If one dared to assume the worst, and the situation before him really was being deliberately misrepresented, then what could the purpose be?
Fu Qian, making his third visit to the laboratory, had asked a rather profound question about a detail that should have been overlooked.
In fact, as soon as he asked it, an answer—not quite an answer—had already surfaced in his mind.
As he'd said before, a mission that should have involved the supernatural but didn't was likely hiding a brewing, colossal crisis...
As he pondered, Fu Qian lightly tapped the safe with his fingers.
And sure enough, a few seconds later, the sound of frenzied scratching rang out.
There you are.
Without hesitation, Fu Qian casually worked the safe's lock.
A low whimper sounded.
Disturbed, Henry was clearly in a foul mood. He darted out as soon as the door cracked open, only to be firmly grabbed by the neck.
"Hello there."
Smiling, Fu Qian expertly lifted the cat in his hand. The Mad Cat Gunner had made his entrance once more.
It seemed that although Oliver had locked Henry in here again, he hadn't come to visit him.
And that had earned Oliver a bullet to the head.
Was this what happened when you didn't take care of your pets?
Henry also made one thing clear: in this ever-shifting space-time, living things were apparently the only constants.
Whenever the colors changed, Henry went straight to where he was supposed to be, like an actor constantly moving between sets.
By contrast, the death-row inmate had carefully put away the three-colored medicine. In theory, if he waited through a few more cycles, he could get as much as he wanted.
As long as he was still alive.
Keeping the same rhythm, Fu Qian tapped Henry on the head.