Immortal In A Death Game-Chapter 200: Feeling Numb (1)

<Nearly there, darling.>

The elevator hummed.

Adam closed his eyes and leaned against the cold metal wall. He hadn’t expected any of this to work. There was no plan. No blueprint, no contingency. They’d rushed into a military base, with him just serving as a diversion.

No. The only reason it worked at all was that he had other Heroes with him. The Forger was right—this entire operation was ridiculous.

Adam opened his eyes and looked down at his palms. He turned them over, studying the lines etched into his skin.

Three months. That’s all it took. Three months to go from a scavenger who flinched at shadows to someone who could rip apart a tank with his bare hands.

But even with that... was it enough?

If their interpretation was right... If Dr. Sarah and the researchers were onto something, then the Administrators had just shown them the truth. Humanity wasn’t being prepared for nothing.

As ridiculous as it was, they would be fighting against aliens.

No. They had been fighting aliens. The verdlecks, the Feinors, the Skayrnmuder... the Emperor. Every creature that crawled out of a Leak, every monster that spawned inside the Game. They were never from Earth.

The answer had been right in front of them from the start—they’d already been fighting against these aliens.

Adam continued to stare at his palms.

There were billions more out there. Suffering. Probably hundreds of billions across whatever worlds those miniature planets represented—the ones Vaydrael had dangled before him like toys.

"Haa..." All of a sudden, everything that had been done to him, the Hospital, the white rooms, the burning, the drowning, the years of screaming into silence... it felt small.

Insignificant, even.

And now, standing in this elevator, descending toward the finish line of his so-called revenge, Adam felt... nothing.

He had imagined this moment hundreds of times. Kicking down the doors. Confronting the people who’d cut him open while he was still awake. Demanding answers. Making them afraid. He had rehearsed the anger, the righteous fury, the satisfaction of watching their faces crumble the way his body once had on their operating tables.

But right now, the only thing on his mind was the after.

He was one person. Whatever he did here wouldn’t change anything for anyone else. The Game would still take millions of people next month. Leaks would still tear holes in the air. Children would still burn.

Maybe he should’ve just helped the others with the Purple Leak.

Maybe this whole detour was selfish. Maybe the Hospital didn’t matter. Maybe... he didn’t matter. Maybe he should’ve—

<Got it.>

The Forger’s voice crackled in his earpiece, interrupting his spiraling thoughts.

Adam blinked. "Got what?"

<The layout. The whole damn thing, baby.>

"How?"

<When we cracked the entrance, I opened up a can of worms. Backdoor protocols, emergency network handshakes, the whole nine yards. Et voila.>

"I don’t... understand what any of that means."

<That’s because you leave the thinking to me, darling. Relax.>

Adam sighed. The elevator continued its descent.

"...And what did you find?"

<Good news and bad news. There’s only one exit. The elevator you’re standing in.>

Adam’s stomach dropped. "There aren’t any stairs?"

<Nope. One way in, one way out. Cozy, right?> The Forger paused. <Be prepared. There might be a welcoming committee as soon as that door opens.>

"Anything else?"

<Place is massive. Dozens of rooms, multiple wings. Also, we’re going to lose communication in three...>

"What do you mean?"

<...two...>

"What is—"

Static.

"Hello?" Adam pressed his finger against the earpiece. "Hello?"

Nothing answered. Just the low hum of the elevator and the soft rattle of cables somewhere above.

Adam exhaled and just waited until the elevator finally stopped.

He’d been descending for nearly four minutes. Just how deep was this place? Was that why they lost connection?

And soon, the doors slid open.

Eight men in dark suits stood in a tight cone, each pointing a handgun directly at Adam’s chest.

Adam stared at them, and it was clear that their entire body was trembling.

He stepped out of the elevator. Then he turned and held the doors open.

"Anyone who wants to go," he said, "should go."

The eight men looked at each other. A fraction of a second passed, maybe less, and then all eight of them scrambled into the elevator, shouldering past Adam, nearly tripping over each other’s feet.

Adam released the doors.

But then, a figure in a white lab coat burst around the corner at a full sprint. The man’s eyes were wide, glasses crooked, and he made it exactly three steps before Adam blocked his path.

"P-please. I want to go, too!"

"Sorry." Adam sighed. "I need someone to guide me inside."

"But—" The doctor’s mouth opened, but the elevator behind Adam hissed shut.

"Don’t be afraid," Adam said. "I won’t hurt you."

"I wasn’t—I wasn’t here when you were here." The doctor’s voice cracked, high and desperate. "I wasn’t part of that. I swear on my children, I wasn’t—"

"I just need a guide." Adam waited until the man’s breathing slowed. "What’s your name?"

The doctor swallowed hard. Adjusted his glasses with shaking fingers. "Jimmy. Jimmy Wong."

"Jimmy." Adam nodded once. "What do you do here?"

"Bioanalysis. Mostly tissue sampling and... and culture work." Jimmy’s eyes darted to the hallway behind him, then back. "What... what do you want to see?"

Adam went quiet... and realized he didn’t actually have an answer. He had come down here expecting resistance. Violence. A fight that would give his anger something to crash against, if he even really was angry.

But the Hospital was eerily quiet. No alarms. No guards charging down the corridor. Just the soft buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint antiseptic smell that crawled into the back of his throat... how familiar.

He looked past Jimmy. The hallway stretched long and straight, white walls, white floor, white ceiling. It looked like any hospital corridor in any city in any country.

"Are you still keeping people here?" Adam asked.

Jimmy stuttered. "Y-yes. We have... four patients."

"Take me to them."