Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

The sound of the bells rang particularly clearly on the quiet first floor.

Passing by the treatment room, then two consultation offices, and then the bathroom and washing area, the smell became stronger as we went deeper.

"How much blood did they lose?" The red plastic bucket was filled with red liquid, which dripped onto the blood surface and created ripples.

Mori Yuesa took a few steps back and looked up.

Tick, tick.

A corpse was hung upside down on a fan, and the sound of drops of blood came from the deep knife wound on its neck.

She's a nurse.

Her entire face was covered in wax, which, after cooling, became a thick wax shell - in addition, her body was also covered with a lot of white wax.

Mori Yuesha muttered, "It should make a 'bang bang' sound if you knock on it."

Arrietty didn't want to discuss with Mori Yuesa whether dead faces would make banging noises.

"I say, I'm a little hungry. When are we going back?" The impatient fairy kicked his legs, grabbed Mori Yuesha's earlobe, stretched out his head, opened his mouth and bit her.

A calm 'oops'.

"You're just pretending. You don't feel any pain at all." The goblin rolled his eyes and stood up from the girl's shoulder. He sniffed around: "Huh...? I smell a stronger smell of blood - over there."

Over there by the stairs.

"Second floor?"

Running to the stairs, Mori Yuesa raised her hands, cupped them around her lips, and looked at the dark floor with excitement.

It’s over, and it’s time to start again.

Arrietty reacted instantly, reached out and covered her ears - the next moment, the girl's loud shout pierced the entire building.

"The cultists on the second floor!"

"I'm Nobita Nobi!"

"You are surrounded by me!"

There were twenty-four hours in the day when Arrietty wanted to poison her.

…………

……

Daisuke stumbled and pushed open a door, slipped in very quickly, and locked it.

Blood oozed out from between his fingers.

He was stabbed in the abdomen.

He couldn't hide it, and the injury would only get worse over time. Apart from the gun with a few rounds left in his hand and the dagger he had used long ago, he had no other weapons.

However, the lunatics outside are still looking for him.

I thought it was just a report of an accidental death, and because it was a nursing home, the police station specially sent three police officers to the door at this time when they were short of staff - the result.

Two hours.

Only I am still alive.

——The leader of the team, his superior, a generous man who always liked to treat others and whose alcohol tolerance was even worse than his wife, was splashed all over his face and body with a pot of boiling wax at the entrance to the second floor.

Then, the head of a wooden hammer filled with nails chiseled open the back of his head.

His howls of burning and suffocation came to an abrupt end.

——After shooting and killing the three murderers, my colleague and I found the survivors in the hospital.

Two elderly people in wheelchairs.

They took advantage of the time when he went to the stairs to observe and took him...

When he came back, the young guy had no skin left on his body.

Damn it! !

Daisuke took out his cell phone and turned it on. In the darkness, the man's haggard face was covered with sweat.

no signal.

Damn...

It's too dangerous here.

Weird patients, crazy nurses, and a cult whose leader is unknown - they are collecting human blood and skin, and the human cocoons wrapped in wax, and the terrifying candlelight reflecting the pious yet evil faces.

In the past, they should have been all patients and elderly people...

What on earth are they going to do? The world is already in chaos, isn't it?!

pat, pat, pat.

Footsteps suddenly sounded.

The man was silent, his hands shaking as he gripped the gun handle, his heart beating wildly. By this point, he could no longer feel the pain in his abdomen.

If I had known earlier, I would have known earlier…

I went to the shooting training several times...

An ordinary office worker who occasionally goes out on field missions. Before this, he had never even carried a gun...

Is it going to be the end?

pat.

The footsteps stopped in front of the door.

"The fuel of the candle, the fuel of the candle..."

"Melting in the darkness,"

"Shell..."

The man became more and more nervous. The person outside the door seemed to be sure that he was hiding here and was using a candlestick or some other sharp metal to gently scratch the wall.

Crash...crash.

suddenly.

A girl's energetic voice came up from downstairs, and her powerful voice sounded very much like an idol group on the Internet - Hello everyone! We are...

“…Cultists!!”

"You are surrounded by me!!"

