Rhodes Island does not exist.

Page 94

After all, if one cannot speak, one can only choose the method that is closest to language in terms of directness.

"You mean... there's something outside the door, right?"

Enduring excruciating pain, the doctor gradually withdrew his right hand, no longer approaching the small door leading to the sixth floor.

As he retracted his right arm, the pain subsided.

In other words, the lavender did sense something, and it was right outside the door.

Thank you segment.

Thank you to science communicator szy for the monthly pass, thank you.

Chapter 159, Chapter 158: The World That Was Once Real

Originium Arts is a delicate art.

It supported the entire Terra, allowing Terra to transition directly from barbarism to civilization.

Many scholars have pondered where Originium came from and why it brought about disease.

But in the end, they all died in the process.

Perhaps some of them were geniuses who could understand and comprehend it, or perhaps it was precisely because they understood that they left this world.

The dilapidated wooden door opened before the doctor's eyes.

Or rather, it melted.

At the time, the doctor was still thinking about how to deal with the danger outside the door, and what he should do the moment he opened the door to counter any possible emergencies.

After all, he couldn't ignore the lavender's warning.

But the door will not consider his opinion, nor will it wait for him to come and open it himself.

So it directly and brutally tore off that grand curtain, and then displayed the ugliness of the sixth floor to the doctor like a scroll painting.

This used to be the location of a hot water room, but the terrain has completely changed.

The solid walls crumbled and collapsed, turning into soft mud. The solid ground churned and turned into a rotting swamp.

"Gulu..."

The three cabinets placed against the wall, along with the metal cans they carried, sank askew into the swamp that had formed on the ground. The Doctor was not spared either; before he could even react, his feet were already submerged in the swamp, preparing to become food for this level.

"Damn it."

Reaching out his hands and placing them on the edge of the lower cabinet, which was sinking more slowly, the doctor used this closest external force to pull his legs out, then lifted the empty can on the table and stood on the cabinet.

His feet, covered in mud, felt incredibly heavy.

But there was no time for him to feel his discomfort, because if he stayed in the room even a second longer, he would be swallowed by the swamp.

Although the doctor knew in his heart that he could be resurrected in Room 402 even if he died, he also knew in his heart that he would never accept such a humiliating way of dying.

The body gradually sinks into the mud, and then the eyes, ears, mouth and nose are all blocked by the flowing mud, eventually suffocating to death—whoever wants to die like that can have it.

"hurry up!"

Finding a foothold on the sinking cabinet, the doctor leaped out of the swamp-like boiler room with a burst of strength in his calves.

The pain in my right arm was as intense as a wave.

But this is no longer the time to focus on such things.

"boom."

Losing his balance, the body shifted slightly during the bounce, failing to land on both feet, and the doctor landed directly on the ground outside the door in a side-lying position.

But the situation here is only worse than in the hot water room.

Previously, because the ground inside the door had turned into a swamp, the doctor hadn't paid much attention to the scene outside. However, when he leaped out of the room, he realized that he had simply entered another hell.

"Ugh..."

Weak, panting breaths rang in the doctor's ears.

The doctor's gaze instantly shifted to the ground beneath him.

That was a face.

Or rather, a face where all the organs are out of place.

Eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

The organs that should have been on a human face were now flowing across the uneven ground like decorations on a carpet, and the spot where the doctor had just landed was a mouth that was constantly opening and closing, with complex and eerie sounds gushing out from deep within its throat.

At this moment, the doctor finally understood.

The sixth floor now is a completely different sight from the sixth floor when he first came in.

Perhaps this place had already transformed into this state before I even stepped onto the sixth floor; it was just wearing a normal veneer to lower visitors' guard. Otherwise, Lavender wouldn't have warned the doctor when the elevator doors opened.

Looking back now, lavender was definitely the right choice.

"Ah...uh..."

The cries of agony rose and fell, forming a continuous chorus on the sixth floor.

The crates, which were originally stacked high like a wall, have now been transformed. Crimson tissue fluid and fine, mushy flesh are seeping out from the gaps between the once-clean crates, connecting the stacked crates together like a waterfall, turning them into a wall of flesh and blood.

At this moment, the sixth floor looks like the inside of some kind of creature.

The blood and flesh flowing everywhere, the walls as sticky as mud, the ground covered with faces—everything here was challenging the doctor's precarious cognition and sanity.

But he knew he wouldn't go crazy again.

The pain brought on by lavender overshadowed his intense emotions, gradually numbing him.

"Although I am very grateful to you."

Gritting his teeth, the doctor climbed up from the uneven ground covered with eyes, ears, noses, and mouths, gripped his pickaxe, and took a step forward.

