Chapter 7: The Subconscious Monster?

Taking advantage of the daylight, after hastily finishing a meal, Zhou Mo tidied up and left his home, heading toward the Sunshine Health Check Center.

Two events occurred during this time—one good, one bad.

The good news was that Zhou Mo found the secondhand electric scooter his former self had bought for delivery work. The overall condition was fine; apart from the slightly pinkish color, it had no other flaws.

The bad news was that the meal stirred unrest in his mind.

“Hey, don’t throw a tantrum. I know you don’t like leftover fried rice, but our financial situation is what it is,” Zhou Mo said, a bit weary.

“I swear, once I find a stable job, I’ll work hard. Then, you can pick whatever you want to eat, okay?”

Zhou Mo felt a headache—not figuratively, but a genuine, pounding pain.

He believed few people had ever been mentally hammered by their own brain, especially while riding an electric scooter, his mind rebelling atop his head.

But what could he do?

His former self was a struggling recent graduate who could barely scrape together enough savings to buy this secondhand scooter. Zhou Mo planned to stretch his remaining money for at least another week; he couldn’t just blow his last savings catering to the brain’s whims.

When Zhou Mo was cooking the fried rice, his brain quietly opened the food delivery app on his phone, browsing expensive sweets. Had Zhou Mo not heard the payment alert in time, his entire week’s living expenses might have been drained by the brain’s impulses.

Suddenly, his eyeball struck the sunglasses perched on Zhou Mo’s face, knocking them off and forcing him to stop and put them back on.

“How about this? After we’re done today, I’ll buy you two bags of glucose to make up for it?”

Only then did the brain settle down.

“Sigh, you’re really hard to please.”

Zhou Mo shook his head and rode the little scooter all the way to the Sunshine Health Check Center.

After inquiring at the reception about the consulting room where Liao Feng worked, Zhou Mo took the elevator to the third floor. There, he saw Liao Feng’s private clinic busy conducting a health checkup on some middle-aged cadres from an unknown company.

Though he hadn’t met Liao Feng yet, Zhou Mo wasn’t anxious. He decided to wait until Liao Feng finished his appointments and then surprise him. He wanted to see the doctor’s reaction.

If Liao Feng was truly connected to his death, his expression would surely betray panic and fear. Even if he wasn’t the murderer, he must be involved somehow. At the very least, Zhou Mo could extract some information from him.

Still, Zhou Mo secretly hoped Liao Feng was the culprit himself. That would make reclaiming his mind easier, and he was curious to see Liao Feng’s face upon seeing him.

“Surely, it would be quite a show,” Zhou Mo mused.

If not for wanting to avoid unnecessary trouble, he’d have barged in to stage a grand spectacle right now.

Calming himself, Zhou Mo tapped his forehead and said, “If anything unexpected happens, be sure to protect me.”

He had a clear understanding of his own abilities—his meager skills barely qualified as street brawling. If it came to life-or-death combat, he would have to rely on his brain’s performance.

His mind had been lively all along, but upon stepping onto the third floor, it suddenly fell silent.

Hearing Zhou Mo’s words, his brain quietly lifted the top of his skull, opening a slight gap. At that moment, Zhou Mo felt a surge of intense unease and palpitations.

Frowning slightly beneath his sunglasses, Zhou Mo asked, “What’s wrong? Did you discover something?”

His brain couldn’t speak or transmit memories as it had the previous night. It could only poke its eyeball out of the socket, gently pushing Zhou Mo’s sunglasses and pointing toward Liao Feng’s consulting room.

The brain’s anxiety infected Zhou Mo, causing his heart to pound fiercely in his chest. The strange feeling compelled him to stand and slowly approach.

Passing through the shoulders of the middle-aged men, Zhou Mo saw a portly middle-aged woman in a white coat sitting at a desk, measuring someone’s blood pressure. She was neither tall nor imposing—rather, stout and even portly—completely unlike the killer Zhou Mo had imagined.

If that were all, neither Zhou Mo nor his brain would feel uneasy. At worst, the lead had run cold, and he would need to change investigative tactics.

The real focus was above Liao Feng’s head.

A giant bat, over a meter tall, hung upside down from the ceiling. Its enormous wings wrapped around its body, and its pig-like nose twitched slightly in the air. Sharp fangs protruded from its upper lip, and its black-brown fur appeared translucent under the room’s lighting.

Fortunately, the creature seemed to be asleep, its eyes closed.

Zhou Mo’s body stiffened. Turning his head, he noticed the middle-aged men chatting casually, none aware of the huge bat dangling above.

It seemed only he could see the creature…

Swallowing hard, Zhou Mo’s heartbeat skipped a beat despite his usual composure.

What on earth was going on?

Under the strange gazes of the middle-aged men, Zhou Mo forced himself to remain calm and returned to his seat. After settling his emotions, he whispered, “Is this what you wanted me to see?”

His eyeball wriggled in the socket, affirming the question.

“Heh…” Though he didn’t know what this thing was, it was enough to prove that Liao Feng had a problem.

Zhou Mo recalled that when he went to the Messer Clinic, the driver had mentioned subconscious monsters. If these were subconscious creatures, then Liao Feng’s subconscious must be disturbed.

Without a doubt, Liao Feng was involved with the person who killed him!

As for why he could see this, it was probably linked to his current state. He would have to explore that later.

‘What should I do now?’

Subconscious monsters could be dangerous; otherwise, they wouldn’t have caused so much chaos in Heyuan City. With such a creature present, should he confront Liao Feng directly?

After a moment’s thought, Zhou Mo tapped his forehead again: “Can you deal with that giant bat?”

This time, the brain didn’t answer immediately but remained silent for a while.

After a moment, the eyeball rolled up and down in his socket.

“So, you can take it on?”

“If that’s the case, then I know what to do. I’ll leave it to you.”

Zhou Mo calmed himself and sat on a bench, waiting for Liao Feng to finish work.

Unbeknownst to him, in a distant corner of the corridor, a square-jawed man with blond hair was quietly watching his every move.