Abandoned Hospital

On the fifth day, the air inside the hospital seemed to have frozen into ice.

The number of survivors has dwindled, and those who remain not only have to contend with hunger, thirst, and the traps of the rules, but also endure immense mental pressure. Their eyes are filled with wariness, and the fragile alliance teeters on the brink of collapse under the threat of death.

Rule Ten, "Trust your patients; they are the only ones here who won't harm you," became a Damocles' sword hanging over everyone's head.

"Perhaps...the patient knows something?" Xiaoya, a female candidate whose mental state was not very stable, whispered to the elderly woman she was in charge of, who always seemed silent and tearful, and looked incredibly pitiful, clinging to her last hope. "Grandma, do you know how to leave here? We will all help you..."

The old woman simply wept silently, offering no response.

Another candidate, Old Cat, tried to get close to the timid little boy patient he was responsible for by offering him food (the last bit of compressed biscuits he had saved): "Don't be afraid, Uncle isn't a bad person. Tell Uncle, what's outside at night? How can I stay safe?"

The little boy flinched and whispered, "...There's an uncle in black outside...it's scary...I can't open the door..."

This information, which seemed to conform to Rules Two and Three, made Old Cat relax his guard slightly.

However, tragedy struck that very night.

Around midnight, outside the ward where Old Cat was staying, the little boy's heart-wrenching cries rang out: "Uncle! Help! There's an uncle in black trying to grab me! Open the door and let me in! Please!"

The sound was filled with extreme fear, heartbreaking.

Rule Ten echoed in his mind—"Trust your patients; they are the only ones here who won't harm you."

Rule three also warns – “Never open the door, no matter what sound you hear.”

Under extreme conflict and mental pressure, Old Cat looked at the "poor" child outside the door who kept banging on the door and crying out his name. In the end, his trust in Rule Ten (or rather, the last straw he grasped in despair) overwhelmed his reason.

"Don't be afraid! Uncle's here!" He suddenly turned the lock on the door!

The moment the door opened, the fear on the little boy's face instantly turned into resentment and a savage grin! His body swelled up as if inflated, his skin tore open, revealing a twisted black energy body beneath!

Behind it, in the thick black fog, several "medical personnel" dressed in black uniforms with rotting faces appeared, letting out greedy roars!

"No—!" The old cat only had time to let out a short, desperate scream before being dragged into the darkness outside the door by the mutated little boy and the black-clad medical staff. The sounds of chewing and bones breaking clearly echoed through the silent corridor.

Rule Ten has proven to be the most insidious and deadliest trap!

These patients, abandoned by their families and the world, harbor genuine resentment; they are filled with hatred for all that is "healthy" and "outside"! The so-called "trust" is nothing but poisoned bait, luring candidates to violate other life-saving rules!

The news spread like wildfire among the survivors, and the last vestiges of trust completely collapsed.

"If we can't even trust the sick, then who can we trust?!"

"They're all liars! Everything in this godforsaken place is fake!"

Despair and suspicion grew wildly like weeds.

Shi Mo watched all of this with a cold eye.

He had long harbored doubts about Rule Ten. The patients' resentment was genuine, but they were also victims of this cruel system. The root cause lay with the families who signed the do-not-treat consent forms, and with the life-devouring hospital itself.

"The crux of the problem lies in the Dean's office," Shi Mo said to the few remaining calm individuals—Hong Yuan, You Ying, the Doctor, and Ying. "Rule Eight mentions the need for 'special credentials.' The receipts from the finance office might just be the key."

"It's too dangerous!" Hong Yuan objected. "The Dean's office is on the fourth floor; that's definitely the most heavily guarded place!"

"Staying here is the same as waiting to die," Shi Mo said calmly. "Passive avoidance will never lead to a way out."

The doctor pondered for a moment: "I agree with Shi Mo's view. We must take the initiative. The documents from the finance department are very likely the key."

Shadow licked his dry lips: "Damn it, I'll risk it! It's better than being worn down to death!"

The decision has been made.

That night, as the clock struck midnight again, most of the candidates locked their doors tightly, barely daring to breathe, when Shi Mo's figure disappeared into the darkness of the corridor like a ghost.

He avoided the patrolling guards on the fixed routes, and with his agility of 12 and mental perception of 18, he moved silently through the shadows toward the connecting passage from the main building to the administrative area.

The administration building was even more dilapidated and gloomy, filled with the smell of stale paper and a certain... stronger aura of resentment. Following the signs, he found the staircase leading to the fourth floor.

An ominous black mist hung over the stairwell, thicker than downstairs. Shi Mo could sense that something far more powerful lurked there. He didn't force his way in, but patiently waited, observing the flow of the black mist.

Finally, in a brief moment, he shot up the stairs like an arrow, his powerful mental energy forming a thin shield that blocked most of the mental erosion and perception.

The fourth-floor corridor was empty and quiet, with only a heavy oak door carved with strange patterns standing at the end of the corridor—the dean's office.

Below the door handle, there is an inconspicuous card slot.

Shi Mo took out the "Consent to Forgo Treatment" form with a bright red handprint that he had found in the finance office from the system space (pretending to take it from his pocket) and aligned its edge with the card slot.

"Beep—"

A soft electronic beep sounded, accompanied by the click of the lock cylinder turning.

The door to the dean's office slowly opened a crack, and an even stronger, more ancient resentment and darkness rushed out from the gap.