Many cars were parked in the gloomy underground garage, their models varying widely, from vintage cars decades old to new-energy vehicles from recent years.
At different times.
Patients had boarded these vehicles under the guidance or control of their medical records and arrived at this same place.
The garage was dimly lit. Two doctors whispered a few words to each other, and one of them went to the garage exit. Outside lay a heavy blanket of darkness, so black that he truly could not see his hand in front of his face.
Approaching it brought an instinctive fear, as though some monster lurked in the darkness.
Even this doctor frowned. He first reached out cautiously to test it, and dense masses of insect-like things immediately crawled onto his hand from the darkness.
But when the death curse unique to the hospital ward surfaced on his body, those things quickly retreated.
Only then did the doctor breathe a sigh of relief and carefully step into the darkness. He had to go to the intersection outside and confirm that no more vehicles were coming before he could shut the garage doors.
This was a requirement in the ward's employee handbook.
The other doctor, a middle-aged man, carried a sprayer on his back and held its wand as he began inspecting each vehicle. He had to make sure nothing was hiding in the garage before he left.
Just then, the elevator came down.
The doctor inspecting the garage paid it little attention and continued checking. But when he heard the clattering of a gurney, he looked over in confusion. "Dr. Zheng, have you forgotten the procedure? Once you've delivered a patient, you have to push the gurney to the disinfection room."
"After disinfection, someone will send it down to us through the chute