Abandoned Hospital

The next morning, a somber atmosphere filled the hospital. The candidates gathered again in the activity room, exchanging information from the previous night, their voices hushed.

"Last night... that thing outside almost rammed the door apart!" A female candidate who had chosen not to leave the house said, pale and still shaken. "Rule three, lock the door, it might really be a life-saving rule!"

"Those of us who went out almost didn't come back!" A man with an injured arm spat. "That ghostly mist, and those dark figures... Li Laosi perished in there! And," he lowered his voice, "I fed my patient that 'nutrient solution,' but after he drank it, he became even more listless, like his soul had been ripped out!"

"Me too," another person leaving chimed in. "That thing is definitely suspicious! Rule Four is absolutely a trap!"

Everyone's eyes involuntarily turned to Shi Mo, one of the few who successfully made the round trip unharmed.

Ignoring the stares, Shi Mo said to Hong Yuan and You Ying, "The contradiction between Rule Three and Rule Four leans towards Rule Three being about protection, while Rule Four is about selection or consumption. It's best not to use that 'nutrient solution'."

Hongyuan nodded solemnly: "It seems we can't take any more risks tonight."

Shi Mo added, "Also, I saw the red patient gown mentioned in Rule Seven yesterday."

Everyone was startled.

"Did you report to the head nurse?" Shadow asked immediately.

"I've reported it," Shi Mo said calmly. "She only said 'I understand,' without taking any action. The authenticity of Rule Seven is questionable."

This news only added to the confusion. Which rules are true, and which are false?

During the afternoon activities, Shi Mo began to purposefully "communicate" with some patients who seemed to be more conscious. He did not use "weak hypnosis," but relied on a calm attitude and occasionally handed them a harmless fruit candy (not a duplicate item) from the system space.

Shi Mo sat silently for a while next to a middle-aged female patient with relatively clear eyes, then handed her a piece of candy. The woman hesitated before taking it, and whispered, "...The money...is all gone...The house was sold...but it's no use..."

On the other side, an old man, muttering to himself, shed tears from his cloudy eyes after Shi Mo handed him a glass of water: "...My son... doesn't want me anymore... says he can't afford it..."

"...Wait to die...wait to die right here..." A suppressed sob came from another corner.

Fragmented words piece together a chilling picture: exorbitant medical costs, families financially ruined, and... abandoned patients.

Just then, a roar and a short scream came from not far away!

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a hot-tempered male candidate yelling at the slow-moving patient he was in charge of: "Damn it! Why are you taking so long to take your medicine! Hurry up! I don't have time to waste with you!" As he spoke, he roughly pried open the patient's mouth and was about to shove the pill in.

Rule Six: [Patients may sometimes make unreasonable demands; please be patient and try your best to meet their needs.]

Clearly, he had lost patience.

In the instant his rough movements occurred, the previously listless patient suddenly raised his head, his eyes instantly turned black, his mouth split open, revealing a dense array of sharp teeth, and he let out an inhuman roar.

It pounced with incredible speed and, under the male candidate's horrified gaze, bit through his throat.

Blood splattered, and the surrounding patients and candidates were so frightened that they backed away.

Rule Six: It must be tested in the bloodiest way possible—you must be patient!

The number of survivors has decreased to 18. The atmosphere has become even more somber.

Night fell again. Having learned from the previous experience, almost everyone decided to strictly abide by rule number three: lock themselves in and not go out at night.

But Shi Mo is an exception.

At midnight, as the clock struck midnight, he silently opened the door to room 301 once again. The black fog outside was still there, but this time his target was not the nurses' station, but the west corridor, which was explicitly prohibited by Rule Five.

He evaded the patrolling shadows and the omnipresent mental interference, moving like a ghost through the main corridor to the fork in the road leading to the west. A rusty "No Entry" sign hung crookedly.

Ignoring the warnings, Shi Mo stepped inside.

The west corridor was even more dilapidated, covered in dust, and many room doors were rotten and warped. He continued deeper into the corridor and at its end, he found a room with a faded nameplate but an unexpectedly sturdy lock. With a little force, he broke the rusted lock.

Pushing open the door, a strong smell of old paper and dust hit me.

The room was filled with scattered documents and filing cabinets.

By the dim moonlight outside the window, Shi Mo could make out the contents of the documents—a thick stack of medical expense overdue notices, and... many drafts of "Consent to Forgo Treatment" with messy handwriting but bearing bright red handprints.

[Patient XXX, due to the critical nature of their condition and the high cost of treatment, has voluntarily opted to forgo further treatment after discussion with their family...]

[Unable to afford the medical expenses, the family requests that all measures to maintain vital signs be stopped...]

The cold, hard words reveal one of the cruelest truths about this abandoned hospital.

The so-called "cause of illness" may not only be physiological, but also the despair and resentment born from the cruel choices between humanity and reality.

Shi Mo put away a few of the most representative receipts, quietly left the finance office, and returned to ward 301 as if he had never been there.

The core truth has begun to surface. The ultimate mission of this B-level instance—"find the cause or cure"—seems inextricably linked to these abandoned souls and cold bills.