Angel's guess was not unfounded.
Along the way, he had seen far too many patients who had undergone secondary mutations. Moreover, everyone leaving Beverly Care Center had to undergo a dermatological examination. That was clearly another warning sign.
Angel hesitated for a moment before shifting his god's-eye view to the basement level of the care center.
This floor housed the passage room.
In other words, the morgue.
Inside the passage room, Angel saw nearly a hundred corpses covered in white sheets. When he had previously scanned the place with his god's-eye view, he had not looked beneath those sheets.
Now that he examined them closely—
Every single corpse was a mutant who had undergone at least a secondary mutation.
Their skin had all ulcerated, and an unknown green fluid continuously seeped out, staining the corpse-covering white sheets with speckles of mold.
Moreover, in the mere few minutes Angel had been watching, a large number of staff members had already pushed corpse carts in through the door.
Even for a hospital, such a massive number of deaths was definitely abnormal.
It seemed the viral load in the air had already reached some kind of limit.
Perhaps when the two-and-a-half-hour countdown ended, that would be the instant the bowstring snapped...
As Angel pondered this, footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. Judging from their rapid, overlapping rhythm, the visitor seemed to be in a great hurry.
Several seconds later, a doctor in a white coat strode briskly into the director's office.
Half-running, he called out in a low voice, "Director, something's wrong!"
Connors, who had been bent over his work the entire time, finally raised his head.
He did not see the invisible Angel beside him. Instead, he stared directly at the newcomer...
Wolfgang Schneider, head physician of Dermatology.
At the sight of