Ewan hesitated for a moment before finally agreeing.


    As we made our way to the asylum, my body trembled uncontrobly.


    I couldn’t understand why I felt so sad, but the image of that charred room remained


    etched in my mind.


    The fire, the thick smoke, and the desperate cries reyed vividly in my thoughts.


    When Steven and I shared a room, I immediately noticed the grotesque scars from the fire covering


    his entire back, as well as his hands and legs.


    He must have endured so much pain back then.


    “That asylum waster shut down, and the director was arrested because of reports of patient


    abuse,” Ewan said.


    During the journey, I looked up the asylum and came across numerous horrifying


    scandals.


    The doctors derived pleasure from tormenting and abusing the patients, subjecting them to electric


    shocks, drowning, suffocation, and torture.


    The darkest aspects of human nature were amplified within those walls.


    As I sat there, a sudden realization washed over me. “Apart from the director’s arrest and sudden


    death from a heart attack in prison, the other doctors, who weren’t


    convicted, seemed to have died one after another over the years,” I muttered.


    Were all these events truly a mere coincidence?


    “Somebody online suggested it’s payback for the lunatics at Saint Sahns Asylum,” I murmured,


    feeling inexplicably uneasy as I scrolled through the thread.


    If the deaths of those doctors wasn’t a coincidence, could they be connected to the serial killings at


    the orphanage too?


    My head suddenly throbbed, and I instinctively pulled at my hair, trying to keep myselfposed.


    Perhaps they were idents. Maybe it truly was all just coincidences.


    “I’ve always believed that the universe has a way of bncing things out,” Ewan said as


    he opened the car door for me after we arrived.


    I sensed he was hiding something, but there were certain matters I knew better than to pry about.


    The asylum had been sealed off, so we had to sneak in through the gates.


    It felt just as eerie as the orphanage, instantly unsettling me upon arrival.


    Recently, a popr livestreamer had explored this ce, iming it was haunted.


    “This was Mr. Lincoln’s room. The Lincolns specifically instructed it to be a single room for his


    comfort,” Evan said.


    But instead, it was like hell.


    I pushed open the door and froze in ce for a moment.


    The walls were adorned with forms and numbers, revealing his attempt to calcte something.


    The room was oddly clean. For a moment, I could almost picture a teenager in a white patient


    gown, diligently scribbling calctions on the wall with a pencil.


    I walked along the walls, gently tracing the numbers as I went.


    Atst, at the end of the room, I saw that form. He was using calculus to calcte pi, endlessly


    working out every digit after the decimal point.


    “What did he want to do?” I asked skeptically.


    Steven was undeniably a genius in mathematics and finance. But what drove hist obsession with


    calcting pi?


    “The doctor who exposed the asylum scandal mentioned that Mr. Lincoln was eager to prove


    something. Everything, like pi, has a pattern that can be calcted to the smallest


    detail.”


    He continued, “With the loop in time, everything can reset as long as we can figure out the pattern.


    Souls exist across different dimensions of life…”


    Ewan also seemed puzzled.


    Anything was possible in the world of madness.


    I stared in shock at the wall of numbers, feeling as if I were submerged in icy water.


    When everything followed a pattern, time could flow backward, and souls could be


    reborn.


    1 covered my mouth in shock. Steven wanted to prove that this world was illusory and that


    everything would eventually start anew.


    “He’s a genius…” Steven was truly an otherworldly genius, or perhaps, a madman. This is the property of N?-velDrama.Org.