No. 01 stood motionless in the oppressively scarlet corridor, his frame gaunt. He neither grew hysterical nor went mad over his defeat. He merely smiled helplessly.
"Heh, the Dean?"
"He really is a monster. At my old hospital, I encountered all sorts of leading figures in psychiatry and saw countless patients with deeply rooted illnesses, but I never saw anyone with his air of madness."
"I accept losing to him."
Director He looked down at him. "Since you know how terrifying the Dean is, why are you still so eager to throw your lives away?"
"We just don't want to spend all eternity as someone else's dog, like you." No. 01's smile grew somewhat wild as he stared contemptuously at Director He. "That psychological defense mechanism you talk about-is it just planting the Dean's curse in your own heart?"
Director He's expression turned cold at those words.
"How did you know... never mind. After tonight, none of that will matter."
"No. 01, how can you still be speaking? Have you forgotten? You've long been a dead man!"
He spoke in a deep voice.
As his words fell,
the bloody shadows in the corridor instantly darkened. Human hands reached out from the floor tiles, walls, and ceiling, attacking No. 01 with all manner of weapons. A blade pierced the crown of his head, a hammer shattered his lower leg, and all kinds of horrific acts of slaughter were completed in an instant.
No. 01 did not resist.
Because he knew that, against one of the Hospital Ward's strongest blood-clad ghosts, once his only plan with any chance of turning the tables failed, he had already lost everything.
He was soon dismembered, his limbs scattered across the floor.
At this sight,
No. 02, the only patient remaining, stared with his eyes wide