Switzerland, headquarters of the Dusk Bell Church.
Unlike New York, the weather in this city was not very good, with a constant drizzle.
From time to time, there were flashes of lightning.
In the underground room, Ryan's room.
Drip drip...
The sound of footsteps arose.
The next second, the door was pulled open abruptly.
Ryan, dressed in a white lab coat, walked out, his eyes dark as if he hadn't slept well, his hair a mess, yet he did not give off a sense of decrepitude.
As an idealistic, goal-oriented "psychiatrist."
For a long time, Ryan had been living a monotonous life day after day.
Back when he was at Hill Psychiatric Hospital, his daily routine was unchanging.
He would sleep in the ward, patrol the hospital for patients trying to escape, and regularly report to the director at scheduled times.
But Ryan never grew weary of it.
Because to him, that was his life.
