He scanned his surroundings as he walked down the hallway.
Snow-white wallpaper. Flickering lights.
The nurses ran about conversing in a strange language among themselves, while inside the rooms, patients lay slumped over. The nameplates bearing the patients' names were smudged beyond recognition.
'It's not that someone erased them. It seems they melted away on their own.'
Had they been like this from the beginning? Or had the victims, trapped here as patients, melted away like this as they slowly died?
If forced to decide, he judged the latter possibility to be much higher. The degree of melting differed; it didn't seem like they had been in that state from the start. If this hypothesis was correct, the search would clearly become much easier. Simply locating a legible name and moving accordingly would drastically reduce the time needed.
It wasn't information that needed to be hidden. Ian immediately shared the hypothesis that had come to mind with Cecilia. She listened with a serious expression and soon nodded.
"Good thinking. Let's try it."
With her consent, they continued their exploration of the sixth floor.
But not a single patient with a normal name could be found. The best there was was a half-melted name reading "Gim Minsu." His mental state wasn't intact either, so he wasn't worth taking along.
They moved to the next floor and repeated the same process several times over. Seventh floor, eighth floor, ninth floor... When they eventually reached the twelfth floor, the two sat down on a bench to rest.
"Huu...."
He wanted to smoke, but his throat stung, so he gave up. If he smoked in his current condition, it was obvious he would feel an agonizing pain as if his throat were truly burning. Even so, to at least set the mood, he placed a cigarette between his lips and fiddled with it.
'As long as I follow the rules, there's no danger of being killed. What I need to watch out for are the doctors and starvation.'
Since he was not a patient, he couldn't recklessly put food into his mouth in this hospital. Stealing their meals was impossible too, and if he bought food at the convenience store, an internist would appear... In reality, the only thing he had to eat was his own blood.
He could quench his thirst with this, but he couldn't fill his stomach. As time passed, it was obvious he would suffer from hunger.
So he had to hurry. This break would be the last one; the plan was to climb to the sixty-sixth floor without stopping. He had already finished talking with Cecilia.
'I want to minimize combat if possible. It's a situation where there's no telling what might happen if I picked a needless fight....'
If the opponent showed hostility first, or if the situation was truly unavoidable, he would use magic without question. Otherwise, there was no need to pull the trigger first.
Judgment, quick and cautious.
Employing force only when absolutely necessary was ideal.
"Mage Ian."
While he was thinking, Cecilia spoke to him. Ian turned his head to look down at her.
"What."
"Once we escape this place, I'd like to talk."
"...Talk?"
When Ian asked with a furrowed brow, she nodded.
"The reason I came to Korea. I'd like a consultation."
"...Is it something related to mages?"
"Yeah."
"It's not because of the Eighth Book of Moses, is it?"
"...? Why that grimoire all of a sudden?"
Cecilia blinked and asked back.
"That one's managed by the Arabs. The only grimoire the Vatican has is the Book of Pope Honorius."
The Book of Pope Honorius.
It wasn't a very famous grimoire, but it was fairly well-known among mages. A book containing magic for summoning angels, holy magic, and methods of employing pure lumps of divinity devoid of intelligence for combat.
Ian had personally researched it in case he ever encountered it, but he had lost interest in it the moment the Eighth Book of Moses was destroyed and he became unable to possess an ordinary grimoire.
'Come to think of it, the Eighth Book of Moses was managed by the Arabs?'
He had naturally assumed it was Christian-related and stored in the Vatican, but it seemed that wasn't the case. If so, there was a high possibility that the Sixth and Seventh Books were also slumbering in the Arab world.
He didn't think fanatics would fly over seeking revenge for their brothers, but he couldn't rule out the possibility that fanatics who learned the whereabouts of the grimoires might come looking. Once they escaped the hospital, he felt he should prepare in advance.
'So much to do.'
He hadn't planned on enjoying his leisure for long anyway, but it seemed he would have to end his vacation much sooner than expected.
To do that, escaping the hospital came first. Ian rubbed his sore throat and stood up.
"I'll entertain the conversation. So let's focus on escaping."
"Yeah. Got it. Let's go to the thirteenth floor."
Cecilia adjusted her grip on her dagger and stepped forward to take the lead.
The twelfth floor had already been fully searched. Now it was time to head back up.
Bing.
They boarded the elevator and pressed the button marked 13th floor hard. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the floor and got off, quickly checking the nameplates hanging beside the hospital room doors.
The thirteenth floor was a bust.
On the fourteenth floor, they found one name that was somewhat melted, but it had no brain, so they gave up.
Fifteenth floor, bust.
The sixteenth floor was marked as the psychiatric ward, so they didn't bother going.
Seventeenth and eighteenth floors, busts in a row.
The nineteenth floor was the intensive care unit, so they ignored it.
And the twentieth floor.
Bing.
Beyond the smoothly opening doors, a familiar sight came into view. Ian walked down the hallway, pounding his slightly numb thigh with his fist after searching without rest. Cecilia followed behind him and whispered.
"There are more nurses than the other floors."
"..."
She was right. Ian didn't answer because his throat was throbbing; he simply nodded and tapped his grimoire lightly with his finger.
