The black-gold card gleamed with the promise of unlimited power.
I didn't rush to push open the heavy soundproof door in front of me. Instead, I held the card between two fingers, examining it under the corridor's harsh fluorescent light. After confirming the security features were authentic, I slipped it into my shirt pocket with ceremonial care.
The spot closest to my heart.
In this godforsaken place where death lurked around every corner, only money could provide even the illusion of warmth—or safety.
"Remember," I said, adjusting my collar with businesslike efficiency. I didn't soften my tone despite speaking to the warden. "Cleaning fees for this level are extra. Hazard pay too. And..."
I turned my head, letting my gaze sweep over the ornate silver medal on Adam's chest with the same interest I'd show a piece of scrap metal.
"If you get my clothes dirty again, the price doubles. Your laundry service can't handle bloodstains."
Adam leaned on his walking stick, his smile playing at the edges of something dangerous.
He made an elegant gesture of invitation, as if welcoming a distinguished guest to the gallows rather than sending someone to their death.
"Of course, Doctor Shen. As long as you can quiet them down, you could demolish this entire prison and I'd hand you the explosives myself."
The livestream audience was still buzzing from the previous "Gatling Buddha" spectacle. Now, seeing the scene transition, the chat exploded again.
```
[Livestream Chat]
→ @TwinFan: Here we go! The Twin Stars!
→ @MoneyLover: I love how money-obsessed the doctor is—so realistic!
→ @PessimistPrime: Don't get too excited. The twins are notorious sadists. Doctor's got no heavy weapons this time.
→ @BloodHound: Wait... is that blood seeping under the door?
```
I ignored the scrolling red text.
My palm pressed against the cold metal door.
Biometric scan complete.
*RUMBLE—*
The massive doors slid apart.
A wave of metallic stench hit me like a physical blow—rust and copper so thick it bypassed my nose and went straight to my gag reflex.
This wasn't a cell.
This was a massive, mirror-lined maze from hell.
Ceiling, floor, walls—even floating geometric prisms—everything was reflective surface. Countless fractured images bounced between them, making it impossible to distinguish reality from reflection.
At the center of this kaleidoscope nightmare, two crimson figures writhed together.
Identical red-haired twins.
The only difference between them was their collar numbers: 05A and 05B.
Lucian was straddling his brother Damian, hands locked around his throat, fingernails embedded deep enough to draw blood that trickled down pale collarbones, staining their torn restraint uniforms.
But Damian wasn't struggling. Instead, he was laughing maniacally while driving a jagged mirror shard deep into his brother's shoulder.
"Get out! Get out of my head!"
"Kill you... kill you and I'll be free! Hehehe..."
They were trying to claw each other out from the soul level, their self-destructive madness filling the space with sick desperation.
The strangest part? Despite the blood and violence, their faces showed pure ecstasy.
No pain.
Only twisted euphoria.
I stood in the doorway, my expression darkening instantly.
Filthy.
Absolutely filthy.
Glass shards, tissue fragments, shredded fabric everywhere.
For someone with severe mysophobia, this was a disaster scene of biblical proportions.
Both maniacs sensed the newcomer simultaneously.
*Click.*
The violence stopped mid-motion.
Countless mirrors reflected two pairs of identical vertical pupils—cold, vicious, locked onto the white coat at the door.
"What kind of bug crawled in here?"
They spoke in unison, voices overlapping with spine-chilling resonance.
Lucian tilted his head without getting up, casually grabbing a palm-sized mirror shard.
Without looking, he flicked his wrist.
*Whoosh—!*
The sound cut through air like a scream.
With S-Class strength behind it, that fragment was deadlier than a bullet, carrying murderous intent straight for my forehead.
```
[Livestream Chat]
→ @Anonymous: LOOK OUT!!!
→ @SpeedDemon: No way to dodge that speed!
```
I didn't move.
Didn't even blink. Just pushed my glasses up with obvious annoyance.
Three centimeters from my nose, the shard met something invisible.
*Hum.*
Golden ripples spread through the air.
