Hugo moved on, studying Victor who just entered, seemingly trying to find some dissonance in him. Despite not finding any, even though he had not met Professor Fries before, he could perceive from the image of him in Cobblepot's mind, that he was a wise, erudite and elegant professor.
Before he could deduce the answer, the door rang again, a man in a trench coat strolled in with an umbrella. Hugo looked somewhat surprised as he said, "Schiller?"
"How is it, Mr. Cobblepot, has your condition improved? How are you feeling lately? Are you not planning to move yet?"
Hugo could tell, Schiller seemed to play the role of a gentle doctor in Cobblepot's heart.
But this seemed normal to Hugo, from the treatment records of Cobblepot, Hugo did not see any aggressive treatment plans, only some conservative psychological consultations and conversations. It was no surprise that Cobblepot considered Schiller to be a good doctor, but Hugo believed this conservative treatment approach simply demonstrated Schiller's inaction.
Now, Hugo in reality frowned, while exploring Cobblepot's conscious world and whispered, "Come on, let me see what you fear the most..."
Saying that, he pressed a button on the machine, the machine emitted two sharp alarms, then Cobblepot's conscious world began to shake violently.
A brutal scream echoed from the broken space. Hugo saw a monstrously large figure of an elderly woman drenched in blood, wielding a dagger. One of her fingers was larger than the entire Ping Shan Restaurant. Her face covered in blood, she swung the dagger, and in an instant, shattered Cobblepot's consciousness space.
Hugo, connected to the machine, also cried out in pain, then returned to reality, panting heavily for a long time while sitting on the floor.
Hugo, holding his forehead and standing up, whispered, "I should have expected... Fear can be made more tangible, more destructive..."
Cobblepot, however, seemed to have simply woken up from a nightmare, whereas the pale-faced Hugo had to muster all his strength to say, "The result is not bad, only your will is somewhat weak, which may be disturbed by the figures you fear..."
"I know." Cobblepot replied calmly, "Because I often have nightmares."
He saw Hugo looking as though he was quite drained, and felt a bit of contempt. He didn't feel any improvement in his condition from this hypnotic treatment, but the doctor appeared to be quite exhausted.
He shook his head, before leaving he thought, it would be better to come back when Doctor Schiller is around, this replacement doctor just wouldn't suffice.
Hugo, despite his setback with Cobblepot, was not ready to give up. He thought it might just be a coincidence. Cobblepot was a one-in-a-million prodigy, so his details were very specific, but he still believed that this could not achieve the level of the Thought Palace, but was only a more exquisite picture of his own dreams and expectations.
Another name recorded in his medical records looked familiar to Hugo, it was Victor Fry.
In Cobblepot's consciousness, Hugo had heard Cobblepot calling him "Professor Fry."
The medical record stated that Victor was diagnosed with mild anxiety. The symptoms were quite general, there was a record of medication treatment, and it seemed he had recovered quickly. But Hugo was still curious about it, he wanted to see if Victor was the same in Cobblepot's conscious world, so he called Victor.
As a colleague of Schiller, of course, Victor knew Schiller had quit. But this time Hugo called on the pretext that there was a problem with a prescription invoice and wanted Victor to come in to sort it out.
Issues about invoices, tax payments, and insurance were taken very seriously, Victor didn't find it impracticable. He'd previously had to visit the office regarding an invoice.
Walking into the clinic, when Hugo suggested a simple recheck, Victor didn't think much about it. He figured Hugo just wanted to ensure the previous doctors hadn't been reckless with the medication, so he keenly climbed onto the chair.
Hugo, in the same manner, ventured into Victor's consciousness. As soon as he entered, he was knocked down by a face full of strong chill wind.
What confronted him was a frigid and vast icy plain. Hugo looked left and right in bewilderment, finding no apparent end.
It was previously mentioned that the surface consciousness of a human being is like a square because the size of human conscious space is limited. The margin of most people's consciousness space lies in the limits of imagination and thought. However, Hugo walked in this vast snowy plain for a long time but found no boundary.
There were only three things here: ice, snow, and snow transforming into ice. Maybe even wind was non-existent because Hugo didn't hear any sound of wind. It was a tranquil space in the extreme.
But tranquility was not a good thing, it made this place feel even colder. From beginning to end, Hugo had only one feeling, and that was cold, unbearably cold.
Hugo clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, attempting to decipher the secret of this consciousness space. But no matter in which direction he moved, how long he moved, what gestures he made, what words he shouted, all that responded to him was continuous heavy snow and boundless ice field.
There were no abstract concepts, no memory fragments, none of the things that a human mind should have; only snow and ice and coldness.
Just as Hugo was about to give up in despair, finally, he saw a spark of fire in the distance on the ice field. He walked towards it with all his might. Who knew how long he walked, until his conscious mind went numb from the coldness, he finally saw a small bonfire.
There were several figures around the fire. Cobblepot crouching to warm his hands, Victor standing nearby reading a book, and Schiller adding firewood to the bonfire...
Why is it Schiller again? Hugo thought, why is he everywhere?
But apart from this. There was nothing. Looking at the endless snowy plain, Hugo's heart had already gone numb, but he diligently pressed the button on the machine, eager to see what Victor feared.
Then, he heard a faint "crack" ringing from the consciousness space, like the sound of something shattering, then it was getting louder and louder...
In the blink of an eye, a terrifying storm swept everything away.
When Hugo's consciousness returned to his physical body, he wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattering.
In the office filled with warmth from the heating and burning fireplace, he felt an extreme coldness, the likes of which he had never experienced in his life.