U.S.
Washington
Deep White Biotechnology Headquarters
One hundred and forty-fourth floor secret care ward
Caroline was lying on the hospital bed, she tilted her head slightly and motioned the nurse to move the communicator away from her ear.
She was wearing a pale green hospital gown, and almost every exposed area was wrapped in white bandages. Beside her, the testing instrument made a steady beeping sound.
She used to be so familiar with this voice. In front of Vincent's hospital bed, she was there to handle official business and talk to him who was unconscious. When Vincent's mermanization was not so serious, she would even sleep in his hospital bed. beside.
That voice had accompanied her for so many hours, but now, she heard it again—only this time, the instrument was detecting her own physiological state.
Caroline turned her head sideways, stared at the drop of liquid falling in front of the bed, and sneered.
This contorted her haggard face.
"...you should rest well, Caroline, even Vincent wouldn't want to see you like this..."
A false voice chattered by her bedside. Andre Braham, Deep White's COO and VP, is expressing concern for Caroline with just the right amount of concern.
Compared with the young and handsome Vincent Sivers, this middle-aged man with a slightly fatter and receding hairline does not have much presence in front of the media, although he is already working at Deep White. for nearly twenty years. Under the eccentric and domineering Vincent, he was like a rabbit made of rubber, never making any noise, he was so harmless and banal, so when Caroline was the first in front of the hospital bed When I saw him, I even thought it was a little funny.
"Vincent Sivers is very ill."
Caroline spoke hoarsely.
"Uh, yes, of course..."
There was no dissatisfaction on Andre's face who was interrupted by Caroline. He rubbed his hands together, still smiling.
…
Caroline didn't continue to speak, she just stared at him with those cold eyes, until the mask-like smile on his face melted little by little like a shell of ice.
"I don't understand," Caroline continued, "Why is it you, sent Clive and others to sneak into Vincent's ward."
The moment her voice fell, the air in the entire ward seemed to freeze.
Andrei shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, and he seemed a little flustered.
"I do not understand what you are saying… "
However, Caroline ignored his defense at all, and continued speaking on her own.
"Actually, it's stupid, even with Vincent's real physical condition, it's still hard for you to reach your goals..."
"Caroline, I think you really need a break, you're starting to talk nonsense..."
"I can put you on the board of directors, I can even put you on the ceo and become a deep white person in power."
The next second, Caroline's words made Andre stay in front of the hospital bed.
"Alec Dannell, Ines Cresswell, oh yes and Ines Cresswell... I could easily convince them to vote, they've been old acquaintances of mine, I mean, Vincent's old acquaintances, without me, it's hard for you to get around them..."
"Whoa-"
The sound of the stool being pushed away interrupted Caroline's self-talking conversation.
Andrei stood up, and he re-camouflaged that fake smile.
Obviously, Caroline's words did not make him have the intention to cooperate with her.
However, at the moment when he was about to leave the ward, Caroline's last words made him stop involuntarily.
"I can help become CEO, of course, I have one condition."
condition…
When Caroline mentioned the conditions, Andre's guard instantly disappeared. Yes, conditions, all transactions have conditions, and conditions are the premise of everything.
You will only know his sincerity when someone makes an offer.
Andrei turned his head, his seemingly mediocre and cowardly face now had a greed peculiar to a careerist.
"Caroline, I don't really like people testing me."
he said.
Caroline tried to laugh, but instead caused a series of coughs.
But she finally said her condition.
"—I need full disposition of Vincent Sivers."
…
U.S.
Kansas
Santa Maria Thanksgiving Hospital
Rand supported his head, grabbed the handrail by the wall with one hand, and slowly moved forward, enduring the dizziness and the feeling of vomiting caused by the dizziness.
It had been about two hours since the nightmarish explosion, and the wound on his head was bandaged, but it was only now that he had the strength to walk upright.
Doctors told him he had a mild concussion in his head from the impact at the very beginning.
Rand had never known that concussions were so uncomfortable before. Of course, he didn't complain, in general, he can be said to be the luckiest person in the explosion... The explosion that occurred during the day at work caused a lot of damage, except for the fire on the accident floor and the explosion In addition, glass and construction debris peeled off from the building's exterior wall also injured many passers-by. The hospital was full of the wounded groaning weakly because of the explosion. Nurses moved up and down the corridors like bees, treating the wounds as the wounded came in one after another...
