Rhodes Island does not exist.

At this point, it's pointless to care about anything else. For the doctor, success is simply getting back to room 1002.

"Tick, tick."

The faster the doctor moved, the more the two pieces of meat in his hands shook. And the greater the shaking, the more body tissue detached.

"These things that have fallen off... won't they turn into monsters later?" Looking back at the deep red marks, the doctor couldn't help but express a rather realistic concern.

However, worrying about such things is pointless at the moment, since even if they could become monsters, it would ultimately be just a matter of the Doctor using a pickaxe.

Thus, with this apprehension in mind, the doctor finally reached the tenth floor.

"Huh, here we are."

Stepping into room 1002, the doctor immediately and swiftly threw the two pieces of meat, which were almost rotten to the point of being only a third of their original size, into the biological tank he had been holding.

Surprisingly, yet also logically, the pieces of meat thrown into the biological tank quickly stopped decaying, and even the white spots that had appeared on the surface due to the rotting disappeared, showing even faint signs of recovery.

The whole process happened so quickly that the doctor didn't even have time to react before the root of the problem was stopped.

It was as if this biological tank was not a device for restoring flesh and blood, but a device for turning back time.

"That's really surprising... and judging from Warfarin's diary and records, she probably didn't even notice this, did she?"

Although he was staring intently at the restoration reaction that had resumed in the bio-tank, the doctor's memory was still stuck on the sound of raindrops along the way.

After all, the speed of the corruption reaction was astonishing, exceeding his expectations in every aspect.

"Phew... I have to do an experiment, I absolutely have to do an experiment."

Banishing those scenes from his mind, the doctor's gaze fell upon the other biological tanks.

Because he cannot be sure whether what just happened was accidental or inevitable, and it is also possible that there was something wrong with the meat itself, he cannot draw a conclusion about the nature of the biological tank so quickly.

Therefore, a control group experiment is necessary.

As for the experimental material for the other group, it was undoubtedly necessary to select the piece with the most complete condition.

Then, the doctor's gaze fell on a heart in the adjacent terrarium.

Judging from the appearance and size of that heart, it should belong to the Minoan race.

After all, most of the Minoan people are strong and tall, and in order to supply their daily oxygen needs, they need a strong heart.

"Well, I'm sorry."

Paying homage to the deceased, the doctor reached out towards the bio-tank and touched the heart.

"Snapped."

Then, while thinking about apologizing, the doctor threw the heart in his hand onto the floor at his feet.

The fresh Minoan heart was still beating, as if it were still alive inside him.

But this scenario did not last long, nor could it last long.

The doctor's gaze gradually sharpened as he stared at it.

Because when this heart is exposed to the outside air for one minute, its color begins to gradually change.

The once bright red, blood-stained, and pulsating organs began to lose their vibrant color and gradually faded to a dark hue. At the same time, the pulsation stopped as the color faded, becoming as silent as death, and the organs continued to decline and decay.

Corrosive spots began to sprout up one after another on its surface like bamboo shoots after a spring rain. The doctor knew that once something surfaced, it meant that many things beneath the surface were already completely rotten.

This is true for everything.

Along with the intense signs of decay, the heart began to shrink. And this change happened so quickly that even a blind person could see it.

"stop."

Then, after silently counting to one minute and forty-four seconds, the doctor softly said the word "stop".

The vibrant, beating heart that was there about two minutes ago has now been completely assimilated into the mass of flesh that was previously churning out like a torrential downpour.

"It seems I understand now what the principle behind this biological tank is."

The doctor let out a wry laugh, tinged with lingering fear.

"Sorry, you docile weirdo on the fourth floor, there's nothing to feed you now."

-

Thank you segment.

Chapter 277, Part 275: He saw the long-lost illusion again.

Warfarin must not know this function of the biological tank.

She probably didn't know that although this biological tank could restore biological tissues, it was only for a very short period of time.

Things placed inside will begin to reverse, reverting to a state of near perfection; however, this perfection is a cage. Because once the things inside leave the biological tank, they will collapse back into their damaged state in a very short time.

"Thankfully, Warfarin didn't swallow those actions like food... What a relief." Looking at the rotten mess that was once his heart, the Doctor shook his head with a hint of pity.

If Warfarin had actually done that, she would probably be in grave danger, or even dead by now.

I am grateful for her last remaining sense of morality.

"I have to go find her. If I don't tell her about this, the consequences will be unimaginable." Picking up the pickaxe from the ground again, the doctor had a short-term goal in mind.

Although he never found out the origin of these biological tanks, at least he saw Warfarin there, which was the best outcome.

“Since she has come into contact with the strange creature and the organs here, there must be traces left on her body.”

