Chapter 20: The Critical Care Ward
The moment the liquid monster mentioned Treatment Room No. 2, Su Qiong finally remembered!
The monster before him was the doctor who had broken several of A’s ribs, injected purple medication into his body, and acted viciously despite being terrified of ghosts.
The monster’s two eyes trembled violently. Across the surface of its body, thick, mucus-like bubbles swelled like molten lava erupting from a volcano.
Inside its fried-egg-shaped eye socket, which contained two pupils, one eyeball rotated clockwise while the other spun counterclockwise, clearly demonstrating the full extent of its fury.
“You’re not dead?”
“You deceived me! You actually deceived me!”
Terrified, Su Qiong retreated several more steps and timidly hid beside A.
The liquid monster pushed open the director’s office door and squeezed more of its body inside.
Its two rapidly spinning eyeballs traced increasingly wider circles until they slammed heavily into each other.
With his sensitive hearing, Su Qiong heard a wet splat, like an egg yolk being punctured.
One eyeball instantly burst. Specks of lens fluid sprayed outward and smeared across the director’s office door.
The other eyeball retained a vague shape, but it had also shattered into several pieces. Each fragment bulged outward, staring fixedly at Su Qiong.
A conspicuous patch of pure white was reflected in those cloudy pupils.
Poor Su Qiong. Even after disabling his vision, he could still sense the fragmented gaze through fluctuations in the surrounding presence.
“Stop looking at me.”
Su Qiong nearly cried.
He would rather the system release the most terrifying ghost or the most powerful red-name NPC.
Su Qiong was not afraid of the supernatural, nor did threats or intimidation frighten him.
In the Gangan Village instance, Su Qiong had always been the most mentally stable one. Even the resentful spirits had failed to scare him.
But the Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital instance struck precisely at Su Qiong’s greatest weakness—
Filth.
The pitch-black, foul-smelling semiliquid could splash everywhere if handled carelessly.
Help! It was far too dirty!
Su Qiong was a clean freak. If even the smallest speck of filth touched him, he would be disgusted with himself to death.
“Shh. Be quiet.” A shifted his body and completely shielded Su Qiong behind him, signaling for him to lower his voice.
Through the open doorway, he could see many more liquid monsters behind the doctor, flowing across the walls and floors.
Based on his experience over the past two nights, A knew that the liquid monsters had poor perception and no specific targets they actively pursued.
Simply put, as long as they hid and remained silent, the other monsters would not initiate an attack.
The problem was the “doctor” before them.
The doctor had clearly noticed Su Qiong and hated him intensely.
“A, what do we do now?” Su Qiong covered his face and whispered.
Within an instance, mimicry NPCs had no levels or special abilities.
Their combat strength primarily came from whatever power the instance NPC granted them.
In the Gangan Village instance, the instance NPC Li Ting deeply despised the mimicry NPCs. She had given them no additional combat power, instead granting her abilities to the tens of thousands of resentful spirits across the river.
Furthermore, Li Ting was an NPC from Instance One, so her level was relatively low—approximately Level 20. Even if she had been willing to distribute her power, the mimicry NPCs would not have received much of an enhancement.
Mr. S of the Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital instance was different.
He was a higher level than Li Ting.
According to IF’s leveling system, even a one-level difference granted an overwhelming advantage, much less the full ten levels separating Mr. S and Li Ting.
And judging by Mr. S’s half-dead condition…
His abilities had probably already been drained dry by the instance world and transferred entirely into the mimicry NPCs occupying the hospital.
“Don’t be afraid,” A comforted Su Qiong, though even he lacked confidence.
Since the instance opened, the number of monsters had increased every day. As time passed, their mutations became increasingly severe, and their combat power continued rising.
Under normal circumstances, A would not have taken them seriously. He could kill thousands or even tens of thousands in one night.
But he was injured now.
