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Passing through the circular reception area torn apart by sharp claws, the door at the other end slid open in response. The scene before them caused their footsteps to pause once more.
This was a massive space, resembling a multi-functional area combining a restaurant and a lounge. To the left was a long bar counter made of dark walnut wood, its surface wiped spotlessly clean. Behind it, shelves were neatly lined with bottles—Scotch single malt, French Bordeaux—a dazzling array. A retro-styled Italian espresso machine sat there, its silver casing reflecting the soft light.
An electronic advertising board stood in the corner, its screen still scrolling through French text: "Today's Special: Blue Mountain Coffee with French Crème Brûlée, enjoy a leisurely afternoon."
These words spoke of the bustle that once existed here, forming an absurd contrast with the deathly silence. In the dining area, over a dozen square tables with white tablecloths were set out. Some tables were empty, cutlery laid out neatly. Others retained the final traces of a panic-stricken flight. A half-drunk latte still had its latte art visible, though the cup was cold. A portion of Tiramisu sat with a silver fork still stuck in the cake.
Noah's gaze fell upon one particular table. An overturned cup had left a dark brown stain on the white cloth. A drop of coffee hung suspended from the edge of the table, trembling, and finally detaching to drip onto the polished floor.
Patter.
"It's too clean here, the complete opposite of the cable cars," Claire whispered, her eyes filled with confusion. "Where did everyone go?"
Noah did not answer. He walked to the table, reached out, and touched the puddle on the floor. There was still a faint, almost imperceptible warmth.
"The people fled in a hurry, and not long ago," he said calmly.
This tidy environment, so detached from the gore of the Lickers, gave Etienne a moment of respite. He adjusted his glasses. "In other words, there might still be survivors!"
Noah glanced at him. Survivors. In this hell, the word itself might represent another form of torture.
To the right was an entertainment area. A green snooker table stood in the center, balls scattered in an unfinished game. In the corner, several arcade machines sat with dark screens, looking like silent tombstones. Further back was a row of closed doors—staff lounges or dormitories.
"Search the area," Noah commanded.
The three fanned out. Claire pushed open the first door: a tidy single dormitory. Etienne opened the second: empty, with an open book on the table. Noah checked the innermost rooms. Everything was perfectly arranged. No blood. No struggle. No monsters.
It was as if the inhabitants had simply evaporated into the earth.
Passing through the lounge, a short corridor led to a final barrier. They stepped into a fully enclosed glass passage. The doors sealed, and the ceiling nozzles hissed, enveloping them in a pungent white mist of disinfectant. When the mist was sucked away, the door ahead opened to the facility's main zone.
It was a magnificent, massive circular structure. The dome was extremely high, giving the illusion of a futuristic cathedral. The ground was composed of hexagonal metal plates, cold and hard. Three massive electronic double doors, ten meters high, were distributed along the wall:
"T-Virus Breakthrough Zone"
"NE-Alpha Incubation Nest"
"Nemesis Fusion Chamber"
In the very center stood a massive white cylinder, seven meters in diameter. On one side was a verification pedestal with a triangular platform and three slots. On the other door, a strange symbol was painted in white—one Noah recognized from the map.
"The pedestal is the elevator to the core area. We need the 'keys' from those three zones to activate it," Noah explained. He turned to the other door. "And this one... is the 'Children's Paradise Area.'"
Etienne's body jolted. His wife and daughter were likely behind that door. He gripped his Beretta until his knuckles turned white. Noah led the way, with Claire and Etienne flanking him in an attack formation.
The curved door slid open to reveal a spacious elevator. They entered, and Etienne frantically pressed the button marked "B." The elevator began to descend with a faint hum.
When the doors opened again, they were stunned.
It really did look like a children's paradise. Cloud-shaped lampshades emitted a warm glow onto thick, colorful foam mats. The walls were covered in cartoons of giraffes and rabbits. The air smelled faintly of milk and cookies. Building blocks formed a half-finished castle; a pink unicorn plush toy lay in a corner.
It was a small piece of fake heaven carved out of the depths of Hell.
"Why are... these things here?" Noah muttered, deep confusion in his voice. This scale of arrangement was too exaggerated for a mere daycare.
They stepped onto the soft floor. From a room on the right, a faint rustling sound broke the silence—something bumping into a plastic toy.
Etienne's reason snapped. All his longing and fear transformed into a hoarse shout. "Sophia! Angela! Is that you?!"
The rustling stopped. A deathly silence returned. Just as Etienne was about to despair, a small figure cautiously peered out from the doorway. Following close behind, a larger figure emerged.
The two figures—mother and daughter—slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the light.
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