Chapter 87

There was no brain injury causing a splitting headache, nor was there any mental decline from drinking to sleep.

But it could not be denied that Buck still suffered from quite serious post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

He himself was a military doctor, responsible for the psychological regulation of his fellow soldiers, so he was more aware than anyone of the dangers and treatment procedures of such mental illnesses, the inevitable troubles of a person who has experienced prolonged slaughter, bloodshed, and death when they return to normal society.

Even his choice to serve as a military doctor amidst the rain of bullets and shells came from the initial slaughter he faced when he first picked up a rifle and stepped onto the mercenary battlefield, a slaughter that left him somewhat bewildered and overwhelmed.

In the animal world, most fierce birds and beasts do not attack their own kind, and killing is not an easy thing for humans either. Except during times of war, most people would not have such experiences. The act of taking a life, the sensation of a blade piercing flesh, the explosion of a bullet through a skull, and the sight of blood gushing from a chest would cause many to suffer mental breakdowns.

When Zhou Xiaoli defended herself with a knife, her mindset was similar to that of most urban criminals, driven by passion. This was fundamentally different from the calculated killings on the battlefield.

Moreover, Zhou Xiaoli was already in a semi-comatose state, with her emotions and nerves beyond her control, so she did not leave a deep impression in her mind. Upon waking, she had no more psychological trauma than the bloodstains. Of course, Buck's timely intervention helped her shift her focus, which is why he insisted on finding her mother to accompany her, and later even provided his newly purchased house for them to live in. Under such emotional conditions, a slight misstep could easily turn the killing intent into a violent spirit, leading a person down a dark path.

Buck could never forget the first person to fall before his gun, a fellow civilian-dressed Eastern European gunman in that extremely complex region of the Caucasus, where a river or a mountain could be a hotspot for ethnic conflicts, with political forces stirring up and planning behind the scenes. The conflicts there erupted almost daily, where farmers could put down their guns and pick them up again, a true reflection of those regions.

One could say that for seven whole years, Buck dared not return home because he knew what he had become.

He could only continue to hide in the familiar company, surrounded by fellow mercenaries, to live a normal life. This was the same reason why many ruthless soldiers preferred to stay in the military camp for life, as they no longer trusted the outside world. Originally, Buck had planned to settle down and start a family there, and only returned to his homeland to bring his parents back after getting used to life outside the battlefield.

The repeated re-experiencing of the battlefield, the subconscious avoidance of familiar scenes, and the unconscious hyper-vigilance triggered by many small details are the standard three symptoms of PTSD.

So when the final incident occurred, unable to return to the company and unable to imagine returning to his original environment, Buck chose a long walk, hoping that this ascetic behavior would help alleviate his symptoms.

But from the perspective of the Mo Chenfei kidnapping case, it was clear that he had merely suppressed those emotions. Once triggered by certain environments, he would react intensely, possibly even against society, much like the retired soldier Rambo in "First Blood." So Buck instinctively avoided the police, wanting only a peaceful life.

Zhou Xiaoli represented that peaceful life.

The dark-skinned girl entered his world of treatment with her warm and fierce presence. Even Buck voluntarily recalled his past hobbies and faced his avoidance by engaging in home renovations, all because of Zhou Xiaoli. This had nothing to do with the length or depth of their acquaintance. Compared to Fang Lingying, who was more compatible in their interactions, and Mo Chenfei, whose conditions far exceeded hers, only this girl brought him such courage. At least Buck felt that he now had the possibility of trying love without harming this kind and gentle girl, which might help treat his mental illness.

A man who often acted as a killer in various roles, a military doctor who decided life and death in the blink of an eye, Buck felt that he was somewhat schizophrenic, unable to distinguish which moments were real and which were just playing the role he should.

A filial son, an outgoing older brother, a silent friend, a passionate quasi-lover—Zhou Xiaoli found herself somewhat at a loss, and Fang Lingying noticed his many changes, all stemming from this... well, mental illness.

In a sense, Buck was a mental patient.

A patient in the process of self-adjustment and self-repair, he even dared not be sure if he would invest his emotions in this kind and gentle girl, as the pain of losing love was the most severe re-experience of trauma. Perhaps he subconsciously used love as a measure to see if he had escaped his nightmare?

So Buck treated Zhou Xiaoli with a bit of indulgence: "Then let's buy some cotton candy... When are you going to dye your hair chestnut?"

The girl could already sneer: "Why do you think chestnut suits me?"

Buck feigned ignorance: "I really studied abroad and saw many women with different hair colors. It suits you. My mother must have bragged about my studying at a wildcat university to you."

Zhou Xiaoli gave him a sidelong glance, completely skeptical of his words, and hummed: "We'll see. Now I think there are many things worth examining."

Buck tried to be more attentive: "Do you want to eat some barbecue? We can go back to our area, my brother runs a place."

The black girl didn't take the bait: "Alright, alright. Let's go back, Mom is waiting." The mention of their mothers and the shared home, a bit of an ambiguous shared space, made the girl's face finally show a hint of a smile.

Buck naturally complied.

But after the motorcycle nimbly returned to the neighborhood and parked in the garage, as they rode the elevator from the garage, Zhou Xiaoli, leaning against the elevator and watching the floor numbers flash, suddenly turned her head: "Let's go hiking this weekend?"

Buck felt almost grateful: "Sure! Why? Do you like hiking?"

Zhou Xiaoli's face showed no smile as she turned to the two helmets Buck was carrying, carefully feeling the gap in the lock of the black helmet and pulling out a long strand of hair!

"Whose hair is this?"

Just as Buck was about to explain, Zhou Xiaoli waved her hand: "No matter the reason, another woman wearing your helmet is not something to be happy about."

The elevator dinged, and Zhou Xiaoli walked out with the sword lily. Buck felt a cold sweat on his back, but his somewhat fatigued body had no reaction to such a small stimulus!

Sigh, a patient.

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