A newly accepted task always needed an explanation.
Although these holders of spear were enemies, Serie also wondered how they had turned into these living dead.
Allocating 10% of her mental power to the Mad Eater Witch, she once again entered idle mode.
Serie's main consciousness, like a receding tide, quietly returned to her main body.
As soon as her consciousness returned, she was met with that oppressive, pale white ceiling again.
Serie blinked, pondering inwardly—she needed to find an excuse to get Lynette to take her out.
Although Lynette had promised her before that she would take her to move around in the Control Bureau, she still couldn't rush it.
Lynette might be kind, but being able to secure a high position in the Control Bureau at such a young age meant she was no simple character.
If she appeared too eager, what if she aroused Lynette's suspicion…
Serie's heart sank.
Lynette was her only reliance here.
If even this piece of driftwood drifted away, she would truly sink to the bottom in the Control Bureau.
Serie leaned lazily against the headboard, her gaze aimlessly sweeping across the ceiling, finally, as if inadvertently, resting lightly on the monitor in the corner of the room.
She still had one ability point left, which now came in handy.
Serie added it to the 'Feigned Pity' ability in the Maiden branch.
While her charm slightly increased, Serie's understanding of feigning pity reached its peak.
However, Serie's charm was already very high, and this slight increase in charm was not enough to further boost her already A-rank charm attribute.
Serie stared at the red dot on the monitor for a few seconds, her small mouth almost imperceptibly pursed, then immediately returned to that bored expression.
She slowly shuffled off the bed, dragging her slippers, and painstakingly moved to the small metal table.
After sitting down, she first propped her chin in her hand, staring blankly at the empty tabletop for a while, her fingertips unconsciously drawing circles on the cold surface.
By the third circle, she seemed to finally be defeated by this extreme "fun," her shoulders slumped exaggeratedly, and she let out a long, drawn-out sigh:
"Ugh—"
Then, she started to amuse herself.
First, she picked up the only plastic cup on the table and turned it over and over.
When she had seen enough, she carefully pushed it back and forth on the tabletop, listening to the monotonous sound of the cup bottom rubbing, her small head nodding with the sound.
After pushing it a few times, she seemed to find it boring again, so she simply inverted the cup on the table and extended a slender finger to lightly flick the bottom of the cup.
"Tap... tap... tap..." The crisp, monotonous tapping sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
While tapping, she covertly glanced at the monitor's location again from the corner of her eye.
On her delicate small face, there was still that innocent and bored expression, her long eyelashes lowered, concealing the fleeting glint deep in her eyes.
She tried her best to imitate the innocent and carefree boredom of an ordinary little girl in her memory, the kind who couldn't be bothered by anything. Every movement conveyed a signal of "I'm so pitiful, I really need something interesting," striving for naturalness and lack of pretense.
It was a good thing Serie had the newly acquired 'Feigned Pity,' otherwise, with her clumsy acting skills, having been a male for over a decade, she would definitely make herself laugh awkwardly.
Dr. Lynette... did you see? Your little darling is almost growing mold from being cooped up, you know.
Serie silently muttered in her heart, but her lips maintained a perfectly appropriate, innocent curve with a hint of grievance.
She knew that someone was likely watching on the other end of the monitor.
Lynette was the most important target audience for her "Boredom Show."
She needed Lynette to actively ask her "What's wrong?" or directly offer to take her out for "some fresh air."
She couldn't ask; that would be too deliberate, too immodest.
She had to let Lynette actively discover her pitifulness, feel pity for her, satisfy her, and all of it had to be voluntary!
Serie's internal calculations were booming, but in reality...
In the monitoring room of her containment cell, there wasn't a single soul at that moment.
The row of cold screens glowed by themselves, illuminating the empty operating chair.
Lynette was an A-rank doctor after all; she simply didn't have the leisure to play "peeping Tom." She had so many urgent matters piled up that they could crush a person.
Serie's strenuous performance was like winking at a blind man, purely a waste of effort.
After all that effort, Serie slumped onto the table, her forehead resting against the cold surface. Originally, she wanted Lynette to feel distressed, guilty, and restless, creating internal conflict, but now the one experiencing internal conflict had become her.
Serie didn't know if Lynette hadn't seen her at all, or if she had seen her but felt nothing, perhaps even a little amused.
Could it be... Lynette was immune to her trick?
Annoyed? Tired of it?
Serie was on the verge of tears... now she was going from "feigning pity" to truly pitiful.
Not an ounce of acting, all pure emotion.