Nurses existed on the other floors too. However, their numbers weren't particularly high.
The total number of them encountered while moving was three. Even counting the nurses sitting and reading charts, there were at most two or three.
However, on the twentieth floor, they hadn't taken more than a few steps before they had already run into five nurses.
"Patient, please come to your senses. We're going into additional surgery soon."
"Please just check on the patient over there. If he says he won't take his medicine again, just tear his throat open and feed it to him."
"We've got a bleeding patient over here! Bring some centipedes, gauze, and maggots!"
He let out a groan watching the nurses running about with perfect discipline.
Their conversations were anything but ordinary, yet their attitude toward the patients themselves was no different from real nurses. Despite their grotesque appearances, they were pouring their all into nursing duties.
That didn't mean it was safe. There was no guarantee that their prescriptions helped improve conditions, and looking at the patients on other floors, they were far more likely to worsen them. Furthermore, there was no guarantee that their attitude toward patients was the same as their attitude toward "unwelcome guests."
He didn't let his guard down. So he could respond at any moment, his finger rested on the trigger and his hand gripped the grimoire. As long as he didn't lose focus, there was no need to worry about being overwhelmed.
'The reverse targeting is still operational. It will break if it warns me about two more times, but for now, this is enough.'
Its performance was certainly reliable when it came to detecting threats in advance. He couldn't rely on it blindly, but he could trust it.
"Let's move without provoking the nurses needlessly. And the fact that there are many nurses likely means this floor is different from the others."
"I was thinking the same. Floors with almost no nurses had no survivors, and places with a few had slightly more. Then here is...."
"...the place with the highest probability of finding an intact one. Let's go."
Shhhrp.
Ian unfolded his grimoire and walked down the hallway. Cecilia stuck right beside him as if guarding him and kept watch on their surroundings.
After doing so for some time, Cecilia's eyes, which had been checking nameplates, suddenly widened.
"There!"
She grabbed Ian's sleeve and gestured.
"The name is written clearly."
"..."
Ian turned his head toward where Cecilia was pointing.
[%@%^][!#$%^]
[Gim%!^61][Bak Heesu]
A four-person ward. Among the melted, gooey names of the patients, one remained perfectly legible. The two immediately approached the room and peered inside through the window attached to the door.
"...Can't see well because of the curtain."
"According to the bed arrangement, it's the right window-side bed. Are we going in?"
Cecilia asked, raising her pistol. Ian nodded without a moment's hesitation.
"Of course. We went through all that trouble to find an intact person; there's no reason to hesitate now."
"Are you going to hide your face?"
"Is there anything to hide?"
"...Not really."
"Then we have no choice. I'm not fond of it either, but there's no other way besides revealing ourselves. We'll just have to make him keep his mouth shut later."
"No violence."
"I'll handle it the mage way."
"...That makes me more anxious."
Ignoring Cecilia's muttering, Ian opened the hospital room door.
At the same time, the patients lying still went into convulsions.
"Aaaaaaaack!!!"
"Todaytheyputcentipedesinmyheadandmaggotsaredevouringmybodyandhemorrhageandhighfeverarerebirthingmeasentirelynewspecies."
"..."
Someone was screaming, someone muttered like a lunatic, and someone scratched their body frantically with eyes and mouth sewn shut.
In the center of such chaos, only one bed was intact. Ian immediately walked into the room and drew back the curtain of the right window-side bed.
Swish!
When the white curtain was moved aside, a middle-aged man lying on the bed came into view. He had his eyes closed as if sleeping, but Ian instantly realized he was pretending to be asleep.
This was much better than screaming. He looked down at the man feigning snores and checked to see if there were any deformities on his body.
Fortunately, his outward appearance was intact. At least there were no signs of surgery. Meaning the doctors hadn't laid their hands on him.
The very act of feigning sleep meant his mind was intact as well.
To this extent, he was a patient who sufficiently met the conditions.
The moment he reached that conclusion, Ian pressed the muzzle of his gun against the man's forehead. He heard Cecilia's startled voice, but he ignored her and opened his mouth.
"I've figured out you're pretending to sleep. You're not a nurse or doctor, so open your eyes and answer. The moment you scream, I'll pull the trigger, so keep your responses as brief as possible."
There was a reason he came on this strong from the start. Even for Ian, he wouldn't shove a gun in an innocent person's face without cause.
'I've confirmed he's an intact patient, but that doesn't mean I can blindly trust him. We need to talk.'
What if this man was a lunatic patient pretending to be intact? Could such a possibility be completely ruled out?
No, it couldn't. Therefore, he needed to choose every action carefully. That was why he brought out the gun first. Not only to respond quickly, but to firmly establish the dominant position in the conversation.
Press.
With an icy expression, Ian pushed the muzzle harder and moved his lips.
"Answer."
"..."
Feeling the gun pressing against his forehead, the man slowly opened his closed eyes and met Ian's gaze. He said nothing for a moment, but upon confirming the grimoire in Ian's hand and Cecilia holding a cross-shaped dagger, he smirked.
"A mage and a heretic inquisitor? Now that's a bizarre combination."