The lights were bright, but under the groaning, the strong smell of blood and the smell of disinfectant, Rand only felt that the whole hospital was covered with this thick and sticky mist, which made him almost unable to even. breathed.
So, after recovering the most basic mobility, the only thing he wants to do is to get out of here, even if it is to take a breath outside...
But his little wish was destined to be unfulfilled.
After walking slowly for a short distance, a pair of cold hands rested on his shoulders.
"Rand Sivers?"
someone said to him.
Rand's ears buzzed, and it took him a moment to react, then he turned his head.
"Yes, I am."
He says.
Rand saw a pair of men and women in sharp black suits, both of them were expressionless, as if they had just come out of the wax museum.
They took their documents out of their arms and shook them before Rand's eyes.
"This is the FBI, and I think we have some things to talk about."
Ten minutes later, Rand and the two FBIs were sitting in the hospital's reception room.
The painful murmurs and fuss seemed to be isolated on the other side of the wall, which made Rand somewhat better, though the person sitting in front of him still made him reflexively nervous.
A familiar sense of panic gnawed at his sanity, and he felt himself getting more dizzy.
"… No, I don't think I've offended anyone lately... I mean, as far as I know, no."
Rand felt that his voice came from another world, and that there was another person in his body answering the question.
Why were those two people asking about the person he had been in contact with recently
Why did they ask him if he had a conflict with anyone
Rand wasn't stupid, and although he was dizzy, he sensed almost immediately the connection between the question and that nightmare bombing.
The bombing took place in the National Express, and if he hadn't rushed out of the office because he was worried about Vincent, he wouldn't have any chance to sit here and answer the two FBI's questions now.
"The detonator of that explosion was a package," the male FBI told Rand. "We checked the building's entry and exit registration, and there was only one package that entered the building, and it was addressed to Rand. That's you, Sivers."
Rand looked at him blankly, almost not understanding what he was talking about.
"You mean... I... I don't understand..."
"Someone is trying to kill you, Mr. Sivers."
The other FBI said.
"The explosives were fairly amateurish, but the package was full of nails and scraps of iron, some of which hit the gas pipes and caused the tragedy. But judging from the contents of the explosion, the package clearly had It is quite clear that the target is you. This is likely to be a revenge triggered by personal grudges... Mr. Sivers, please recall carefully, do you really not have any omissions? There is a conflict with you people?"
…
And while Rand was grappling with the FBI, there were people on the other side of Kansas who were struggling.
Those were some Mexican drug dealers with distinct accents.
This day is not only a tragic day for the staff of "American Express", but also an unlucky day for them.
The building they were in was only half a block away from the one that exploded, and five minutes before the roar, they had a lot of "good stuff" ready to connect with the Kansas General Drug Distribution and deliver .
However, the explosion ruined everything.
After a few minutes, the police closed the whole street, and it was impossible for them to leave the building unobtrusively with the "goods".
In desperation, all they could do was curl up in this room like mice, swearing and observing the movement outside, and then wait for the situation to subside. However, as time went by, the fire in that building became bigger and bigger. Anyone can see that the martial law on this street will not be lifted in a short period of time.
With loads of drugs in hand, there are some people who decide to have some fun for themselves.
They sent low-level gang members out on guard, but in the suites inside the house, a rudimentary orgy was going on.
The dealer's leader, a burly Mexican, almost rudely pulled his "lover", a young dark-haired man, into the room.
He spilled some stuff on the tinfoil and shook it under the man's greedy gaze.
"You know what to do to be rewarded."
said the leader.
The black-haired youth's eyes were dull, but after seeing those things, his soul seemed to return to his body at once.
He took off all his clothes without any hesitation, picked out some items that could even be described as cruel from the perspective of bystanders, and inserted them into his body without any lubrication.
Blood quickly flowed down the black-haired man's thigh. In theory, it should be very painful, but in fact he just kept stuffing things in his face expressionlessly in this injured condition, and the carpet gradually soaked up. There was a thick pool of blood, and the air was filled with the sweet smell of human blood.