His countdown showed only a little over an hour remaining. His body was barely capable of standing, his vision repeatedly blurred, and he had no strength to deal with so many monsters.
“It’s coming!” Su Qiong shrank farther behind A, nearly panicking.
Strictly speaking, it was not “lunging” toward them.
It was surging toward them like a current.
The furious doctor squeezed its entire body into the director’s office. Its previously severed hand and burst eyeball were both reabsorbed into its liquid form.
Wherever the liquid passed, it left filthy, wet trails resembling snail slime.
Su Qiong could hardly imagine that thing crawling across his body…
Disgusting!
“Su Qiong,” A called.
“Huh?” Suppressing his fear, Su Qiong poked his head out from behind him. “I’m here.”
“Can you help me control the direction?” A’s bloodless hand reached toward the chain around his waist.
The instant he removed it, the chain transformed into the silver sword Su Qiong had first seen.
Moonlight reflected from the blade, whose edge seemed capable of splitting heaven and earth.
“My hands are trembling. I can’t aim properly.”
“I can do that.” Su Qiong might lack other abilities, but his bandages were practically divine tools when used for restraint and guidance.
“But will you… be all right?” Su Qiong tilted his head and looked at the countdown above A.
A’s body was extremely weak. Forcing himself to use an ability would inevitably accelerate his death.
A paid it no attention. He gripped the sword hilt with both hands and said casually, “I won’t die immediately.”
Su Qiong was speechless.
—He was literally burning his life away.
“It’s here!” A warned him.
Su Qiong had no time to think further. He immediately extended a bandage, wrapping it around the sword and A’s hand to help aim at the monster’s vital point.
“You want to die, don’t you? I know you want to die.” The doctor dragged its entire body across the floor and rapidly crawled toward Su Qiong, its voice even more sinister than during the day.
“I’ll grant your wish. Hee-hee. Hee-hee. Hee-hee-hee.”
The mocking laughter echoed throughout the director’s office, stabbing painfully into their eardrums.
“Right there!” Su Qiong called out.
“All right.” A swung the sword down with force.
In the moonlight, the blade struck the doctor heavily, landing precisely on the narrower portion between its main torso and head.
The sword’s edge carried a chilling murderous force as it severed the section of its body containing the eyes.
“Ahhh—!”
Before the doctor could touch Su Qiong, its body recoiled, releasing an agonized scream.
Su Qiong nervously inspected the floor and cautiously asked, “Is it dead?”
“Mm. It should be.” A had killed countless monsters and understood their weaknesses exceptionally well. Severing the neck should guarantee death.
“Wow!” Although Su Qiong did not breathe, he released a long sigh of relief. “That was terrifying. Fortunately, it didn’t dirty my bandages.”
Su Qiong patted his chest solemnly, then looked again at the countdown above A’s head.
“You’ve lost another five minutes. We should…” hurry to the Critical Care Ward.
Before Su Qiong could finish, a third voice inside the room abruptly interrupted him.
“Hee-hee. Who did you say was dead?”
The monster sprawled across the floor had already had its “head” severed, yet its body began writhing again.
“It hurts. It hurts so much. Do you know how much pain I’m in?” It extended a “hand,” retrieved the fragment containing its eyes, and slowly pressed it into its stomach.
“How is that possible?!” Su Qiong was shocked.
No matter how much a mimicry NPC evolved, it could not return from the dead.
Unless it had never died at all!
“Hee-hee. Guess where my neck is. Where~ could~ it~ be~?” The doctor released another infuriating, mocking laugh.
“I originally planned to fulfill your wish and kill you.”
“But I’ve changed my mind. Hee-hee.”
After pressing the fragment into its stomach, the monster seemed to instantly complete another evolution. Its flowing speed became even faster.
The thick, filthy liquid surged toward Su Qiong all at once. Long tendrils extended from its edges, attempting to grab his bandages.
“Stay away from me!” Su Qiong floated upward in terror. The entire marshmallow leaped onto A’s sword, barely avoiding it.
