Immortal In A Death Game-Chapter 212: An Illusion

"W-what..."

"Will he be okay?"

"Isn’t she venomous?"

Several agents instinctively stepped back, their hands still moving toward their weapons. The sight of Adam willingly touching Patient Eleven sent waves of panic through the group—they’d all read her file, knew what her touch could do.

Patient Eleven, outside of the Heroes, was one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. But just as quickly as they started getting worried, they realized who Adam was.

A Hero known for his abnormal regenerative abilities—no. If anyone could survive her toxins, it would be him. And judging from everything that has already been leaked... he would’ve survived her even before he became a Hero.

Still, watching him stand there, completely unguarded, his fingers wrapped gently around the hand of someone who could kill with a breath—it left them speechless. They watched, extremely curious.

They watched, extremely in awe of the sight in front of them. This scenery felt eerily similar to a story some of them once believed in. A scene where each and every one of them avoided the woman, but a single person touched her without any judgment.

They couldn’t help but just feel... something. The most affected person, however, wasn’t any of them.

It was Patient Eleven herself.

She stared down at their joined hands, her breathing shallow. Twenty-three years. Twenty-three years since the Hospital had taken her from Puerto Rico. She thought she was just caught by the police, but then they gassed her in transit until she woke up in the Hospital. Twenty-three years of being treated like a walking plague.

Which, she had to admit to herself, she was.

No. She’d always been treated like a plague... that was probably why she became one in the first place.

Her mother had died giving birth to her. Her father had thrown her into an orphanage before she could walk. The children and caretakers there had died slowly, one by one, and she’d never understood why until it was too late.

As her condition improved over the years, the poison inside her became more lethal, more... obvious. When she was thirteen, one of the caretakers had wanted something from her. Something awful. That was when she’d discovered the truth—it was her fault.

Her mother’s death, the orphanage deaths, all of it. The caretaker had melted on top of her, screaming.

One moment, it felt like the world was tearing her apart. And then the next, she’d been gifted to do the opposite—to tear the world apart.

She’d been angry then. Angry at the world. She’d had every right to be.

The anger had become an addiction. The thrill of watching them die.

How many minutes? How many seconds? How would they suffer? It came to the point that it almost became a competition for her, pitting them against each other without them knowing.

She was a plague, and everyone who realized it looked at her with disgust, fear, and sometimes envy for the power she wielded.

And the Hospital... the Hospital was her punishment—caged here in her twenties, and now she didn’t even know how old she truly was.

Her beauty, which had once literally killed dozens of people, was gone. Replaced by the hollow look of someone who’d spent decades in captivity. There was no more fear or envy from others. Only disgust.

But now he was back.

The boy from years ago. The very same boy who had smiled at her when the doctors forced her to release all her toxins on him. The boy who had clearly been in pain, dying, afraid—and yet never once looked at her with anything but that same gentle expression.

Twenty years had passed. The boy looked only a few years older... and like his remaining youth, the gentle look he’d given her hadn’t changed at all.

"Why... why are you back here?" Patient Eleven’s voice cracked. "You already got out. What’s happening? Who are these people?"

She glanced around at the agents, their weapons, their stern faces.

"Are you here to... set me free? Some of the doctors said the world has gone insane. That people are killing each other. That there’s an apocalypse."

She looked back at Adam, studying his face.

"Seeing as all of you are here, that’s fucking bullshit. Why did I even trust a single word coming out of their mouths? Nothing’s happening out there, is it?"

"No. The world is ending," Adam said quietly.

"W-what...? What do you mean?"

"It’s been ending for twenty years. There’s a lot you need to know, but we need to talk about something else first. You—"

"What do you want to talk about?" Patient Eleven pulled her hand away from his. "You’re... not here to set us free, are you? Are these feds?"

"I... can’t offer you what you want." Adam sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"You’re a criminal by law. You’ve killed dozens of people before the Game started. Once you step out of here, they’ll arrest you."

"The... Game?" Patient Eleven seemed even more confused. She glanced at the others, and seeing them still reaching for their weapons—it was obvious that they really would arrest her. "What even is—"

"Or you can stay here."

"Huh...?" Patient Eleven stepped back, her lips trembling, curling down for a moment before a manic laugh escaped her.

"A choice?!" She screamed and laughed at Adam’s face. "So either I stay locked up here, or they lock me up outside!"

"No," Adam shook his head. "They’ll probably kill you."

"So you’re threatening me now?!" Patient Eleven’s lips trembled with rage. "What fucking right do you have to—"

"No. I’m not threatening you. But the world is different."

"Trust me. The world is always the same."

"No. It’s completely different now. I’ll show you. They don’t have that much tolerance for crimes like—"

"Wh—" Patient Eleven was about to raise her voice even further, but Adam interrupted her. His voice, slightly deeper now.

"You’ve killed children."

"That..." The words pierced Patient Eleven’s ears, her mouth finally snapping shut at that.

Adam looked her directly in the eyes, his voice steady but sad.

"I’ve... killed children too."

"Huh...?" Patient Eleven blinked, confusion replacing her anger. "What are you... even saying?"

"A lot of people have killed children now. More than you." Adam lowered his gaze. "It’s something that shouldn’t happen, but it does in this world now. The only difference...

...is that you killed children before the Game."

"The... Game?" Patient Eleven squinted. "What... is this Game you keep talking about?"

"The only thing you need to know is that with your crimes, you probably wouldn’t survive long out there." Adam gestured toward the agents behind him. "There’s... a facility here. An indoor town. I’ll make sure you and the others are comfortable."

"Others?"

"Patient Six and Seventeen."

"No!" Patient Eleven’s eyes widened. "What the fuck?! You mean that pig is still alive? And you seriously think I’ll live with Patient Six? That old man’s creepy as fuck!"

"It’s just a choice," Adam said. "You have the option not to accept it."

Patient Eleven stared at him, then at the agents behind him. All she could see was contempt in their faces, their hands resting on their weapons, ready to act at the first sign of trouble.

"So much for having a choice." She shook her head slowly. "What you’re offering me isn’t a choice, Patient Zero. It’s a fucking illusion."

"An illusion..." Adam sighed deeply, his expression growing even more tired.

"I could’ve really used an illusion during the time I was here."

Patient Eleven lightly bit her lip, her nose twitching as she tried her best not to get her emotions in a twist. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

And then, all of a sudden, she stepped closer to Adam and pressed her palms on his cheeks. The field agents behind him all raised their weapons, but Adam gestured to them all to calm down.

"Fine," Patient Eleven said. "But I have a condition."

"...What is it?"

"There needs to be a place where I can get my hair done."

***

A few days later, one would think the talk about the Hospital would subside, but it hadn’t. Not at all.

Everyone was still discussing it. For once, the media wasn’t filled with Heroes, the Game, or Leaks. Everyone was talking about the Hospital and Adam.

And now, the people were getting what they wanted.

Adam walked onto a stage, looking slightly uncomfortable as he sat in front of more than a hundred journalists, cameras, and curious onlookers. The lights were harsh, the microphones numerous. He shifted in his chair, clearly out of his element.

He looked at them all, his expression awkward and uncertain.

But finally, he sighed.

"Uhm... Good afternoon, everyone," he whispered, tapping the microphone in front of his face before leaning back.

"My name is Adam. And I’m here to tell people my story, and about the Hospital, and my decision to keep it open. But first...

...any questions?"

And with that single action, the crowd in front of him erupted.