Chapter 910: Chapter 620: Morbid Crisis (Nine)_1

"Sister, I'm afraid I can no longer sit beside your bed and communicate with you as we used to. By the time you read this letter, I may already be conversing with the devils in hell."

"I have often told you that I hoped to go to heaven, but as I write this letter, I know I am most likely bound for hell."

"I am so sorry. You must be very upset right now, grieving my death. But I must tell you, it was all worth it. And now, you don't have time to mourn; there's something you must do, to make sure my death was not in vain."

"Our parents sent me to this mental institution 16 years ago. I've lived here a long time, understanding every brick, every blade of grass. But about two years ago, a group of people came here claiming to study the groundwater structure of Metropolis."

"At first, I was interested in their project, as I never had a chance to go to school. They were all highly educated and I enjoyed talking to them; they taught me so much I didn't know."

"I made a very good friend named Edith, a graduate of Metropolitan University — the university I'd always dreamed of attending."

"But because I knew this hospital all too well, I began to sense something. I realized they were not studying Metropolis's groundwater structure; they were conducting far more sinister experiments."

"I couldn't understand exactly what they were doing. But I knew they had established a laboratory underground for some sort of chemical experiments. Perhaps they planned to release the results into the groundwater and contaminate all the inhabitants of Metropolis."

"By the time you read this letter, I'm likely dead. What may sadden and disappoint you further is that I did indeed commit suicide, and my aim was to get you here to expose this terrifying conspiracy and save innocent citizens."

"Let's go back about two weeks. My close friend Edith, one of the researchers, burst into my room one night. She was gravely injured and before she died, she revealed she was a Soviet spy who had infiltrated this mysterious organization."

"On that very night, she obtained essential research materials, formulas for mysterious chemical agents. She had no way of getting the intelligence back herself, so she gave me all the material."

"She didn't ask me to send the intelligence back to the Soviet Union. She just urged me to hinder this conspiracy and protect innocent citizens from harm."

"She died in my room. I pretended to be asleep, buried my face in my pillow so no one could see my tears. They didn't care about me and so, I survived that night."

"I've spent most of my life in this mental institution. I never went to school or had any friends. I've never accomplished anything, but I knew I had to do this."

"But I didn't have any other choice. I'm not an agent. I've never been trained and can't leave the mental institution. The only way to expose this information is to get you here."

"I couldn't communicate with you directly, not even a phone call. They monitor everything in this city; it's a lot scarier than you can imagine. So, I could only tell you this way."

"I know you're an excellent detective. I'm sure you'll investigate my death scene thoroughly and thus find this letter."

"My dear sister, if you're reading this, I must tell you – please, don't act impulsively. The darkness you're about to face is only the tip of the iceberg."

"They rule this city, able to see everyone and hear every word. Everyone here is their prey."

"You must find enough allies and evidence to combat them. If you don't think you can, then take this letter and leave, the farther the better… never come back."

"Forever with love, your sister, Isabella Dodgson, last letter."

With a snap, Bruce closed the letter in his hand. He returned the letter to the envelope and put it back in its original place, then replaced the wooden panel.

"Things are worse than we imagined," Bruce spoke with more understanding of the circumstances than Isabella Dodgson, who wrote the letter. "Although this place is in the suburbs, it's not far from the city of Metropolis, and it's indeed a legitimate psychiatric hospital."

"To conduct geological exploration here, even establishing an independent chemical lab, requires layers of approval, not to mention the substantial funding."

"Moreover, the head of the central bank and the boss of Parlo Company are aware of this. Their business is likely to provide the funding for this lab."

"This means, as Isabella wrote in the letter, a mysterious organization rules this city – politically, economically, culturally… they are everywhere."

Bruce turned to look out the window. The city lights of Metropolis seemed less radiant, hiding a deeper darkness. He murmured to himself: "Owl…"

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