After becoming liquefied, the monsters had lost the support of their skeletons and could move only along floors or walls.
As long as Su Qiong remained somewhere high, he should be able to avoid—
Before Su Qiong could celebrate, the doctor’s extended “hand” suddenly began lengthening without limit, advancing directly toward him.
The distance between them rapidly narrowed. Su Qiong was nearly overwhelmed by the foul stench coming from its body.
“Its mutation has intensified.” A moved the sword away in time, preventing the doctor from touching Su Qiong, while his brows drew tightly together.
The monsters mutated rapidly, seemingly without any upper limit.
A single one inside the director’s office had already exhausted them. There were still thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—outside.
If killing one consumed five minutes of his remaining life, A seriously doubted whether he would survive long enough to enter the Critical Care Ward.
“This is bad.”
The doctor attacked too frequently. Su Qiong dodged miserably, without even enough time to speak.
In despair, he wondered just how terrifying A had been at full strength for the system to deploy such a difficult instance against him.
“You’re afraid of me. Hee-hee, you’re afraid of me!”
The doctor seemed to discover something entertaining. It deliberately extended even more “hands,” forcing Su Qiong to dodge everywhere.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you die. Hee-hee.” Deliberately tormenting Su Qiong, the doctor spoke words of utter horror. “I’ll keep you alive for a very long time—just like me.”
Seeing Su Qiong’s clean, pure-white body filled the doctor with inexplicable fury.
Once, it too had possessed a pure-white appearance.
When had that been?
The doctor’s memories were incomplete. It remembered only that it had been a very, very long time ago.
A previous life, or the life before that, perhaps even longer.
The present doctor remembered only what its seniors had told it after it arrived at Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital.
—White things were born to be stained.
“I’m going to dirty you, then turn you into something like me—filthy, foul, and reeking!” The doctor’s smile became even more unrestrained. At the same time, its entire liquid body changed again, seemingly preparing to stand upright.
“I don’t want that!” Su Qiong fiercely rejected such an outcome.
The bandage restraining and guiding the sword moved instinctively, swinging the weapon toward the monstrous doctor of its own accord.
In an instant, the air fell silent.
The monster froze. Its two shattered eyeballs widened, its distorted expression filled with disbelief as its body slowly collapsed.
Before touching the ground, its form flickered indistinctly twice and completely disappeared from the instance.
Every trace it had left behind vanished as well, restoring the director’s office to cleanliness.
Su Qiong carefully checked every corner. Only after confirming that the monster would not reappear did he cautiously descend to the floor.
“Sorry. I used your ability without permission.” Su Qiong raised his face and apologized softly to A, only to discover something surprising. “Huh? Your countdown didn’t decrease.”
“I didn’t use any ability just now,” A explained.
His body had expended no energy, so naturally, the countdown had not shortened.
Therefore—
The monstrous doctor had been killed by Su Qiong.
A lowered his gaze and stared at the level displayed by the system.
[NPC—White Name]Su Qiong
[Level]1
The suspicion in his heart deepened.
—Why was Su Qiong only Level 1?
Still shaken, Su Qiong had no time to think about it further before system notifications sounded beside his ears.
[System: Congratulations to Player A for defeating a low-level NPC. Points +200.]
[System: Congratulations to Su Qiong for defeating a low-level NPC. Points +200.]
“It gave me points again.” Su Qiong was puzzled.
After clearing his previous instance, he had specifically sent the system feedback:
He was an NPC. Player points were useless to him.
He had assumed the main system would immediately fix the issue.
Instead, not only had it failed to do so, but Su Qiong now earned points like a player whenever he killed “someone” inside an instance.
What use did he have for so many player points?
“Su Qiong, what is a low-level NPC?” A asked.
Su Qiong tapped his bracelet and answered, “An NPC formed from the instance NPC’s abilities. They actively attack players and possess a certain degree of combat power. Under normal circumstances, low-level NPCs don’t appear in beginner-zone instances.”
