Chapter 136
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Chapter 136: Targeted Measures
“Please state your name.”
“Fresnel.”
“Not a codename, sir. We are conducting a full psychological test and treatment here. There are no recording or video devices present. If you have any concerns, we can even sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“There’s no need to be so formal.”
“Then, your name, sir.”
“Ethan, Ethan Shidelo.”
Lin Qingliu, who had been jotting down notes, paused briefly and looked up at the lively Fresnel with curiosity:
“Your family seems to place great significance on this matter.”
His remark was not unfounded. Having spent nearly half a year in this world, Lin Qingliu had come to understand some of its common customs.
Regarding names, what could he say?
The people of Hope City appeared less concerned about names, and the sense of inheritance had faded.
When it came to the question of “what one could be called,” the residents of Hope City displayed an unprecedented level of tolerance and openness.
This minor deviation from tradition seemed to serve as an effective way for individuals to alleviate the immense pressures of city life.
Thus, when Lin Qingliu discovered that the man before him bore a family surname—or at least a part of his name that resembled one—he was somewhat taken aback.
Upon hearing Lin Qingliu’s inquiry, Fresnel’s face broke into a natural smile:
“You seem to know quite a bit.
“My father once explained the reasoning behind this naming tradition.”
“And what was that?”
“It’s a way to honor the past.”
Fresnel continued:
“People of his generation deeply miss the life they had in the Old Era.
“I’ve heard that meteorite impacts occur only once every few million years, yet it happened to strike during their time.
“Many from my grandfather’s generation couldn’t believe, even in their final moments, that humanity had come to this.”
Listening to Fresnel’s nostalgic words, Lin Qingliu found himself momentarily at a loss for a response.
Though this world was not his homeland, concepts like humanity and cities were universal.
Perhaps, as common storylines suggest, this place and his hometown were two parallel worlds.
An unforeseen meteorite had caused a divergence in the timeline, and so on.
Lin Qingliu, ever the seasoned writer, began weaving scenarios in his mind from just a few remarks about the past.
“Indeed, though I never lived through that era, it feels as though a world without extraordinary beasts would somehow be better than this one.”
Lin Qingliu mused:
“Is that what fuels your hope?”
Fresnel’s face lit up with a fleeting, ephemeral surprise as he gazed at Lin Qingliu, as if he had stumbled upon a long-lost confidant.
"You, you truly live up to your reputation."
Fresnel’s voice carried a slight tremor:
"From a very young age, my father and grandfather have been recounting tales of the Old Era to me. I truly, deeply yearn for that time.
"My hope surpasses that of others because I have heard countless true stories, different from theirs.
"The elderly in the city are dwindling in number. In a few years, once they pass away, the image of the Old Era will gradually fade, becoming nothing more than a bubble in the air.
"By then, I truly wonder if humanity will still be filled with the hope to reclaim our homeland.
"After all, by that time, the so-called Old Era might just be a joke."
Lin Qingliu jotted down Fresnel’s words and expressions, embodying the role of a true psychologist, and remarked,
"Then, if that day truly comes, would you prefer humanity to merely survive, or to vanish from this world?"
Fresnel’s expression turned serious:
"Are you… certain there are no recordings here?"
Lin Qingliu chuckled:
"Absolutely. This is a mark of respect from a doctor to a patient."
"Phew."
Fresnel exhaled, glanced at the Clinic door behind him, and spoke in a softer, yet more serious tone:
"Though it may not be right to say this, I must say: if there is truly no hope, I would rather die charging forward than slowly perish underground."
Seeing Lin Qingliu’s puzzled expression, he explained:
"They say the underground areas of the inner city are being expanded. If this is merely preparation for future failures, I would be ashamed of it."
Noticing the psychologist’s lack of response, Fresnel’s expression grew peculiar:
"Did I say something I shouldn’t have?"
Lin Qingliu set down his pen and looked up:
"I’m a psychologist, and discussing what is usually unsaid is part of my job.
"If I kept hiding things now, then what would be the point of my being here?"
Fresnel hesitated, feeling that the other’s point made sense, yet it felt somewhat off.
"Why don’t you recall what my initial question was?"
Lin Qingliu’s words snapped Fresnel out of his thoughts, and he suddenly realized that the only question had been about his name.
Then, under the other’s gentle guidance, he had actually shared many of his inner thoughts.
He hadn’t even realized anything was amiss during that process.
At that moment, the doctor’s warm voice came once more:
"Don’t worry, Wang Xiao just said a lot of strange things too, but I won’t tell you, just as I won’t share anything you say with the next patient."
Fresnel let out a sigh of relief and, attempting to take the lead in the conversation, asked:
"So, what have you observed?"
Lin Qingliu leaned back slightly, twirling his pen, and replied slowly:
"You possess good leadership and affability. You get along well with everyone, while also having your own thoughts, not the type to blindly follow others…"
Lin Qingliu recalled those fixed phrases he remembered and spoke quite a bit.
A common phenomenon is that when someone is described positively yet vaguely, many people think, “Oh my! This is totally me!”
Fresnel felt just that. He looked at the doctor and felt as if he were completely exposed in front of him.
Lin Qingliu occasionally threw in some compliments and made conclusions like, “People like you always…” Eventually, he looked at Fresnel and said:
"I know as the team leader, your pressure is also considerable.
"Your team members only need to focus on training, but the leader has many other considerations, right?"
Fresnel thought these words sounded a bit odd, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong.
"That’s true…"
"This must have added a lot of pressure for you, right?"
Fresnel nodded.
"Your mind doesn’t have any issues, just a bit of stress.
"If you want to relieve it properly, I suggest you…"
Fresnel’s eyes widened.
"I suggest you write a book."
