Inside the silent bedroom, the headache intensified. Cold sweat drenched Gu Jun's forehead. In the darkness, he heard a voice.
It came from an old tape recorder. It buzzed and stuttered. It was a rich male voice speaking in a steady tone. It was Chinese, "If you can hear us … We … are the good guys …"
No matter how much he endured the pain to listen, it was the same sentence. He could only hear this sentence …
It didn't seem like someone was talking to him. It seemed like a broadcast signal that no one else could hear, but he did.
"… If you can …"
Suddenly, the pain in Gu Jun's head reached its limit. As the voice faded away, he opened his eyes and started to take deep breaths.
In the past, he had heard strange sounds from the outside too many times. Some of them were mental infusion, and some were curses and ritual powers. But this time, the feeling was different … This time, his most intuitive feeling was that he had heard some kind of broadcast signal.
"Signal? Who is sending this signal? What is their purpose? "
Gu Jun thought about it. He managed to glean some clues from this sentence.
Firstly, 'If you can hear us', the person believed that he might not be able to hear it; or perhaps it was not meant for him alone, it was a broadcast.
Secondly, 'we', the person was not a single person but an organization. Furthermore, they were using Chinese, meaning they were from China.
Thirdly, 'the good guys', the person emphasized it so it meant that the listener was someone like him. Once they heard it, their first thought would be whether the person was good or bad and they would lean towards the bad guys. If it was some oldies or weather channel, there was no reason for it to start with this sentence.
Of course, this sentence could have been purposely set up by the person to lead Gu Jun to this conclusion.
Gu Jun looked around him and he felt like he was being shadowed. 'Good guys?' He doubted it, in fact, he did not believe it at all.
He had no idea whether this was a broadcast or just for him but how many organizations were there in the world that had the ability to do something like this? Phecda could not do it, nor could FBM. He and Dirty-minded Yu had successfully shared pictures before but it was not like this.
If it was a righteous organization with such power, why didn't they stand up after so many things had happened?
The Phecda has already been released, and GOA has already announced its establishment, and they're still not coming out? Was this considered a good person? Where was he now?
Gu Jun frowned and suddenly thought of another possibility. A signal from the future or the past? No, it's not like that, it's not this kind of feeling …
Was that an extraterrestrial signal? A signal from the Other World? Dreamlands?
It was the simplest and most direct possibility. The people behind the signal were a bunch of scumbags, and they were plotting something.
It was precisely because he knew that he would think this way that he emphasized that he was a good person and wanted to create a better new era and world.
"Who are you?"
After a while, Gu Jun stood up and spoke to the air around him. He wanted to see if the other party would surface.
"Good people? You think you're good people, right? Your moral standards are different from ours. "
He walked around as he spoke. He pulled out the drawer of the bedside table and opened the armoire. He mumbled to himself, "The R 'yleh Cult? I know not all of you are dead. The people from the Afterlife Cult have sacrificed themselves, but there are still some bastards hiding in some unknown mountain with your leader, that immortal old Daoist, calling for R'yleh … "
"And the Yellow Brotherhood … Mr. Wang Erde, is that you, Mr. Wang Erde? You're not dead yet, are you? Is that so …"
As he spoke and thought about all these, Gu Jun's headache intensified again. His heart twitched and his muscles tightened.
These symptoms infuriated him. Even the thought of these abnormal things caused him to feel the same way …
At that moment, some scary images flashed across his mind. The city turning into ruins, Wu Shiyu's smiling face turning into a wretched state, and the rest of the people …
Just thinking about it made his heart ache as if it was being cut open.
"Ah!!" Gu Jun couldn't help but roar. He kicked the wooden wardrobe that had no trace of abnormality. With a loud bang, the wardrobe shook violently.
He took a deep breath and tried his best to control his emotions, to control the symptoms of PTSD … After all, he still could not accept this physical condition. He could not accept the fact that he was powerless to protect the people he cared about. He did not even have the chance to try his best …
"If you can hear me, then listen …" He mumbled as he walked back to the bed. "Regardless of whether you're good or bad, I'm already a cripple. I can't hear anything more …"
But then he thought about it, this confused him.
What was the other party's goal? To push me into madness? Even if I'm already in this state, they still want to drive me crazy?
But … was what he had just said real? Or was it just an auditory hallucination?
Normally, Gu Jun could tell the difference between real and fake, but this time, he could not be sure. He did not know whether it was because he had lost that ability or this was just a special case.
Perhaps one of the reasons was that he could not find the pattern of this feeling. It was different from the normal triggering pattern of hallucinations. This time, it appeared to be random.
If it was really a PTSD attack, he would not be surprised …
Gu Jun sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. As he thought about it, he suddenly smiled bitterly. He should be content. He had lived for so long. Not only his previous injuries, he had been prepared to die from the brain tumor two years ago. His current situation was not as bad as it was then.
Even though he had taken a long vacation, he had only left Phecda for a few days. It was not that easy to return to his normal life.
This was like a soldier who had retired from the battlefield. Whether or not he had been diagnosed with PTSD, he still needed to go through the process of returning to the battlefield …
Perhaps taking some anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs would be good for him at this stage.
Gu Jun thought about it again. Even though he was already leaning toward the possibility that the voice was an auditory hallucination — the incidence of auditory hallucinations in patients with PTSD was forty to fifty percent — he still took out his phone to call Tong Ye to report the situation. "Someone or an organization might be spreading the signal. I'm afraid this is a recruitment tactic."
Whether it was targeting him or some other organization, whether it was his illness or not, Tong Ye paid great attention to it. However, other than him, nothing like this had happened in the past two days.
"Ah Jun, we'll follow up on this. If there are any new developments, I'll inform you immediately," Tong Ye said. "It's getting late. Make sure you get some rest."
Indeed, it was already midnight by the time he finished the report, and Gu Jun's head was swollen with pain.
Therefore, after hanging up and putting down the phone, he hurried to lie down on the bed. He took a deep breath to adjust his breathing and forced himself to sleep amidst his chaotic thoughts.
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