A bluish-green light appeared in the doctor's eyes, its brightness and contrast far surpassing that of the current doctor. It was as if he were displaying the majesty of "this is the real deal."

But it doesn’t matter.

The doctor observing from the sidelines wouldn't care about any of that; he would only care about what he himself had done.

"Very obvious."

In the doctor's field of vision, a tangled, swirling red smoke was floating in the air, passing through the closed door and extending into the corridor.

Those were Warfarin's traces, the scent she left in the air.

By following this scent, we can find Warfarin's whereabouts.

"Although I've wanted to complain about Kroos for a long time... this visualization of the odor analysis looks just like something made by a certain Kazimierz game company."

The doctor shook his head with a wry smile, trying to catch the air in his field of vision.

-

After roughly cleaning up the remaining rotten flesh in the room, the doctor left room 1002, taking his pickaxe with him.

Following the scent of warfarin, the doctor walked down the corridor on the tenth floor.

The place was empty, silent, and eerie.

All the doors to the rooms were tightly shut to the doctor, and the visual images left by the scent indicated that Warfarin had not entered these rooms, nor had she even stayed there.

Her trajectory meandered out of room 1002, then went straight to the end of the tenth floor.

That was the exit on the tenth floor, leading to the stairwell on the upper floors.

Unlike the elevator shaft connected to the ninth floor, the tenth floor is again accessed by stairs, and its appearance is similar to the exit on the fourth floor, with fire doors used as partitions.

"It shouldn't be connected to the floors below." Following the scent, the doctor quickly walked to the stairwell and then pushed open the two doors.

It feels very smooth to the touch, without any stickiness.

The scene behind the door was nothing more than a wall and a staircase leading to the upper floor.

In other words, there is no way down the stairs from the tenth floor to the next floor.

"Warfarin goes straight up from here... just follow along."

Since the surrounding environment was relatively clean and there was the protection of the Analytical Eye, the Doctor did not suspect that there was anything strange lurking in the stairwell.

"This is the eleventh floor."

As the doctor climbed the stairs, he saw a fire door that was exactly the same as the one on the tenth floor.

What kind of world lies behind the door? The doctor tried to expand the area of ​​analysis, but all he saw was emptiness.

It appears that this fire door is not a simple door, but rather a partition that resembles a space.

If you are on this side of the door, then no matter what methods you use, you will not be able to find out what is behind the door.

"Next time."

Since Warfarin did not stop at the entrance to the eleventh floor, the Doctor decided not to waste any more time there and continued upwards.

Then, the twelfth floor was just like the eleventh floor.

Unchanging scenery, unchanging content, unchanging trajectory.

Warfarin seemed completely unconcerned about what lay behind the eleventh and twelfth floors, never even pausing for a moment, simply climbing straight toward her goal.

Such a person can be described positively as having a strong sense of purpose, or negatively as being utilitarian.

However, from today's perspective, utilitarianism may not necessarily be a bad word.

So, what about the thirteenth floor?

The doctor turned the corner of the stairs and looked up.

stopped.

Everything stopped here, from the staircase leading to the traces of Warfarin.

It seems this is the end of this stairwell.

The doctor stepped onto the last step and stood in front of the door on the thirteenth floor.

The huge fire door was tightly closed.

The doctor raised his pickaxe and gently pried open a gap with the tip to test the safety.

Judging from the scent left by Warfarin, she did indeed disappear behind that door.

However, when the doctor pried open the door, the scent of warfarin dissipated like smoke blown away by a strong wind.

No, saying it dissipated might not be accurate.

The word "cover up" would be more appropriate here.

The scent of warfarin was masked by an even stronger odor.

"Hiss...this taste?"

The sweet fragrance that seeped out from the crack in the door, almost frantically, filled the doctor's nostrils and rushed into his brain, stirring up his past memories.

"Honey cake, this is honey cake."

The doctor instantly realized the source of the smell and recalled the connection between himself and the smell.

"Ah... speaking of which, this is the thirteenth floor, and the thirteenth floor is the cafeteria."

It dawned on him.

Could it be that Warfarin came to the thirteenth floor just to have a meal?

But who's cooking?

This incredibly familiar aroma of honey cakes is something that not everyone can recreate.

In an instant, the few candidates belonging to the Rhodes Island cafeteria came to mind for the Doctor.

Horn Peak, Gummy, Vulcan... who else?

No, no.

Besides them, there are other people on duty in Rhodes Island's cafeteria.

Moreover, among those selected for duty, there were even operators who were particularly skilled at baking honey cakes.

why?

Because that person baked apple pie before baking honey cake.

"Isn't an apple pie without apples just a honey cake?"

Subconsciously, the doctor uttered those words.

Yes, yes.

He remembered.