The other members of the board sat up abruptly, their faces a mixture of shock and concern. It was that voice again, the disembodied narrator revealing intimate details about their esteemed Dean. Everyone tried to suppress a nervous laugh, but a palpable tension filled the room as they grappled with the unsettling situation.
Zack, who had cautiously reentered the hospital, stood frozen in the hallway outside the meeting room. His expression was a mask of disbelief as he registered the range of Valentina's inner voice – it could broadcast across an entire hospital now? The implications were staggering.
Inner voice: Ah, Dr. Qureu, better go home! If you do surgery, it will be your first failed operation, but it wasn't your fault; someone set you up. Tsktsk, okay, okay Maw Maw! Let's do another person!
The initial amusement and shock quickly morphed into a pervasive sense of unease as the hospital staff attempted to process what they were experiencing. The voice, the revelations, the sheer impossibility of it all – it was too much to simply dismiss as a prank or a hallucination.
But the most unsettling aspect wasn't the voice itself, but the inexplicable barrier that prevented anyone from discussing it. When someone attempted to verbalize their thoughts, a strange resistance arose, a feeling of being stifled, unable to articulate what they were experiencing. It was as if an invisible wall had been erected around the topic.
"Did…did you hear that?" a nurse whispered to her colleague, only to trail off as she realized she couldn't quite finish the sentence. The words felt stuck in her throat, refusing to form properly.
Her colleague tried to respond, but a similar sensation washed over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He shook his head, frustration etched on his face.
"It's... it's like I can't..." he stammered, unable to complete the thought.
Attempts to type out an email or a memo detailing the bizarre events proved equally futile. As soon as anyone began to type the words "voice," "thoughts," or "mind reading," the letters would inexplicably disappear from the screen, replaced by gibberish or error messages. The hospital's advanced computer systems seemed to be actively resisting any attempt to document what was happening.
A wave of frustration rippled through the hospital staff. Doctors slammed their hands on desks, nurses angrily jabbed at keyboards, and administrators stared blankly at their unresponsive computers.
Dean William Fang, despite his initial shock and irritation, found himself strangely captivated by the unfolding situation. The inexplicable inability to discuss or document the voice was far more unsettling than the voice itself. It hinted at a power beyond comprehension, a force that defied logic and reason.
He cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the meeting.
"Alright," he said, his voice strained but firm.
"Let's…let's focus on the patients for now." He deliberately avoided mentioning the voice, feeling an instinctive aversion to even thinking about it too deeply.
The board members exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale and drawn. They sensed that something profound and potentially dangerous was unfolding within the hospital walls.
Meanwhile, in her hospital room, Valentina smirked as she listened to Maw Maw's excited chatter.
"Host host! The humans are so confused!"
Maw Maw already earned fifty system energy points. Valentina was tired now so stopped looking for gossip.
The morning sun streamed through the hospital windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling cafeteria. Valentina, radiating an almost unnerving cheerfulness, practically skipped towards the counter, her black hair bouncing with each step. She genuinely loved the hospital cafeteria – the aroma of freshly baked bread, the comforting clatter of trays, and, most importantly, the delicious food.
"Hello," she chirped, her voice sweet and melodious.
"Can I have sweet and sour pork, please?"
The cafeteria lady's eyes widened slightly as she registered Valentina's voice. It was the voice – the same disembodied voice that had echoed through the hospital's corridors yesterday, revealing secrets and causing widespread chaos. A shiver ran down her spine as she stared at the seemingly innocent young woman before her.
Inner voice: Ah, this auntie, the cafeteria lady, is so beautiful! Ah, she went to 7/11 and bought a lottery ticket. She chose numbers between 24, 3, 102, 67, 12, and 9. That's how she'll become a millionaire! Ah, auntie must not forget me! She should get a call now; her net worth will be 90.9 million dollars!
Valentina maintained an innocent expression, her crimson eyes sparkling with an almost childlike delight. She didn't notice the growing unease among the other patrons of the cafeteria.
The cafeteria lady stood frozen for a moment, her hand hovering over the cash register. Then, with a gasp, she rushed towards the back of the cafeteria, grabbing her phone from behind the counter.
Everyone in the cafeteria held their breath, a collective hush falling over the room. The patients, nurses, and doctors – all united by a shared sense of bewilderment and morbid curiosity – waited with bated breath for the cafeteria lady to speak. The memory of yesterday's unsettling revelations was still fresh in their minds, and the prospect of another dramatic announcement was both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.
The phone rang, shattering the silence. The cafeteria lady answered it, her hand trembling slightly as she listened intently to the voice on the other end. Her eyes widened with disbelief, and a gasp escaped her lips. She turned back to face the cafeteria, her face flushed with excitement and shock.
"I won 90.9 million dollars!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
Inner voice: Not shocked, not shocked! If I were her, I'd divorce that scumbag husband and then get that money!
Valentina's seemingly innocent smile widened just a fraction, a subtle hint of amusement flickering in her crimson eyes. She didn't react outwardly to the cafeteria lady's announcement, maintaining her facade of blissful ignorance.
At this moment, the patients, nurses, and even the doctors in the cafeteria were utterly stunned. The sheer improbability of the situation was almost too much to bear. But beneath the shock lay a burgeoning sense of excitement and anticipation. They had witnessed firsthand the power of Valentina's voice, its ability to predict the future with uncanny accuracy. Now, they were desperate to hear more drama unfold, to be swept up in the whirlwind of revelations that seemed to follow Valentina wherever she went.