual way, but it didn’t work. So are you trained in general medicine or psychology?

Ray: Just look at me. I’m gender-nonbinary. Besides psychology, what other field would’ve accepted someone like me without discrimination?

Patrick: Not necessarily. Abigail came from a difficult background, and Brandon Superior still valued her. The key is having a unique skill.

Ray: Exactly. Even though this department accepts people like me, I still need a special skill if I don’t want the other medical ninjas looking down on me.

He smiled.

Ray: Mine is sending electric signals through eyes.

[fig 11]

As soon as he finished speaking, he discharged a burst of electricity at me. It wasn’t Thunderbolt level, but it left my entire body feeling slightly charred.

That finally woke me up.

Patrick: So electricity has its own Chakra too?

Ray: Not exactly. My family has a contract with electric rays from the ocean. Other families have contracts with electric eels or electric catfish.

Patrick: And those abilities still work on land?

Ray: They do, but they’re weaker in air. Once we’re in water, people like us stop being just medical ninjas—we become the main combat force. Do you know why Dr. Divine assigned me to this department?

Patrick: To wake up patients who never come out of Llama’s hypnosis?

Ray: It’s happened before. Dr. Divine wants Llama to sell more treatment packages, but he’s also worried Llama might go too far. Llama himself doesn’t really understand the religion he preaches. He only knows bits and pieces, and he’s superstitious. My abilities hedge against his, so my presence serves as a safeguard for the patients.

Patrick: That’s pretty important for the hospital’s reputation. Thanks for waking me up. But if Llama’s gone, what will happen to you?

Ray: Dr. Divine will probably hire another Chief Physician. I’m just a supporting character.

Patrick: I honestly didn’t mean to reflect his ocular technique with my fitness tracker. He hypnotized me first, so my movements became incredibly slow, almost as if time itself had slowed down.

Ray: Don’t worry about that now. You need to leave. Once Dr. Divine finds out, you won’t be able to get away.

Still carrying some residual electric charge, I hurried out of Blackcloak Alley. I glanced out the window. The sun was already setting, casting a golden glow over the hospital.

[fig 12]

I thought to myself: I came all this way and accomplished nothing. All I managed to do was accidentally kill another corrupt doctor. How much hope is left in my life?

End of part 2.

End of episode 09.

To international readers: Blackcloak Alley isnamed after Wuyi Alley, a historic lane in Nanjing, immortalized in classical Chinese poetry as a symbol of the rise and fall of power and prestige.

*Jupiter‘s name was later changed to Ray by the author/creator, so [fig 10] and [fig 11] still had “Jupiter” in his name tag.