Daisuke: ...

There are two cults in this building?

The man thought about it, and finally breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the footsteps going away outside the door. Now, he could no longer care about other things.

While that lunatic is being led away...

I have to get out of here quickly.

Holding his stomach, Daisuke stood up straight and put his ear to the door and listened for a while. In the silent ward, flames gradually lit up one after another...

Lighting up the man's face.

Turn back slowly.

Five elderly people in hospital gowns held the candles in their hands carefully; the look in their eyes when they looked at him was filled with endless longing and piety.

"The Candle Girl needs you."

Daisuke raised the gun in his hand tremblingly and shouted desperately: "Crazy! Are you, are you all crazy?!"

As they gathered around, the ferocious and eager faces of the old men became clearer and clearer.

Pale skin and body as thin as paper.

The old woman leading the group looked embarrassed.

"Sorry... I'm so sorry..." The woman bent down apologetically, rolled up her sleeves, and revealed her arms as dry as firewood.

It was covered with fresh knife wounds and needle marks.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... There's not enough blood..."

"I beg you…"

Daisuke clenched the cold gun in his hand painfully and pulled the trigger with his index finger.

Chapter 86 Cult

"Power beyond that of ordinary people is called transcendence."

Gods exist in this world!

On the third floor, there was no electricity, and thick multi-layered curtains were hung. This sanatorium building with many windows was terribly dark even during the day.

Short, thick white candles replaced the light source above their heads. The hunchbacked old men were like tamed dogs, their eyes following the woman who was speaking in the group.

The backlit floor should have been somewhat chilly, but it was instead stuffy because of the candlelight. The woman in the center of the crowd was wearing a long headscarf—it looked like a robe made by modifying a nurse's uniform and sewing it together.

The world is about to start to go into chaos, and everything has to be made from local materials.

"The God of Candles told me! He has given us an oracle!" The old woman's wrinkled face was splashed with dots of solidified wax. As she spoke, the wrinkles on her face pushed and squeezed each other, making it seem that this aged face was extremely busy.

It looks a bit like the crowds surging in the station during rush hour.

"The God of Candlelight needs a lot of blood! The suffering souls sealed by wax!" She danced with joy, holding the candle, and the flames flew through the air: "The sacrifices to the gods require more!"

"More!"

"Lady Candle Girl!"

"Show your miracle, Candle Girl!"

“There aren’t enough patrol officers coming in!”

The old woman called the Candle Lady had crowded wrinkles on her face and eyes as gloomy as a vulture's. She heard the whispers of the believers and glanced around fiercely.

“Very good…very good.” She raised the candle and looked around: “The miracle is revealed to you right here!”

The thin lips opened and closed, speaking a language that was completely incomprehensible, and the black and yellow teeth moved in and out. In the swaying candle wick, a faint air current gently swirled.

boo.

The flame jumped.

The white candle seemed to be placed in the hands of a magician, and the melted wax flowed down the old woman's palm, wrapping her fingers, palm, and forearm layer by layer. However, the flame was still burning brightly.

After her palms, which could not feel any heat, were leveled, the Candle Girl demonstrated the "miracle" in her hands. As she passed by the believers one by one, she stuck very close to them: there were old people in hospital gowns, elderly nurses, and even a doctor who was obviously younger.

Everyone stared devoutly at the flame in the woman's palm.

It spontaneously combusts without roots, and within the embrace of old and dry fingers, it vigorously illuminates the darkness.

"This is a miracle..." an elderly man whispered to himself.

Yes, candles seem to have life.

The Candle Girl smiled sinisterly, opened her arms and shouted, "A miracle! Of course it is a miracle! The God of Candlelight has given me the ability to manipulate wax and fire. He will come and see us!"

"This world has gods!"

"And you..." The head turned, the vulture-like eyes were pitch black, and the old man's pious face was reflected in the firelight: "...and you will be the earliest believers of the God of Candlelight."

"Any oracle of candlelight."

Everyone knelt down slowly and said in unison: "We will obey."

"Any candlelight you need."

Everyone responded: "We will be satisfied."

"Anyone who blocks the candlelight."