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Chapter 628: Past Like Morning Stars (2)

In the previous chapter, Angela had just shared a surprising revelation with Constantine, and he couldn't help but sit down, his gaze fixed on her as he asked, "Wait, so you knew Schiller not during your investigation into the serial killings but from your childhood? You knew him back then?"

Angela took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. She then shook her head and replied, "No, I didn't know him at that time. I only remember that day when my parents had arranged for that specialist who was running late. So, they had the hospital's intern doctor perform a preliminary diagnosis on me."

"The intern doctor's name was Schiller, but at that point, I was already so frightened that as soon as I saw him, I started crying..." Angela paused for a moment, her expression transitioning to a wry smile. "I still remember that he seemed a bit awkward at the time."

"He had no idea why I was crying when he saw me. He tried to comfort me for a long time, but it had no effect. Eventually, it was my exhaustion from crying that allowed him to proceed with the examination."

Angela continued, "At that point, I had completely broken down. He asked me why I was crying, and I don't even remember what I told him, but it was undoubtedly a jumbled mess of words."

"But in any case, I explained everything to him, and what struck me was that he didn't react with astonishment to the fact that I could see certain monsters. Unlike many others, he didn't think there was something wrong with my mind."

"He said he could help me deal with this trouble, so I wouldn't suffer from it anymore, and no one would detect any mental abnormalities in me."

Constantine suddenly widened his eyes and looked at Angela, asking, "So you mean Schiller made you stop seeing those things? This can't be right. Wasn't it because the Demon chose your sister instead of you?"

Angela shook her head and replied, "He didn't explain too much to me. At that time, I was exhausted from crying, and he played a soothing piano piece for me. I gradually relaxed and fell asleep. I don't know what happened afterward."

Constantine remained lost in thought as he said, "In theory, you were able to see those things due to Mysticism, and your inability to see them was also a result of Mysticism. During this process, any psychiatry or psychology treatment should have been ineffective. You not being able to see those things was because the Demon had given up on your soul and went after your sister."

"How do you know the Demon went after my sister?" Angela suddenly asked, adding, "Based on my sister's letters, she committed suicide to uncover the conspiracy of that mysterious organization, not because the Demon came after her. So, how can you be sure the Demon chose my sister?"

Constantine replied, "Because if the Demon had chosen you from the beginning, you should have continued to see them, but you didn't. So..." He shook his head. "Indeed, we can't be so hasty. After all, your sister is now deceased, and no one knows whether the Demon found her before she died."

"If the Demon had initially chosen you, there should have been no way to make you stop seeing those things," Constantine pondered deeply. "Schiller must have employed some other method. This can't be." ...

"If he really had such a method... If he truly had such a method..." Constantine began to mutter to himself. Angela looked at him and said, "When I woke up, he told me to believe that those things absolutely didn't exist, no matter who asked, I should say the same."

Then, she raised her head, looking at the ceiling, and continued, "But that wasn't the last time we met. After I managed to apprehend the murderer of the conspiracy case, I began experiencing severe psychological issues again. Insomnia and nightmares were tormenting me, almost killing me."

"At that time, I was working on the conspiracy case, and during the investigation, I passed out. My colleagues took me to the hospital, where I encountered Schiller once again. However, by that time, he had become the chief physician."

"At first, he didn't recognize me, but I had always remembered his face. So when I told him I was the little girl who cried when she saw him, he was quite surprised. He never expected that I would become a police officer."

"So, I worked hard to get field assignments, excelled in every one, better than anyone else. Finally, I returned to Metropolis Police Department and participated in the first major case, solving it."

"I fear no serial killer, no matter how cruel or vicious. I put all my effort into bringing them to justice. That's how I overcame my inner demons and became the most renowned female detective."

Constantine patted Angela's shoulder, genuinely admiring the policewoman. Having endured countless mental torments himself, he knew how difficult it was to break free from such a state.

When a person's mind sinks to a low point, it's not as simple as saying "cheer up." It's like trying to lift a person who has fallen off a cliff with one foot, or making a drowning person struggle to stay afloat—it's practically impossible.

While changes in the external environment can aid in healing mental trauma, ultimately, it takes strong willpower to overcome it. Clearly, this female detective had a far stronger inner strength than most.

Angela stood up, turned her head to look at the still-lit emergency room lights, and said, "He saved me several times. Even though I'm not a doctor now and can't save critically ill patients, I can at least find out what's going on."

"Regardless, this is undoubtedly connected to that mysterious organization." Constantine extinguished his cigarette and tossed the butt into the nearby trash can. Angela reloaded her handgun and, as she walked away, said, "They will pay for what they've done."

Constantine paused for a moment, looking back at the lit emergency room lights, then turned and walked away.

As he walked away, he muttered to himself with a hint of puzzlement, "The first demon I summoned was just for fun with the ladies. But what about that hellhound from the depths of hell and that big guy who came later? What were they here for? How did they happen to appear at that time?"

Suddenly, his expression turned cold. He took out a Bible from his pocket, tore out a page, and held it in his hand. "Well, let's deal with those troublesome folks first. Owls? Hmph..."

When they had all left, beyond the quiet corridor, the emergency room door remained ajar, and Schiller lay on the hospital bed, pale and connected to a ventilator. Doctors in surgical gowns bustled around him.

The monitoring equipment nearby emitted a steady "beep" sound. Suddenly, the beeping became frantic. The lead surgeon immediately said, "Condition is deteriorating, hurry!"

The surrounding doctors scrambled, and after a while, the beeping stabilized. Then, in a matter of seconds, it became frantic again, and the doctors resumed their frantic efforts. This cycle of deterioration, rescue, stabilization, and deterioration repeated, with Schiller still in grave danger.

Meanwhile, in Schiller's Temple of Thought, Schiller, dressed in a black suit, stood at the center of the bottom of the temple, shouting upward, "Death! Death! Are you there, Death? I have some questions. Can you come see me?"

"Why isn't he coming?" Schiller exclaimed in frustration. "Grey Mist, can you make things a little more fatal?"

Soon, a woeful voice emanated from above, Grey Mist's voice. "I did my best, but the doctor's medical skills are too advanced."