Su Chenghe felt as though he had been caught in a vast dream.
In that dream, he returned to the Fifth Manager Mission, to the horrific ordeal orchestrated by two versions of himself, which had nearly cost him his life.
A sharp Bone-Chilling Dagger sliced through his skin inch by inch, its edge gleaming coldly. He felt the blood inside him pouring out.
The rigid stretcher dug painfully into his back, but the chill of blood loss had long since been buried beneath the negative emotions of those who had died on this bed.
Back then, Su Chenghe had even forgotten who he was. All he could feel was the cold menace of death, slowly eating away at his entire body and mind.
In the dream.
When he found himself lying on that bed on the sixteenth floor again, he realized that he was just as helpless and terrified now as he had been then.
Eight abdominal restraints pinned his entire body in place. Their pressure made him so stiff that his body spasmed unnaturally.
Blood dripped steadily. He could not tell where the hole in his body was, nor could he sense which part of him the Bone-Chilling Dagger on his body had cut open.
All he felt was his warmth slowly fading and an overwhelming suffocation.
Amid the dripping of blood, Su Chenghe lay on the bed and saw a figure in a white coat slowly approaching him.
Not just one. A succession of footsteps came from every direction, one after another.
An unknown number of figures crowded into his field of vision. All he knew was that they wore white, like doctors who had come to treat him. But this was no hospital.
This stretcher held no patient, but an ingredient.
Su Chenghe was that ingredient. Those