The hospital corridor was a sterile white throat, threatening to swallow Kai whole.
The security guard's eyes were dead chips of plastic. He scanned Kai's tear-smeared face with the same level of interest he'd give a scuff mark on the linoleum. No sympathy. No concern. Not even a flicker of irritation.
"Find a doctor."
The delivery was flat, utterly devoid of a single fuck. Without a second glance, the guard resumed his patrol, his heavy boots squeaking a rhythm of profound indifference.
Kai scrubbed the fake tears from his face, watching the uniform disappear. Good. The hired help doesn't care if the inmates die. One less variable.
He turned and headed in the opposite direction, his eyes flicking to the digital clock on the wall. 00:50 .
Ten minutes until the chime. Rule 10: When the clock strikes the hour, you must not be in a hallway.
Breaking the rule wasn't the issue; his Talent, The Rulebreaker, would negate the Corruption. But Corruption was only the guaranteed penalty. The rulebook never mentioned the other things that might happen. The unlisted environmental hazards.
Three doors. All locked. He rattled the handles, getting nothing but a dull click.
Five minutes left. If I can't find a new room, I'll just head back to the old man's. Plan B is solid. Corpses don't snore, and they don't complain about roommates.
His livestream audience was on the same wavelength.
[> THE CHIME! HE'S GONNA GET CAUGHT!]
[> Nah, he's got a fallback. Just return to the last room. The old guy is a permanent resident of the afterlife now. Giga-brain move by Kai.]
[> Exactly! Other Players who gave the photo back had to leave the room once the patient fell asleep, per Rule 4. But Kai made the room empty. He has a guaranteed safe zone!]
[> See, it's all connected! If you took too long finding the photo, you'd be screwed now. You'd escape the patient just to get wrecked by the chime.]
[> And Rule 9 says no running. Imagine the timer ticking down, every door is locked, and you can't even sprint. I'd tilt so hard.]
[> This Instance seems low-danger on the surface, but the real horror is the clock. It's a soft enrage timer for the whole hospital.]
At 00:55 , his hand turned a handle that gave way. Unlocked.
He slipped inside. A man with a heavily bandaged head was propped up in bed, a book resting in his lap. He wore a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses.
As the door clicked shut, the man looked up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single, deliberate finger.
"Hungry?" he asked, his voice unnervingly soft. "Care for a bite?"
Kai's gaze dropped from the man's gentle face to the title of his book:
101 Ways to Cook Children
Oh, for fuck's sake. Another themed Anomaly? How original. Kai's lips twitched into a smirk. He strolled closer. "Nice read. Are you a chef?"
The man's smile widened. "I am."
From beneath his blanket, he produced a sealed bento box, offering it to Kai. The gesture was warm, paternal.
"This is my latest creation. I was hoping for a second opinion."
Kai made no move to take it. The contents were obviously not on any approved food pyramid. The cookbook was a dead giveaway.
He glanced at the clock. 12:57 . Three minutes until the chime.
Time for a little experiment. But first, I need to proc a buff.
This "culinary artist" would fold Kai's seven-year-old body in a fair fight. There was no convenient oxygen tank to exploit here. Refusing the food was the safe play—it would avoid Corruption but likely trigger an immediate, violent attack.
That's where his Title Skill would come in clutch.
Right now, Kai's threat list was short: the Director, security guards, and night-shift nurses. The rules specifically warned against them, which was system-speak for "ludicrously overpowered."
But this guy? This bandaged, book-reading chef? Not mentioned anywhere. He was a random encounter. Fair game.
The chef's voice lost its gentle edge when Kai continued to ignore the bento box.
"What's the matter? Don't you want to try it? I worked so hard on it."
Suddenly, Kai's expression crumpled. His eyes welled up with profound, gut-wrenching sorrow.
"So… you really don't remember me."
His small arm trembled as he raised it, pointing a shaky finger at the chef. Fat tears, summoned on command, rolled down his cheeks.
"Would you believe me," he choked out, "if I told you… I am your long-lost father?"
The room plunged into a silence so profound it felt like the audio had cut out.
[Dread Points +10]
While the hospital room went dead, the livestream chat had a collective aneurysm.
[> WAIT WHAT?]
[> DID HE JUST—]
[> MY BRAIN.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING. I M FUCKING DONE.]
[> This kid isn't just playing with fire, he's trying to speedrun a gasoline bath. WHAT IS THIS STRAT?]
[> I cannot comprehend his thought process. Is he throwing? Is this next-level trolling? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!]
[> LMAO I know I should be scared of him, but I just spit out my drink. The monster's face! That look of pure, unadulterated confusion! WHO RAISED THIS CHILD?!]
The chef's furious hiss shattered the quiet.
"Heh… heh heh. You've got a death wish, kid!"
Kai's voice rose to match, somehow sounding even more wounded and furious.
"You don't believe me?! "
A surge of power coursed through Kai's tiny frame. Text bloomed in his vision.
[Failed Deception detected. Entering Rage Mode: All Stats +10]