Since all these rules and superstitions are outdated, what's wrong with me indulging in some me

As night deepened, the buildings of the Jinghu Cognitive Therapy Center resembled a lurking beast, casting enormous shadows under the moonlight.

Lu Changsheng had been hiding in the green belt opposite the inpatient department for nearly an hour, observing the situation.

There were two security guards at the entrance of the inpatient department, and the windows on the first floor were all fitted with security bars, seemingly without any flaws.

But he noticed that every half hour two nurses would come out of the side door, pushing medical waste bins toward the processing station at the back—the only passage without security guards directly watching over it.

He calculated the time difference between the nurses' handover. The bulge in his chest subsided temporarily, but he could still feel that strange throbbing inside.

Lu Changsheng slipped out from the green belt and, using the shadows of the buildings as cover, circled around to the side entrance of the inpatient department.

He moved close to the wall; there was a card reader next to the door, its indicator light flashing a faint green light.

Lu Changsheng took out his employee ID card—the one the nurse had given him during the day.

He didn't have high hopes, since the inpatient department should have higher authority.

But when he placed his employee ID card close to the sensor area—

"Beep".

The crisp electronic sound was particularly jarring in the silence.

The glass doors slid open silently to both sides.

Lu Changsheng's pupils suddenly contracted.

His employee ID was able to open the door to the inpatient department?

This isn't right. Unless this employee ID was granted special privileges from the beginning.

A chill ran down my spine and up my neck, but once the arrow was released, there was no turning back.

Lu Changsheng slipped inside, and the glass door quietly closed behind him.

The lights in the lobby were brighter than those outside, casting a pale, lifeless glow that made everything appear bloodless. The air was thick with the pungent smell of disinfectant.

Lu Changsheng quickly scanned his surroundings. To the left was a staircase and elevator leading upstairs, and to the right was a long corridor lined with tightly closed doors on both sides. The doors had no windows, only metal number plates.

He needs to find Zhou Ming.

Lu Changsheng took out another employee badge from his pocket, which was the metal name tag he had taken during the day.

Lu Changsheng closed his eyes, held the employee badge in his palm, and began to make hand seals with his other hand.

Qimen Dunjia, a method of tracing and tracking the soul.

He silently recited the incantation, injecting a faint trace of energy into Zhou Ming's employee badge, while simultaneously releasing his senses to try and capture any traces related to the badge's owner.

At first there was nothing.

But gradually, the name tag in his palm began to get slightly warm, and a very faint, almost imperceptible "line" extended from the name tag, pointing into the depths of the corridor—not horizontally, but downwards.

underground?

He walked quickly forward, pushed open the fire door at the end of the corridor, and behind it was a staircase leading downwards.

The stairwell was dimly lit, and the air grew colder and the smell of formaldehyde stronger the further down you went. Lu Changsheng stopped at the bottom of the stairs—it was a heavy metal door.

There is also a card reader and a palm print recognition panel next to the door.

Lu Changsheng took out his employee ID card again, hesitated for a moment, and then stuck it on.

"Beep—Authorization verified. Welcome, ID gm-087."

A cold, electronic female voice rang out.

The serial number is "gm-087"?

Is this my...number?

Lu Changsheng touched the "hole" in his chest, and an ominous premonition welled up in his heart.

A hissing sound came from inside the metal door as the airtight valve was released, and then it slowly slid open to both sides.

An even stronger, more nauseating odor wafted over.

The sight behind the door made Lu Changsheng's blood almost freeze.

This is not a hospital ward.

This is a laboratory.

A huge experimental space, at least five meters high. Pale white operating lights hang from the ceiling, illuminating dozens of neatly arranged transparent cylindrical containers below—each container is more than two meters high and about one meter in diameter, filled with a pale green, translucent liquid.

And a group of strange "things" were soaking in the liquid.

They come in various shapes and sizes, but all share characteristics of being distorted, incomplete, and inhuman.

Some are even more deformed, with twisted limbs and misaligned facial features; some don't even have a complete human shape, but are just a constantly writhing, ever-changing shadow.

The container surface is covered with a dense network of pipes, some for transporting liquids, some for monitoring data, and others for extending electrode patches that attach to the heads and chests of those objects.

The display screen next to it showed waveforms and data, and each container had a label underneath.

Lu Changsheng looked at it carefully.

【It: No. 1183】

It is "it".

Every container here contains "it".

Lu Changsheng felt a chill run down his spine, so these "it"s were all real, a reality that completely conflicted with the rules.

[Rule 2. If a patient claims to perceive "another being" and refers to it as "it," firmly deny its existence and do not claim to see or hear it.]

The golden threads continued to extend forward, pointing to the deepest part of the laboratory.

Lu Changsheng forced himself to look away and stepped through the eerie container forest.

Footsteps echoed in the empty laboratory. The creatures immersed in the liquid seemed to sense something, and several slowly opened their eyes—no pupils, only a murky, resentful dark red.

They stared silently at the intruder through the glass.

Lu Changsheng quickened his pace and finally arrived at the end of the laboratory.

It was a specially made petri dish, twice the size of the others. Instead of a pale green nutrient solution, it contained a dark red, viscous liquid. A man was suspended in the liquid.

His eyes were closed, his face was ashen, and his body was connected to even more complex and numerous tubes.

His chest was open—not from a surgical incision, but like Lu Changsheng's, with a bowl-sized, irregularly shaped hole.

Through that hole, you could clearly see inside the chest cavity—the heart was gone, replaced by a dark red mass that was constantly writhing and pulsating, rhythmically contracting and expanding.

The tracking line points to this very person.

This person is Zhou Ming.

The label at the bottom of the petri dish reads:

"Live material GM-067".

I am GM-087.

Lu Changsheng suddenly remembered the announcement from the card reader, and a bad feeling arose within him.

The data is displayed on the side screen:

Brainwave activity: faint but present

[Spontaneous breathing: maintained by the device]

[Emotional energy residue: 0]

[Note: The material is stable; the 'it' at the chest area remains active.]

Is that "it" on my chest?

Lu Changsheng suddenly looked at the blurry mass on the man's chest.

What does this mean? Wasn't Zhou Ming transferred to the inpatient department to become a doctor?

[A hole! Look at the hole in his chest! Is that what's wriggling inside 'it'?]

[How terrifying! Why is Zhou Ming's heart gone? Why is "it" like this now?]

[Holy crap, does that mean Lu Shen's chest also has "it" inside?]

Just then, Zhou Ming, who was in the petri dish, suddenly opened his eyes!