"Damn it!"
The moment he saw the tall, thin man's head fall off, White Wolf's heart skipped a beat. Without the slightest hesitation, he pulled open the iron door and darted out.
But by the time he rushed out, it was already too late.
He did not know where outside the door led, and the bone-piercing cold in the air did not matter. What mattered was that he discovered his own neck had developed the same unbalanced sensation, as though it could no longer support his head.
His whole body began to sway. Amid his unsteady steps, his head grew heavier and heavier, as if it could fall off at any moment.
Faced with this, White Wolf's thoughts were not hindered. In a flash, he made a bold move—he rushed back into the maintenance room.
Bang!
As the iron door closed again, White Wolf faced the tall, thin man. One had a head about to fall off, while the other was headless yet still counting.
White Wolf steadied himself, forcing his body not to tremble. He pressed both hands against the sides of his head to support it.
No one had likely experienced the feeling of discovering that their head was about to fall off while they were still alive. Naturally, there was no way to describe White Wolf's state of mind at that moment.
But all his attention settled on the tall, thin man, because amid the panic and urgency, he had just realized something.
Though the tall, thin man's appearance had changed, his identity was precisely that of the host the staff had been desperately searching for.
White Wolf did not know what this living dead was doing or why its head had fallen off, but he understood one thing—if he left this place, he would certainly die.