Strongest Maniac: Born in an Asylum

In room 666, all the equipment had been removed. In the past, they could have used the dumbbells to pound their bodies or hit the punching bag to train, but now there was nothing.

This made Leo, who considered himself to have just finished a can of Coca-Cola, feel like his world was collapsing. His heart felt empty and lonely. His familiar companions were all gone.

"Are you unhappy?" Walter patted Leo on the shoulder. Seeing Leo's sadness, he pouted, also looking unhappy.

"Yeah," Leo said, a little distressed. Those were his little buddies, and now they had disappeared.

Walter rummaged through a cabinet, half his body disappearing inside. After searching for a long time, he exclaimed happily, "Found it! I found it!"

Two pieces of paper, one watercolor pen.

Walter placed the paper on the bed, lay down on his stomach, his bottom in the air, busy with something.

"Oh!"

"How do you write 'dumbbell'?"

Walter scratched his head, frustrated.

Leo lay beside him, his expression serious. After a long moment of contemplation, he said, "I don't know either."

"I remember I used to know how to write," Walter pouted, frowning. The watercolor pen hovered over the paper for a long time without moving. Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed. He patted Leo on the shoulder. "I've got it!"

"The guy next door told me that pictures are the most real things."

Swish! Swish!

Walter drew a dumbbell on the paper.

« O—O »

"What does this look like to you?" Walter asked, pointing proudly at the drawing on the paper.

Leo said calmly, "A dumbbell."

"That's right! If we can recognize it, they can definitely understand it too. After all, they don't seem that stupid," Walter said.

Leo praised, "You're so amazing."

Walter shook his head proudly. "Of course. Watch this, the punching bag is even easier to draw."

With a few deft strokes, a picture appeared on the paper.

« 0 »

"What do you think this is?" Walter pointed at the paper, asking again. He loved being praised, especially by Leo.

Leo exclaimed in admiration, "A punching bag."

"Correct! It's a punching bag. Isn't my drawing great? I told you, I used to have a talent for painting. If I had become a painter, all those so-called masters would be my disciples and grand-disciples," Walter said confidently.

"Wow, your drawing is so realistic," Leo said.

Walter gave one of the papers to Leo, then held his own high above his head. "Let's go protest! Let them give us back our dumbbells and punching bag! Those are our things!"

The door to Ward 666 opened.

For all the medical staff at Green Mountain Asylum, this was the room they worried about most. You never knew what they would do next.

Leo and Walter held up their signs and walked down the corridor.

"We want this!"

They shouted in unison, as if they had practiced it a thousand times, without a single mistake.

In another ward.

A mental patient was using a sausage as a ruler, teaching his roommates below about the endless mysteries of the cosmos.

He was called Professor Cosmos.

Walter's Galactic Circuit Rotation Technique had been created with his guidance.

Professor Cosmos's face was filled with anger. He saw that his students were being distracted by the noise outside. He tapped a student on the head with his sausage. "Everyone, pay attention to the lecture!"

The mental patient students ducked their heads, pretending to be serious, but their eyes kept darting outside.

Professor Cosmos shook his head and looked outside, then said angrily, "All of you, sit properly! I'm going to teach them a lesson."

The mental patient students watched the professor go out, their eyes wide. Then, through the window, they saw Professor Cosmos also raise his hands and shout along with the others…

He even beckoned to the students in the room.

His lips moved.

Although the people inside couldn't hear, the meaning was clear.

"Come out, this is fun!"

The Director's Office.

Director Hess was in a good mood. A bowl of ice cream sat in front of him.

He said to himself, 'Director Hess, happy birthday.'

Then he ate it, spoonful by spoonful. It was sweet and cool, a truly relaxing time.

And he was also very idle.

No one ever came to him for favors.

Because he was the director of the Green Mountain Asylum. Who would ask him for help?

If someone did ask him for help, he would be very surprised.

What?

You have a mental illness? Don't worry, I'm the director. I'll definitely arrange for you to have a graceful patient environment. You'll live there and never miss home.

If someone had committed a major crime and needed his help, hoping to use his connections to get a mental illness diagnosis…

He would definitely agree without hesitation.

He would handle it personally.

And on the official recommendation, he would write:

Extremely dangerous individual, poses a great threat to society. Recommend painless death or permanent confinement.

The Dragon Kingdom took the recommendations of a top-tier asylum director very seriously.

Once upon a time.

He had used his power to do such a thing. Although he felt it went against his duties, he felt that the mother, who was also not mentally well, was too pitiful.

The little girl was too young, and no one believed her.

The arrogant second-generation rich kid had money and power and had used his connections to find him. He had originally intended to ignore it, but he had paid attention to the news about the case, a very vicious XX incident, and had seen the arrogant second-generation kid with his own eyes.

His heart, which yearned for peace, was stirred.

In the end, he wrote a diagnosis that decided the other person's fate.

And he told the second-generation kid, "You just have to keep telling people, 'I'm not mentally ill'."

If you say you are mentally ill, people won't believe you.

Only by saying you are not mentally ill will people believe you.

That incident had an impact on Director Hess. The second-generation kid's family announced they wanted to buy Director Hess's life.

Director Hess was completely baffled.

Do you have any idea what you're saying?

I know the top brass of Mount Mao, the Daoists, the Buddhists, and the Medical sect. You want to know why?

Well, it all started 30 years ago.

That night, it was raining heavily… a girl named Rose stood at his door, drenched to the bone.

No, that's not right.

It was that when those high-ranking officials were young, they were all cultivation maniacs. They didn't want to be disturbed by the academy's curriculum, so many of them came to him, hoping to get a mental illness certificate so they could cultivate in peace.

Director Hess, with his chivalrous spirit, generously brandished his pen.

'This patient needs an extremely quiet environment and cannot be disturbed, otherwise it will have a great impact on their condition, especially the theoretical curriculum, which is the most dangerous.'

A perfect operation.

Then, when those guys wanted to come out of seclusion, he would brandish his pen again.

'After my careful treatment, the patient's condition has recovered to be no different from a normal person.'

Now.

Those people had all become high-ranking officials.

When Director Hess encountered trouble, they couldn't not help him. God knows if the big-mouthed Director Hess would say something inappropriate to the media. Although it wouldn't have a big impact on them, it was still a stain on their record.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Come in." Director Hess held the ice cream container, licking it clean. So delicious.

A doctor rushed in and said, "Director, it's bad! The patients in Ward 666 have rebelled, and they've dragged other patients with them! They're shouting in the corridor right now…"

Director Hess's eyes widened.

This is getting interesting.

Can't you people spare me?

I'm retiring in ten years. I hope I can retire in good health, not die of exhaustion here.