Wenjie struggled against unconsciousness. The fog created illusions before his eyes. The thickness of the oxygen decreased noticeably. He struggled for air. More gas entered his nose. The air in front of his eyes shimmered strongly. He gathered all his strength and crawled across the floor towards the door. 

A leaden heaviness settled over his eyes. A ray of light passed over him. Wenjie blinked. Shadowy figures came in. The door. It was open. Air. Air rushed in. He breathed in greedily. 

Hands reached for him, grabbed him under the arms. He felt the floor under his knees as the security guards, there had to be some, dragged him out. He was not allowed to fall asleep. His vision cleared, for the moment. 

The men were wearing gas masks and uniforms. They took him to an elevator. The display on the control panel showed the floor. They drove down. To the first floor. To the basement. From there, they reached a single, long corridor. Without traps. Only neon lights on the ceiling. Poisonous green light flooded the corridor. There was only one door at the end, equipped with a hand scanner. 

The security officers placed their hands on it one by one and the door opened with a hiss. Behind it, a room full of technical equipment opened up. Most of it was computers, monitors, cables and technical accessories. In the center was a chair that reminded Wenjie of the chairs at the dentist.

He wanted to fight back. But his body lacked the energy to do so. Before he knew it, the men had placed him in the chair and strapped his arms to the backrest. He tried to pull his hands through the buckles. They were too tight. 

By now he could see clearly again. That didn't necessarily make it any better. While one of the men fastened more straps, reducing his freedom of movement to a minimum, the other went to a cupboard. From there, he retrieved a box containing syringes and vials of a green liquid. 

Wenjie took a deep breath. “You can save yourselves the trouble. I'll cooperate even without truth serum.” 

The man next to him tightened one of the buckles. Then he opened a drawer of the side table hanging from the chair. He took out a piece of black tape, tore a piece and placed it over his mouth. 

They didn't want to interrogate him? What were they up to? A slight panic set in. His gaze wandered to the man with the syringe, who was now standing next to the chair. The other man pushed Wenjie's right sleeve back. Shortly afterwards, he felt a prick in the crook of his arm and could see the liquid entering his veins. 

The guy on his left opened another drawer. This one was twice as big and contained various medical devices. These included a face mask, cables with small suction cups on them and a helmet with a silver visor. 

What were they up to? What was happening here? These weren't normal security guards. These ... Wenjie's eyes widened as he realized this was probably all part of a bigger plan. It was never about stealing anything. 

Xu Zhengqing's friendly behavior had been a lie. He had never really intended to be a good friend. Whatever they were up to, it was a belated punishment for his disobedience. Or at the very least, it was a new nasty trick to break his resistance. 

They wired him up, put the face mask and helmet on him. A sweet smell filled his nose. The surroundings blurred before his eyes again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the men working on the computers. 

Darkness enveloped him. A light burned in the blackness. It came closer and stung his eyes. He squeezed them shut. When he opened them again, he was lying in the vault where Ding Shenghuo had left him. Electricity coursed through his veins, paralyzing his limbs. He twitched and writhed in pain. 

An arm's length away from him, he discovered openings in the ground. Instinctively, he reached for his necklace. It was gone. His breathing quickened. The oxygen content in the room was steadily decreasing. The more hastily he breathed, the faster he ran out of air. 

This isn't real, a quiet voice said in his head. Not real. He closed his eyes. Concentrated on the mantra. It was just an illusion, an illusion. So why did it feel so deceptively real? He could hardly breathe and the pressure in his head was about to explode. He clung to his mantra like a drowning man. 

It only helped to a limited extent. Someone called out to him. Captain Luo? The voice became clearer. His field of vision changed. He was back in his apartment. Someone pressed him against the band. Something cold closed around his wrists. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw police officers confiscating the paintings in his apartment. That had never happened. Absurd. 

Strangely, the pain had disappeared completely. He could also see his surroundings clearly. Tasted the air, heard the voices. “That was Ding Shenghuo. You must look for him. He was here. He left the painting behind,” he whispered. 

“Don't try to talk your way out of it. What were you up to with all those forgeries?” Captain Luo's voice sounded so hard and cold. No. This was wrong. Everything here. Never happened. Luo Jian trusted him. He would never falsely accuse him of committing a crime. 

He went downstairs with the policemen without saying anything back. The illusion continued. Wenjie bit his tongue as Captain Luo pushed him into the back seat of the police car. The scenario did not change. He leaned back and closed his eyes. That didn't do anything either. This isn't really happening, he told himself.

The car stopped in front of the police office. Captain Luo got out, opened the rear car door and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Wenjie got out, his eyes fixed on the ground. He couldn't look at him. Otherwise the wrong images would be burned into his memory. This was not the Luo Jian he knew. This was a mirage meant to confuse his mind. So why didn't the illusion shatter? 

Wenjie fought against the nightmare. To no avail. 

Captain Luo took him to an interrogation room. It was dark, cold and somehow run-down. As if the room had not been used for a very long time. The chair he was allowed to sit on was hard and uncomfortable. 

Luo Jian stood next to him. 

Wenjie raised his eyes cautiously. Don't do it, whispered the voice in the back of his head. Too late. The contempt in the policeman's eyes was like thousands of needles all pricking his skin at the same time. He immediately regretted looking at him. That look was worse than anything Xu Zhengqing had ever done to him before. The disappointment, the rejection. It tore a wound in his soul. 

to be continued ...