Su Qiong put away his bracelet and told him seriously, “This instance really is targeting you.”
“I see.” A looked toward the open door of the director’s office. “We can’t leave for now.”
“…”
Su Qiong fell silent.
He understood what A meant.
The appearance of one low-level NPC in the Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital instance meant that the conditions for their emergence had been fulfilled. More low-level NPCs could appear.
Although the word “low” was part of their name, they possessed the awareness necessary to attack players actively.
The fact that killing one awarded ten times as many points as an ordinary NPC was enough to conclude that they were at least ten times stronger than mimicry NPCs.
A was severely injured, while Su Qiong had no offensive abilities.
What would they do if they encountered another low-level NPC on the way to the Critical Care Ward?
“We need to find their weakness,” A said.
“Their weakness…” Su Qiong searched his database and gave an answer. “A low-level NPC’s greatest weakness is its superior. As long as we kill Mr. S, all the low-level NPCs will disappear.”
A said nothing. His gaze clearly asked:
Do you think that’s possible?
Mr. S was seven full levels above A. Even without his injuries, A would struggle to kill him.
Otherwise, why would clearing the instance be such a problem?
In any instance, killing the instance NPC was one method of clearing it.
Realizing he had said something useless, Su Qiong added dryly, “Otherwise, we can only infer the NPCs’ weaknesses from the background of the instance’s story.”
“Can we?”
“Mm.” Su Qiong nodded seriously. “Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital is a realistic instance. Everything that happens inside it has a basis in reality.”
“Does that basis in reality include the monsters outside?”
“Uh…” Su Qiong suddenly became less certain.
Could flowing, liquefied humans actually exist in reality?
A attempted to organize the clues, but pain from every part of his body repeatedly disrupted his thoughts.
Wait.
Pain.
“Su Qiong,” A said gravely. “Do you remember the system notification? The damage I suffered was radiation damage.”
“I remember. Radiation damage can’t be healed, so we need to leave the instance as quickly as possible.” A sense of responsibility surged within Su Qiong, and he solemnly promised, “I’ll find a way!”
“That isn’t the point,” A said. “Besides being incurable, radiation damage can cause mutations and deformities in living organisms—even transform them into monsters.”
After several days of mutation, the doctors and patients inside the hospital increasingly resembled the slime monster they had encountered during the day.
Since the monster contained radioactive material, it was reasonable to assume that the liquid monsters also contained radioactive substances.
Every change in their bodies resulted from radiation damaging their cells and triggering biological mutations.
Reasonable.
Extremely reasonable.
A and Su Qiong simultaneously gained a new understanding of what constituted a “realistic instance.”
“If they’re radioactive organisms, what do you think they fear most?”
“Explosions!”
When Su Qiong entered the instance, he had watched a mimicry NPC explode like fireworks before his eyes.
For them, an explosion represented death.
“A, I have an idea!” Su Qiong’s voice rose slightly, sounding even sweeter.
Had he possessed eyes, they would undoubtedly have been sparkling.
For no apparent reason, A felt slightly regretful.
What an adorable little NPC.
It was a shame he had no body.
If Su Qiong had a human appearance, he would surely be exceptionally cute.
“What’s your idea?”
“First, turn on the director’s computer. Then…”
Three minutes later, Su Qiong puffed out his chest and floated proudly from the director’s office.
Outside, completely liquefied mimicry NPCs filled the entire corridor.
They crawled stickily across the floors, walls, and windows, leaving no corner untouched. They had transformed what should have been a clean and orderly hospital into a foul-smelling sewer.
Su Qiong was completely disgusted. He floated in midair the entire time, terrified that even the slightest speck of filth might touch him.
Fortunately, there were no low-level NPCs in the corridor capable of moving rapidly and actively attacking them like the monstrous doctor.
