"Remember what Matthew told us earlier?" Charles said.
"On the seventh day, which is October 31st, all the teachers and students in the school wander around with their own heads in hand, searching every nook and cranny for their prey. Those ghosts are the true hunters of this school."
Charles paused, as if a revelatory thought had crossed his mind.
"Last night, a ghostly mist enveloped the school. This mist not only impairs human sanity but also harbors incredibly terrifying ghosts. I believe the evil spirit lurking outside is here to prevent these things from entering the lab. It's guarding the mutants inside this experimental lab!"
Linda swallowed hard. "Are you saying these ghosts are even more frightening than the mutants below us?"
"Absolutely," Charles said earnestly. "In theory, they are much more horrifying than any mutant here. These mutants are, after all, just modified organisms. As grotesque and twisted as they may look, they still fall within the realm of 'human.'
Take, for example, the owner of this human-skin coat—its combat capabilities are actually not that high, and it has fatal weaknesses. We could easily kill it.
But those ghosts? That's another story."
At this point, Charles quickly spread out the piece of paper they had found earlier, laying it on the table and pointing at a specific line of text.
"Look—'Lord Beirut has ordered us to leave this laboratory as soon as possible. He will find a way to destroy everything here.'
Note the phrase 'find a way.' It implies that conventional means might not suffice. That's something to think about, isn't it?"
Linda covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. "Are you saying... this curse was deliberately created? And its purpose is... to annihilate everything here?"
Charles slowly nodded, his face increasingly revealing a strange excitement. Linda, seeing his eerie expression, involuntarily took a half-step back.
My God, we're in such a dangerous place... what's there to be excited about?
"The paradox has now been established—Lord Belrut of the Blood Moon Tower intends to obliterate everything about the research facility and Mist School through this curse, while Leopold, who has become a evil spirit within the research lab, wants to preserve it all."
"It's clear that it has a sense of self."
"For us, this is a good thing. After all... the enemy of our enemy is our friend. If we can find a way to communicate with it, we might get crucial information about the curse."
Charles became more animated as he spoke, his thoughts racing like a well-oiled machine.
Linda stayed silent for a moment before stretching out her hand and lightly touching Charles' forehead, muttering to herself, "You don't have a fever... why are you talking nonsense today?"
Charles rolled his eyes and slapped her hand away. "You really lack imagination."
Linda pouted, placing her hands on her hips and speaking earnestly, "This has nothing to do with imagination. You've seen how dangerous that evil spirit outside is... it's homicidal on sight, incredibly fast. You wouldn't even get through your self-introduction before—"
Charles cut her off. "Who told you I was planning to communicate with that thing?"
Linda blinked in confusion. "Huh???"
Charles sighed. "Never mind, explaining this to you is a hassle. Just follow me when the time comes."
Linda puffed out her cheeks, putting on a petulantly adorable face but choosing not to retort.
The two waited in the lab for a long time.
Charles kept an eye on the clock displayed on the instruments. A veil spirit guarded the outside entrance of the research facility, making it impossible for either the ghost mist or the ghosts within it to enter.
This place was safe.
Every now and then, he would peer through the crack in the door, observing the mutated creatures in the cafeteria.
Since these entities were human creations, they would get tired, and when tired, would return to their rooms to rest.
He wanted to approach the door at the very edge of the room but did not want to attract the attention of the other mutants.
If they all kept their distance from that particular door and Charles approached it, it could easily reveal that he was not one of them.
Around 3 a.m., all the mutated creatures left the cafeteria and retreated into their experimental capsules. Clearly, they had claimed that space as their territory.
Charles observed for another ten minutes.
Assured there was no issue, he carefully stepped out of his own experimental capsule with Linda in tow. They cautiously made their way toward the door at the very edge of the room.
The door bore the label X008.
Charles pushed it open.
The scene inside made Linda's scalp tingle and filled her with dread!
What lay before them was a massive tank filled with a transparent green liquid.
Inside the tank was a human-shaped network of nerves and blood vessels— intricate and numerous.
At the very top of this neural network were connections to a brain and multiple syringes.
The sight was profoundly unsettling—far more shocking than the sight of blood and flesh.
"What is this...?" Linda's eyes widened as she pointed at the massive tank, too stunned to speak.
Stroking his chin, Charles looked on with an appreciative eye and said, "This, my dear, is what I'd call a work of art."
"Stripped of almost all bone and flesh, leaving only the most vital veins and nerves. Kept alive by nutrient fluid and a controlled environment, with external stimulation replacing the heart to complete the circulation, channeling all energy to the brain."
"This sort of complete neural stripping procedure, among all the patients I've known before, only one could possibly achieve."
Inwardly, Linda wondered, "Is Charles exaggerating? How could such a procedure even be possible in real life?"
Linda cautiously moved closer to the culture tank. Then, she realized a grave implication:
"Charles... are you saying... it's still alive?"
Charles nodded.
"Yes. The nutrient fluid and the machinery are extremely costly. Those mad researchers would not go to such lengths for a dead person."
Linda turned her face away, her expression rigid.
The thing in the tank... it was... still alive?
What would it be feeling right now?
Cold?
Pain?
Despair?