Many people always felt that hospitals were especially gloomy at night. Aside from the countless horror stories about hospitals accumulated throughout human history, even the colors that brought peace and relaxation during the day inevitably seemed eerie and cold at night.
The white, blue, gray, and other tones used by most hospitals were meant not to overstimulate patients' vision, but under darkness and cool-toned lighting, they inevitably brought to mind the deaths that were far more numerous than recoveries.
Batman walked down such a cold corridor. Every recessed doorway was like a mouth waiting to devour someone. Batman would not make such an association, but he could not help deducing what had happened in every ward.
The mat outside the first ward on the left was crooked, one corner folded over and still not flattened out. Judging by the marks in the gaps between the floor tiles, a struggle had taken place here during the day. The participants were likely an episode-stricken patient and two nurses.
The doorframe of the third ward on the right had been struck. It looked as though someone carrying an IV stand had failed to notice it while passing through and accidentally knocked it against the wooden frame, leaving a mark. There might be a patient here who, aside from mental illness, also had some chronic condition requiring regular infusions.
Batman walked onward step by step. Countless pieces of information were gathered in his mind, categorized and filed away, gradually reconstructing the bustle of life that had filled this corridor during the day.
Patients came and went while medical staff moved among them. Batman sidestepped the staff struggling with an episode-stricken patient, dodged vomit that had just landed at his feet, and had barely brushed past a patient dragging an IV stand when he heard