A cautiously avoided the liquid monsters on the floor and safely crossed the corridor. Following the old map’s directions, he reached the stairwell.
A moving arrow had appeared on the map’s surface, guiding them forward.
When A stopped at the stairs, the arrow stood upright, indicating that he should go up.
“Hiss.” Su Qiong made a frightened sound.
The corridor was relatively wide. Even though many liquid monsters roamed there, it was still barely possible to find an uncontaminated path.
The staircase was different.
Countless liquid monsters had gathered inside the narrow, congested stairwell, flowing up and down the steps.
Every stair, handrail, and wall within Su Qiong’s line of sight was covered in liquid monsters.
He could even hear their steady dripping. Several masses slowly crawled across the low ceiling, sagging downward while remaining connected by long, stringy trails.
Parts of their bodies fell onto other monsters and fused slightly, carried along by those climbing the stairs.
Their remaining halves still clung to the ceiling. The stretched portions between them tangled with other liquid monsters, forming an inescapable net.
Even if Su Qiong transformed himself into a single narrow strip, he would struggle to pass through the gaps and cleanly cross all twenty-seven steps.
The staircase leading upward had two sections.
Su Qiong had counted them during the day. The lower section contained thirteen steps, while the upper section had fourteen. Because the numbers were unusual, Su Qiong had secretly memorized them, thinking they might represent some romantic code.
Now he understood.
To hell with romance!
In Chinese, “1314” might sound like “for an entire lifetime,” but this staircase seemed more like “one life, one death”!
You were alive while climbing the first section and dead by the second.
“A.” Su Qiong tugged at A’s clothing. “Do you think our plan will work?”
A: ?
Su Qiong had invented the plan, yet only now was he asking A.
Where had all his earlier confidence gone?
“We have no way back.” A did not answer. Instead, he removed a rectangular object from his pocket.
It was the recorder they had found in the director’s office.
“We can only try.” Before pressing the switch, A instructed him, “If it has no effect, immediately hide inside the director’s office.”
“What will you do if I leave?”
“My level is high. They can’t kill me.” Despite his weakened state, A was still the second-ranked player on the leaderboard, a Level 24 expert.
Su Qiong remained worried.
It was true that ordinary NPCs could not kill A. They could only wear down a small amount of his health.
But there were so many NPCs inside the instance. If each consumed a little, they would eventually grind him to death.
Furthermore, A was seriously injured.
Even if the NPCs could not harm him, they needed only to delay him for two hours, and A would die inside the instance.
“My judgment has to be correct, so please work,” Su Qiong silently prayed.
A’s expression remained unchanged. Without the slightest hesitation, he pressed the recorder’s play button.
Boom—!
An enormous explosion thundered throughout the hospital.
At the same time, A activated an advanced bracelet ability and projected an image across the entire floor.
The entire stairwell became A’s projection screen. The surroundings transformed, leaving only devastated ruins before them.
Boom—!
Another explosion sounded.
This time, it was accompanied by thick smoke, dust, and a mushroom cloud.
Seeing the scene awakened a fear buried deep within the mimicry NPCs’ souls. One after another, they shrank into corners, terrified that they would be the next to explode.
A passage opened through the staircase that had only moments earlier been completely blocked.
On both sides, the liquid monsters piled on top of one another and compressed themselves into masses. None dared approach the central “explosion zone.”
“Did we succeed?” Su Qiong was overjoyed.
“Yes.” A praised him. “You’re truly impressive.”
“Praise me later. Hurry upstairs!” Su Qiong saw that the countdown above A’s head had only a little over ninety minutes remaining. They had to move quickly.
Fortunately, nothing obstructed their ascent.
The old map guided them to the third floor. Its arrow lay flat once more and pointed down the long corridor.
“The third floor again?” Seeing the familiar inpatient ward, Su Qiong developed an ominous feeling.
A’s left eyelid twitched.
Sure enough.