It was Weiss's [Micro-Manipulation] ability, forcibly modified by my purification energy into a defensive form—a micro-repulsion field.
*BANG.*
The glass exploded into powder.
I remained untouched.
But.
Those microscopic glass particles drifted down under gravity's pull, settling precisely on my pristine white coat sleeve, leaving a gray, dusty mark.
Silence.
I looked down at the stain for exactly three seconds.
My previously calm expression visibly darkened, the temperature around the doorway dropping to arctic levels.
"Excellent."
I raised my head, eyes behind the lenses cold as winter death.
"You've successfully pissed me off."
The twins exchanged glances, excitement flickering between them.
"Oh? The bug's angry?"
Damian pushed his brother off, moving on all fours like a lizard, head tilted as he licked blood from his lips with a crimson tongue.
"Seems... more interesting than our previous toys."
"I want his eyes," Lucian said, pulling the shard from his shoulder. The wound was bone-deep, but he didn't even flinch.
"That cold color would look perfect preserved in formaldehyde. For my collection."
They flanked me like hunting wolves, moving with inhuman speed.
I didn't retreat.
Instead, I pulled out those ever-present disinfectant wipes, methodically cleaning my sleeve while walking straight toward two S-Class monsters.
"Shoulder penetration wound, 400cc blood loss, yet no pain sensation."
My voice echoed in the mirror maze—clinical, professional, yet dripping with inexplicable mockery.
"Blocked pain receptors? Severed sensory sharing? Think that makes you two separate individuals?"
I tossed the dirty wipe aside without breaking stride.
"In medical terms, that's called self-deception."
```
[Livestream Chat]
→ @SuicideWatch: What's he doing? Feeding himself to them?!
→ @TacticalError: Don't go closer! Even battle mages don't play like this!
→ @ObservantEye: Wait, look at the doctor's hands!
```
My fingers, hanging at my sides, were moving in microscopic patterns.
Invisible golden threads snaked through the air like living things, burrowing into their wounds and pores.
[Micro-Manipulation].
Since you severed your pain receptors, I'll reconnect them for you.
Not just reconnect—amplify.
"Die!"
Lucian reached me first, mouth open, razor-sharp canines aimed at my throat.
As his fetid breath hit my face, I sidestepped with fluid grace.
Avoiding the bite without creating distance.
Moving closer instead.
My left hand struck like lightning, clamping onto the back of his neck.
"Got you."
My voice dropped low as two fingers found a precise pressure point and squeezed hard.
No bone-cracking sound.
No scream from Lucian.
"AHHH—!!!"
A shriek that broke into falsetto erupted five meters away.
Damian.
The brother who'd been preparing a sneak attack suddenly convulsed like he'd been struck by lightning.
His entire body went rigid before his legs gave out, sending him crashing to his knees among the glass shards.
"Hah... it hurts... so much..."
Damian clutched his own neck desperately. Though no one was touching him, he acted like someone had grabbed his vital point.
His face flushed crimson, tears streaming involuntarily as he gasped for air.
Meanwhile, Lucian—the one actually being held—had completely lost his fighting ability.
He hung limp in my grip, pupils dilated, body trembling violently. His vicious expression was replaced by profound confusion and... strange tingling sensations.
```
[Livestream Chat - frozen for one second, then absolute chaos]
→ @Anonymous: ????????
→ @TechNerd: HOLY SHIT! BLUETOOTH CONNECTION?!
→ @TwinExpert: Squeeze the brother, other one kneels? What kind of godly technique is this?!
→ @MedicalMiracle: Physical empathy! This is medical science!
→ @EarphoneUser: That sound... I can't listen without headphones!
```
I held Lucian with one hand, running my finger down his spine through the fabric.
A light touch.
"This is the vagus nerve."
I pressed down.
Damian arched like a cooked shrimp, broken gasps escaping his throat: "Ugh... no... don't... too... too much..."
"This is the sympathetic nerve. Controls arousal."
Another press.
Lucian's knees buckled, his entire body going limp. Only my grip on his collar kept him upright.
