"So are you planning to leave them here? With me?"
Lunas sat on the chair, looking at the patients Ron had in the hospital. Ron nodded, pointed toward Quân, and instructed carefully.
"Regarding those two siblings, you can just mimic my voice to answer them. As for Quân, just tell him that Ron sent you, and that will be enough."
Hearing Ron's words, Lunas could only scratch his head helplessly. He glanced at Ron once more, unable to resist asking further.
"Didn't you just say earlier that this fellow is highly suspicious? So what is the protocol between you and him?"
Hearing that question, Ron pondered for a brief moment, then replied to the question with a weary and drained tone, as if trying to exhale each cloud of verbal smoke.
"Well... whatever you want. Knocking him unconscious works too, just do not kill him and do not cause too much harm."
After saying that, Ron simply closed the door, leaving Lunas to fumble around with them.
...
Ron opened the glass door of the hospital. Welcoming him was not the sunlight of a new year, but the foul and rancid stench of dead corpses.
He savored that smell with an emotionless, indifferent face, as if this scent resembling dead rats carried absolutely no aftertaste.
Ron sat down on the steps, his gaze firmly fixed on his left hand.
The hand that seemed to have been completely destroyed was now fully healed as if nothing had ever happened.
He... had only used fishing lines to connect the hand back to its old place, pretending that the hand was still fine, but now it seemed to have reattached completely.
This thing was truly strange.
But the word strange was only meant for places without a solution.
"What do you think? Constructing a meaningless game, and then it mutated?"
A voice from afar woke Ron from his daze. He looked up, then let out a self deprecating smile.
"Not sure how to describe it easily either," Ron replied, his hands tucked inside his coat pockets.
"RSISA."
"Let's go to the train."
...
"So... is everything over now?"
The crowd gathered tightly around the middle aged man who was holding a small, blood drenched axe.
He looked at the corpse he had just killed with an expression of dread and consternation, the horror unable to be concealed within those trembling eyes any longer.
"I-Is it a demon?!"
"Definitely!"
"What do we do now?! How many minutes are left?"
"Slow down, eight minutes, it is only eight minutes! He doesn't have magic anymore?!"
"He has magic, didn't you see that axe?!"
The crowd fell into utter chaos, gradually retreating after that entity cast his eyes over to look.
Just a single gaze from the killer made everyone fall silent, unable to utter another word.
"Sister, what is there to fear? J-Just stay behind me."
Quân also followed the crowd, standing far away from the killer. He shielded the girl and her younger brother from that horrific gaze.
"Sister, keep a careful hold on Mark, there is not much time left. Everything is gradually coming to an end."
At least that was what Quân hoped, as he could no longer predict what Ron had done anymore.
Quân gasped for breath while looking at the flesh fragments that had been chopped into pieces by that middle aged man.
He, the killer, was casually stepping on Ron's corpse.
Quân anxiously looked around. According to Ron's words, everything was only just beginning right now.
"I request the decree: protection."
The killer spoke with a trembling voice. And then a click sound echoed from the front of the train car.
"Please."
Quân looked through the window, watching the train car rushing away into the infinite darkness at an unpredictable speed.
'Time. The key to the whole thing is time.'
'Every occult anomaly has rules. And rules are born to serve the powerful. As long as the weak dare to stand up, the rules will surely destroy them.'
End of Part 3 Volume 1: Bizarre City.