The next day, I continued to run errands for Lorna. My first stop was a place I was reluctant to visit: Doctor Amelia’s clinic.
The clinic gave me a chilling feeling; I wouldn’t come back if I could help it. If my sedatives weren’t depleted, and if Amelia wasn’t the only person I knew with knowledge related to biological matters, I wouldn’t be here.
However, I visited during the day. Upon entering, I was surprised to find the clinic quite busy, with many patients waiting in the hall. They all appeared to be wealthy, judging by their attire: men wore vests with shirts and black pants, while ladies were in colorful, elegant dresses.
Despite the clinic’s unassuming exterior, the interior was surprisingly luxurious and spacious, with complete tools. The number of patients suggested it had some reputation.
It made sense; if there were no patients, such a large clinic with so much research equipment, materials, and specimens couldn’t possibly be sustained. The combined cost must be astronomical.
One thing struck me as strange. The last time Veia rescued me, she fought with Samantha, a nurse at the clinic, damaging a part of the clinic hall.
The battle then was fierce. The stairs were broken, a wall in a room on the upper floor collapsed, even the railings fell off, and Veia had left a large crater in the floor.
But upon arriving today, there was no sign of damage. The floor tiles were as smooth as mirrors, the stairs were intact, and even the third floor, where the major battle had taken place, was perfectly normal.
Had they repaired it so quickly? What was even stranger was that there was no trace of repair work. The floor tiles, the railings, and the wall patterns were all seamlessly connected, showing no sign of damage. What kind of repair crew could be so skilled as to make it look brand new?
Upon entering, I felt a bit lost. My initial plan was to find Amelia right away, but she was nowhere to be seen. There were other patients in the hall, and I couldn’t just call out for her.
I wanted to ask a medical staff member for directions, but there wasn’t a single person in white clothing in the hall. Instead, at the front desk, there was a blonde mannequin dressed in a nurse’s uniform.
Its mechanical mouth was cracked open to its chin, and it had ball joints on its arms. If not for these obvious features, it looked remarkably lifelike.
What kind of strange taste is this? While the mannequin was quite cute, was it appropriate to have such a toy at a clinic’s front desk? Or was it just some kind of mascot?
Just then, a patient walked up to the counter. His right arm was in a cast, suspended in front of him, and there were bloodstains on his person. “Nurse, could you please ask Doctor Amelia if she’s ready?”
Huh? Who was he talking to? There was no one behind the counter, only a mannequin. And speaking of the mannequin, didn’t it look somewhat familiar?
“Ah, yes, I already have an appointment and have been waiting for a long time. If possible, could you allow me to be seen a bit earlier by paying extra?” the man said, sounding a bit impatient.
I watched him inexplicably talking to a mannequin, and it seemed like he even received a response. Soon, he said gratefully, “Okay, room four, right? I’ll head there now.”
With that, he hurried up the stairs and went upstairs. I didn’t understand who he was talking to the entire time, and everyone else seemed unfazed, showing no abnormal reaction to his behavior.
Having encountered many strange situations since I transmigrated, I deduced that there must be someone invisible behind the counter, possibly a receptionist, whom others could see.
The problem was, all these patients found it normal, and I seemed to be the only one who couldn’t see. Was their Spirit Vision higher than mine?
I remembered a fairy tale I read as a child, “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” It was said that only fools couldn’t see the clothes, yet everyone claimed they could.
Now, I was in a state of confusion. Was it that I couldn’t see, or were others actually pretending not to? As I pondered this question, the mannequin suddenly moved.
Holy crap! I wasn’t mistaken; it really moved. Its head tilted slightly, and it seemed to be staring at me. Its eyes, seemingly carved from black gemstones, fixed on me, like staring into an abyss.
However, a moving mannequin wasn’t that terrifying in itself. I had seen too many strange things. A mannequin moving could easily be due to someone controlling it from behind or some internal mechanism.
What truly frightened me was an indescribable aura emanating from the mannequin, filling me with dread. It felt similar to the feeling I had yesterday when I was being spied on by the Black Silk Monster, and also somewhat like the eight-legged monster that had chased us earlier.
It was a terrifying, higher-tier predator’s gaze upon its prey, but the feeling came and went quickly, vanishing soon after. The mannequin, however, continued to stare at me.
It stood up and walked towards me. I observed it closely. There were no strings, no signs of human manipulation, no mechanical sounds from within its body, and not even a trace of Magic Power’s spiritual light or an Undead’s malevolence.
This was truly supernatural. A mannequin was walking towards me, and it wasn’t even a ghost. At least, I couldn’t see any malevolence. This felt even more terrifying. I would have preferred it to be a ghost.
The surrounding patients looked at the mannequin turning from behind the counter with bewildered expressions. Yes, they could all see it, but none of them showed surprise or shock. Did all these patients find a walking mannequin to be perfectly normal?
The mannequin, dressed in a nurse’s uniform, stopped in front of me, standing still like a real nurse. Its mechanical mouth moved as it began to speak, but all I could hear was a creaking sound of wood rubbing together.
“What… what do you want?” I asked nervously. I never imagined that a mannequin could scare me this much.
The mannequin seemed confused and tilted its head again. This posture felt familiar. I remembered Doctor Amelia’s little nurse, Samantha, who wore a similar nurse’s uniform, with the same golden, slightly curly, shoulder-length hair.
And I had seen this head-tilting action before. Her neck seemed unable to support its own weight, tilting completely to one side, as if her cervical spine were broken. It looked quite eerie.
That night, after my transaction with Doctor Amelia and as I was heading downstairs, I passed by a ward on the third floor. Samantha was in there, tending to a group of very peculiar patients, hidden in the darkness, tilting her head.
At the time, I wondered why she was sitting still while caring for patients, and her tasks seemed suspicious. Most importantly, her sitting posture then was very similar, almost identical, to the mannequin’s posture at the front desk just now.
Just then, I felt an invisible, soft substance wrap around my entire body.