Facing this bloody scene, but the leader was untouched, he lay on the sofa and threw a big laugh at the black-haired man in front of him, shaking the white powder on the tin foil from time to time and then howling and laughing wildly.
"Hey, that's it, a little more, a little more, I'll reward you later babe..."
He continued to screech until a drop of viscous liquid suddenly fell on his naked belly.
"damn it-"
The leader cursed immediately, he frowned, and dipped a finger on the drop of liquid.
It was translucent, sticky, like someone's snot, quite disgusting.
And the point is, why is this stuff dripping down here
The leader raised his head in confusion—
On the shabby ceiling, the face of a scaly monster faced him.
Four bright red eyeballs dotted its face, and the reptile-like nictitating membrane swept across the huge eyeball from time to time.
…
After a moment of silence, the leader finally realized that what he saw was not an illusion, and he let out a scream.
"Ah-"
At the same time fell off the sofa.
"Strange, monster ah-"
He shook his legs on the floor in a panic, and instinctively stepped back, then took out the gun that once gave him an infinite sense of security from his pocket, raised it tremblingly and aimed it at the gun monster.
As if it was just a moment, the monster moved.
Compared to a creature that would appear in reality, it was more like a shadow, smooth, quiet, and silently approaching the boss. He could even smell the monster... the strong fishy smell... He saw its mouth grinning to the sides more clearly, its sharp teeth enough to make any child wake up crying in the middle of the night Come.
The leader's entire being was occupied with fear. He didn't even know when the more people who had fired the bullets rushed in through the door and they all heard the gunshots.
Of course, they all saw the monster crawling on the wall, with its head turned 180 degrees, staring at them with a very strange posture.
"Kill, kill it, that monster..."
Everyone instinctively pulled out guns and designed them because of the ugly and terrible appearance of the thing. The sofa, coffee table and even the curtains all shattered in the rain of bullets. This will definitely attract the attention of the police, but at this moment no one present has the intention to worry about this.
They were about to go mad at the monster that nimbly danced over their heads.
It moves even faster than a bullet, like a ghost. When the bullet shoots past, there are only traces of mucus left, and the monster itself has reached the blind spot of their sight.
Unable to say who was the first to fall, he only had time to feel a slippery wave behind him—
"boom… "
With a muffled sound, a man's head was rolled up by a blue tongue, which was pulled straight from his shoulder.
A large amount of blood spurted out of the broken artery like a fountain, and even those around him were not spared. Of course, they didn't have to worry about their clothes being drenched in blood soon, because it didn't take long for them to lose their lives.
Some had their heads crushed, some had their necks broken by their long, nimble tails, and some had their abdomens cut open by its sharp claws.
The fat intestines fell from their bodies like dead snakes.
The entire suite turned into hell in a short period of time.
Then the hell went quiet.
Munster slowly fell to the ground.
It looked silently at the only surviving dark-haired man in the room, his body was stuffed with those strange props, surrounded by broken corpses.
But he didn't realize it, and was curled up in a corner with illusory happiness.
In his hand was the piece of tinfoil that the boss had put on his hand as bait, and there was a sticky powder left on it that had been splashed with brains and blood.
The black-haired man was dripping and licking the tin foil with his tongue out like a dog.
Munster slid past slowly.
Its terrifying shadow fell on the black-haired man, but the latter just rolled his eyes and glanced at it vacantly.
"Go away, ugly."
Then he continued to immerse himself in the wonderful world of those powders.
"Ugly... eight strange... "
Munster tilted his head, repeating the word in confusion.
It stretched out its paws to ask the man to explain the word... just like Rand would always gently tell it what the incomprehensible human language meant. But before it touched him, his body began to cramp.
After a while the man's body twitched and fell to the ground, vomit pouring out of his mouth and plugging his windpipe.
he died.
Those "goods" that have just been traded have not had time to mix other things. Its purity is too high, and it is far from what this man should taste.
But that's not what Munster would care about.
It just cares a little about that word.
"Ugly."
It stuck its head out the window and smelled the air.
After finding its most beloved Rand, he would gently explain the meaning of the word to it.
Munster thought reassuringly.