Will twisted aside to dodge a blow, elbowed open the door in the corner, and fled deeper into the basement.
Along the way, light bulbs flicked on one after another as though guided by fate. Physical therapy room, psychiatric assessment room, intensive observation room-rotting departmental signs with peeling paint flashed through his peripheral vision.
The basement of Peace New Hospital had once housed patients with severe mental illnesses. Even if Qin Wei had not known that before, these clues were enough to draw that conclusion.
Then a plan for dealing with the mass-produced mechs took shape in his mind.
"Where is it-MRI-"
He kept sprinting, muttering under his breath.
His persistence paid off: the words "MRI room" came into view at the end of the corridor.
But Will did not enter right away. Instead, he turned left into the next corridor.
His plan needed preparation time. Before that, he had to slow the mechs racing after him.
This corridor was long and free of obstacles. After scanning the suitable terrain, the mechs behind him raised their wrists in unison.
"Activate ranged firepower mode!"
After a series of unnerving mechanical noises, tracking-missile launch bays sprang from all three mechs' forearms. Awkwardly, two were empty, while the missile mounted in the third was covered in rust.
Did that thing even work anymore?
As it turned out, it did not. When the command to fire sounded, the limp warhead behaved like an old man's morning piss: after all that straining, it merely dribbled onto its feet.
And Qin Wei?
He had not sat around waiting to die.
In fact, the moment he heard the words "ranged firepower," he spun around, halting his forward momentum.
Yes, whether those missiles were duds or not, continuing forward was not a wise choice.
Batman would not pin