“But this pain is just too unbearable.” Sweat dripped from his forehead, falling onto the floor where he opened and closed his mouth. “If it weren’t for our friendship, I think I would definitely be angry.”

"So next time, please be a little quieter—"

The sound was stretched out instantly.

Like a shadow under a streetlamp.

The doctor thought that if he just got up and ran forward, he would find a way out of this place or a way to solve this strange situation.

But he was wrong.

From the moment he stepped into this sixth floor, he had become the prey here.

All the opportunities he could get were merely the hunter's amusement or insignificant pity while toying with his prey.

And these feelings of pity and amusement are ultimately just appetizers, nothing more than a diversion.

"boom!"

From the stacked crates overflowing with blood and flesh, countless withered hands reached out.

The shape of those hands was extremely similar to the strange thing he encountered when he was riding the elevator down from the thirteenth floor.

Unfortunately, this wasn't an elevator, and he had no chance to resist.

Dozens of powerful hands grabbed the doctor's clothes and limbs, dragging him irresistibly toward the other side of the crate.

When he reached the sixth floor, he wondered how he could climb over the crates to get to the other side.

And now, these oddities have fulfilled his desires.

"Well--!"

The deeper he was dragged into the wall of flesh and blood made of crates, the more hands reached out to the doctor from all sides.

Those withered hands now resembled the feeding slugs on the eighth floor, covering almost every part of the doctor's body, even his mouth was blocked, preventing him from making any sound.

Perhaps this time it really is over.

Despite the persistent stinging pain in his right arm, the doctor gradually calmed down.

Until he heard a voice.

"We're not too late, are we?"

Chapter 160, Chapter 159: Good Morning, Rhodes Island

There are often strange things in the world: some people you live with and have a close relationship with, but you never confide in them or tell them your true feelings; while others you just met and immediately feel like old friends, revealing all your secrets to each other as if in confession.

— Ivan Turgenev, *A Sportsman's Sketches*

A profound despair enveloped the doctor.

He had thought he would die, that he would die so simply.

Although those arms appeared withered and thin, they possessed a strength that the doctor could not resist. If he chose to resist, the outcome would likely be far more devastating than if he submitted.

Five arms tightened around his right leg, and six arms tightened around his left leg. The parts bound by thorns were also restrained as if by iron clamps, and he was dragged into the abyss without warning.

The crates stacked into a wall now seemed alive, opening up a passage and creating space for the Doctor and his arms, widening a dark red secret hole. As the Doctor was pulled further in, the crates that had been opened earlier returned to their original positions, as if nothing had happened.

At that moment, the doctor realized that this sixth floor might have already looked like this when he first set foot here.

It disguises itself as harmless, but in reality, it is eyeing every visitor who enters with predatory intent, ready to open its bloodthirsty maw at any moment.

"I really don't know what I looked like when I came here to collect supplies before."

The doctor felt a surge of admiration.

Perhaps this place hadn't become like this back then.

This forbidden cave was probably taken over by monsters and turned into this state not long after my past self died, and this place is probably the interior of those monsters.

What was originally the sixth floor has now been transformed into a bizarre sight, along with parts of the building itself. While such an idea might seem a bit far-fetched, in a place like Rhodes Island, perhaps there are only unimaginable things, not impossible ones.

As the ancients said, you can't act according to common sense on Rhodes Island.

Although I don't know which ancient person said it.

But if I had to put it in perspective, it's possible that I once possessed the ability to enter and exit this place seven times. After all, it would be naive to think that scarce resources like food and fresh water could be taken so easily.

However, if the sixth floor wasn't like this before, but only became like this later, then my future survival resources will be in serious trouble.

"Death is a small matter; the inability to survive is a big matter."

Such an idea came to the doctor's mind.

If he cannot solve the problem of survival resources, then he will be forced into a cycle of starving or dying of thirst and then being resurrected, or else... he will have no choice but to eat those strange creatures.

Ultimately, are the bizarre really edible?

The doctor's body was gradually dragged into the pitch-black depths by countless withered hands, while the lavender, which had transformed into an alarm, continued to warn the doctor of the danger around him with its stinging sensation.

But the pain was no longer important to him.

Yes, it doesn't matter.

After all, he was well aware of his fate.

In this inescapable mutated nest, he had no choice but to wait for his life to end and be resurrected in 402.

until--

"Boom."

A dull thud suddenly came, accompanied by a slight vibration.

For some reason, the doctor felt that the vibrations did not come from the peristalsis of the nest cavity, but were caused by external factors.

Is someone outside?

No, that seems highly unlikely.

Having been on Rhodes Island for so long, I have never seen a living person other than Specter.

So, is it strange?