"What happened? Weren't you going to kill me just now?"
I looked down at the flushed, dazed killer in my arms, my voice carrying medical authority.
"Severed pain receptors? How naive. I just repaired your neural pathways and... increased your sensory sensitivity by a thousand times."
"What's a thousand times mean?"
I leaned close to Lucian's ear and blew gently.
For him, that breath was a category-ten hurricane sweeping through his entire nervous system.
"AH—!"
Lucian convulsed violently, the overload making it impossible to distinguish pain from pleasure. His mind went blank, drool escaping uncontrolled.
Damian was even worse, rolling frantically on the mirror-covered floor. Every tiny friction was amplified into atomic bomb-level impact.
"Stop... stop... it's so weird... those are brother's feelings... mmh..."
The sensation was terrifying.
No one was touching him, but every detail of his brother's experience—finger temperature, air currents, even fabric friction—exploded in his mind with thousand-fold clarity.
This forced "empathy" in every sense was worse than torture, yet carried shameful undertones of pleasure.
```
[Livestream Chat]
→ @FreeLoader: Is this free content?!
→ @BuyOneGetOne: Two-for-one conditioning! I'm watching on my knees!
→ @DevilDoctor: Thousand-fold sensitivity?! Doctor, you're a demon!
→ @RemoteControl: Anyone who messes with the doctor gets remote-controlled. Brilliant!
```
Satisfied with the results, I released my grip with disgust.
Lucian slid to the floor like melted wax, instinctively crawling toward his brother.
The two who'd been trying to murder each other moments ago now clung together, trembling. They looked at me not as prey, but as some incomprehensible deity.
I pulled out a second wipe, meticulously cleaning each finger as if I'd touched something contaminated.
"Since you can't separate, behave yourselves."
I dropped the wipe in front of them, voice cold and commanding:
"If I see you fighting or making messes in your cell again, I'll give your entire nervous system a complete 'deep cleaning.'"
"Try me if you don't believe it."
The twins shook their heads frantically in perfect synchronization, eyes filled with terror.
Outside the door, Adam watched through one-way glass, pale fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on his walking stick.
"Magnificent..."
He murmured, eyes dark with sick fascination.
"Using the twins' quantum entanglement for this kind of... collective punishment system. Even manipulating sensory thresholds..."
"What a... delightfully monstrous creature."
I had no interest in admiring my handiwork.
Forcibly using [Micro-Manipulation] to modify S-Class neural systems had drained my mental energy severely.
Needle-sharp pain stabbed through my brain—the warning sign of power overuse.
I needed to leave immediately and find somewhere to inject suppressants.
As I turned to go, a bloody hand suddenly grabbed my ankle.
My body tensed, killing intent flashing in my eyes.
But looking down, I saw it was Lucian.
The S-Class maniac who'd been arrogantly murderous moments ago now lay prostrate, gazing up at me. His vertical pupils held no aggression—only complex, almost dependent fervor.
"Wait..."
Lucian's voice was hoarse, still flushed from the experience.
"What? The stimulation wasn't enough?" I frowned, fingers twitching threateningly.
Lucian flinched but refused to let go.
He stared into my eyes, lowering his voice to say something inexplicable:
"Your mental energy... the scent... it's the same as 'that traitor'..."
Traitor?
I paused.
"Be careful..."
Lucian's fingers trembled—from fear or lingering excitement, I couldn't tell.
"Next is Father Elijah... he'll kill you..."
"Once he smells this scent... he'll definitely sacrifice you to... the true god."
Before I could question him further, the red system window that had been playing dead suddenly flashed violently, ear-splitting alarms exploding in my brain:
```
[WARNING! WARNING!]
[Target 04 (Father Elijah) detected entering deep self-hypnosis!]
[Danger Level: SSS+ (Immeasurable)]
[System Recommendation: No matter what you hear, absolutely DO NOT listen to his confession!]
[If you unfortunately hear it... please commit suicide immediately.]
[That is an abyss more terrifying than death.]