The arrow led them to the entrance of A’s room and stopped.
“Your room again!” Even Su Qiong, whose emotions were usually stable, could not avoid feeling resentful.
Both the first and second clues had been triggered in this room.
Had they known, they should have remained here and waited.
What had been the point of struggling through such a large circle and nearly being trapped by the monstrous doctor inside the director’s office?
Su Qiong muttered, “Don’t tell me the third clue is hidden here too.”
“Look carefully. Something is different,” A reminded him as he studied the map.
The arrow had indeed stopped outside the room, but it was not pointing toward A’s door.
Noticing the anomaly, Su Qiong held his breath and concentrated on the surrounding fluctuations. He immediately sensed something strange.
“A, look at the window!” Su Qiong pointed. “That’s the only window that doesn’t reflect light, and none of the mimicry NPCs approach it.”
“You’re right.” A once again realized that he had overlooked something.
Over the previous few days, he had been forced to remain in the inpatient ward for long periods during the daytime and believed he had searched it thoroughly.
Whenever night fell, he went to the other floors and never carefully investigated the windows.
He had actually noticed before that this particular pane did not reflect light, but he had not considered it further.
There were far too many strange things inside the instance. What significance could a nonreflective window possibly have?
At that moment, the arrow on the old map curved and pointed toward the glass.
A and Su Qiong looked over simultaneously.
During the day, Su Qiong had stuck his head through that window. He had even used it to collect sunlight and roast the slime monster.
Su Qiong was completely certain that the space beyond the window belonged outside Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital and therefore beyond the instance’s boundaries.
But now, the window opened.
Another hospital room appeared beyond it, with a layout identical to A’s original room.
Mr. S, who should have been wrapped in slime and lying near death on the bed, was instead sitting quietly at its edge.
A prepared to enter but discovered that the room contained nowhere to step.
Every inch of space was filled with experimental equipment whose names he could not identify.
A red warning sign was posted beside the entrance:
[Critical Care Ward]
[This patient’s condition is severe. He has lost his sanity and is extremely dangerous. Do not approach.]
Mr. S—or more accurately, the young S—sat silently for a long time, his empty eyes fixed on the tabletop.
Taking advantage of his convenient body, Su Qiong slipped through the narrow gaps and approached the boy.
He knew S was the instance NPC, but he was not afraid.
A’s bracelet had scanned Mr. S’s information, proving that the adult version was the instance NPC recognized by the system.
According to the rules, each instance could have only one main instance NPC.
Even if this young S was a past version of Mr. S, he possessed no ability to control the instance.
Furthermore, Su Qiong had entered the boy’s memories.
He had touched those memories and knew that S was not a dangerously insane lunatic who had “lost his reason.”
Su Qiong stopped before the boy. Seeing his pure-white body, S did not raise his head.
“Are you a doctor?” the boy asked.
Su Qiong did not answer.
Assuming his silence was confirmation, S continued, “When will I be discharged?”
“How long have you been hospitalized?”
The boy thought briefly before shaking his head in confusion. “Two years? Three? I can’t remember.”
“It’s been too long.” S asked woodenly, “Doctor, why haven’t you cured me?”
Su Qiong knew the reason perfectly well, but he could not answer.
Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital had never existed to cure patients.
S hugged himself helplessly and murmured, “I completed everything you told me to do. Why?”
At that point, his voice suddenly deepened.
“Or were you never planning to treat me at all?”
“Everything they told you to do?” Su Qiong immediately seized on those words. “What did they make you do?”
The boy did not answer. He merely looked around the room.
Su Qiong reexamined the instruments filling it, and inspiration suddenly struck.
According to the clues he had previously obtained, Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital conducted psychiatric evaluations on criminals, then claimed that they “suffered from a mental disorder and could not be held responsible for their actions,” allowing them to evade legal punishment.
Those capable of exploiting that privilege were usually wealthy or influential.
But the young S came from an entirely ordinary family and had never received help from anyone powerful. Why had he been admitted to Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital?
The answer was obvious.
Someone needed him.
They needed his abilities.
At five years old, S had independently observed the stars with extremely limited materials.
During elementary school, he could understand obscure and advanced academic papers.
By middle school, he was already capable of conducting research that could shock the world.
He had few social connections and had committed crimes. No one even knew that such a person existed.
S possessed every characteristic necessary to be exploited.
Therefore, the people behind the scenes arranged for him to enter Resthaven Psychiatric Hospital, forcing him to conduct research and record data day and night according to their needs.
As for the results of his research, they became the foundation upon which others built glorious reputations in academia.
“Doctor,” the boy called again.
The pale-faced teenager raised his head and silently pleaded for help.
“I’ll obey. I want to become normal. Please save me.”
After speaking, S paused, and his voice sank again.
“If you still can’t cure me, I won’t need any of you anymore.”
By the standards of a threat, the boy’s tone was not particularly forceful.
Yet Su Qiong felt a chill penetrate to his bones.
Threats from someone constantly shouting wild nonsense were not frightening.
The truly dangerous ones were people like this—always quiet, always enduring, their thoughts impossible to read.
Once such a person finally erupted, the consequences were unpredictable.
“I’m willing to try!” Su Qiong hurriedly stabilized the boy’s emotions. “First, tell me what illness you have.”
“I don’t know.” S looked at him blankly. “Doctor, you tell me. What illness do I have?”
How could Su Qiong possibly know?!
At that moment, the system’s third clue flashed through his mind:
The medical chart.
When the clue had been triggered, Su Qiong had been standing in the outpatient lobby, surrounded by patients holding medical charts.
He had assumed the system wanted them to investigate those patients’ charts. He had even silently complained about why the medical chart had been placed last and why the system warned that the clues had to be used in order.
So it had never meant stealing the patients’ charts!
Su Qiong could already imagine what would have happened without the additional warning.
Had he rushed over and stolen their charts, he would only have offended even more mimicry NPCs.
The liquid monsters blocking their door tonight would have included far more than the doctor.
“I’ll tell you!” Su Qiong promised. “I’ll find it right now and come back with the answer.”
The boy’s unfocused gaze briefly sharpened.
“All right.” He withdrew a hand hidden inside his sleeve and placed it on the table.
A strange device fell from his palm. It had two buttons.
A smiling face was drawn on the green button, while a crying face marked the red one.
“I’ll wait for you,” S said.
Although Su Qiong did not completely understand the situation, he vaguely realized that he seemed to have interrupted something.
“How is it inside?” A immediately asked when Su Qiong returned.
He had been unable to enter and could only observe through the narrow gaps. The boy’s voice was barely stronger than a breath, making it difficult for A to hear clearly.
Su Qiong briefly described the situation inside and concluded, “We have to find his medical chart quickly—before your countdown ends and before he presses one of those buttons.”
“All right. I know where the outpatient doctors store the medical charts. We’ll go to the first floor.”
Su Qiong was filled with resistance. “…We have to go downstairs again?”
A raised his gaze and calmly asked, “Would you rather remain here?”
Although the liquid monsters could not approach the boy’s room, they had already sensed Su Qiong’s presence and were gathering from every direction.
Their strangely shaped eyes stared hungrily at the pure-white bandages covering Su Qiong, drool pouring from their mouths.
Having lost his Mimicry Cloak, Su Qiong could no longer disguise himself. The monsters’ lingering gazes made him tremble.
Frail, pitiful, and somehow attracting hatred everywhere he went.
When A received no answer, he turned and began walking toward the stairs.
Then—
He felt a faint tug on his sleeve.
Trembling, Su Qiong clutched the corner of his clothing and said miserably, “I’m the guide NPC, so I’ve decided to accompany you downstairs.”
A chuckled softly.
Which of them was guiding the other?
