Inside a room whose color and sheen were close to dark red, cold water pipes surged toward the center from every direction, like twisted, hideous snakes coiled together.

Those pipes wound past several wooden, beam-like support structures at the top of the room, then coiled downward toward the center of the space.

Standing in the center of the room was an enormous exhibition cabinet made of glass and edged with copper and iron, one that Bai Liu had seen once before. It was filled with an unknown, viscous liquid.

It was the same display case that had held the other party when he first met Tawil in the museum of Siren Town.

But at this moment, in this game called “Rose Factory,” what was held inside the same display case was no longer that beautiful, rotting merman, but a bright red heart that was still continuously beating.

Icy metal water pipes drilled into the small opening at the top of the display case, connecting separately to the openings of the heart’s aorta, pulmonary artery, pulmonary vein, main vein, and superior and inferior vena cava. Then they were fixed to the walls of the blood vessels with devices similar to staples.

The pipes had transformed into veins and arteries made of steel and iron.

Surging through those “blood vessels” was a certain pink liquid that carried the fragrance of roses, the color of blood after carbon monoxide poisoning.

The heart, as brilliant as a branding iron, was supported by those hard blood vessels and suspended precisely in the center of the display case. It beat rhythmically and peacefully, one pulse after another.

—That was Bai Liu’s long-lost old friend, the heart of the monster named Tawil, who had been given the name of an Evil God.

Bai Liu’s blurred memories became clear for an instant before this bright red heart.

He remembered that when he was still Bai Six, not long after meeting Xie Ta, he had once leaned against the front pew of the church with a mischievous smile, tapped Xie Ta’s heart, and asked maliciously—

[You say you are a monster who won’t die. If someone, for example me, deliberately dug out your heart, would you die?]

And Xie Ta had answered him without the slightest ripple—

[No. My heart would beat in your hand.]

He had never deceived Bai Liu.

Tawil truly would not die.

It was only that the place where his heart beat was no longer in Bai Liu’s palm, but inside a game filled with roses and destruction.

Tawil’s heart was like the thorn of a withered rose that had disappeared. It suddenly appeared at the very moment Bai Liu could not find it, stabbing into the heart of the person who had once claimed he would dig it out with his own hands.

The factory worker leading Bai Liu forward tugged at the unresponsive Bai Liu, guiding him toward a wooden staircase behind the heart’s exhibition cabinet.

Standing on the first step of the stairs, Bai Liu could reach the openings where those pipes entered the display case.

The factory worker explained the next steps to him:

“Respect the equipment and use it carefully. Don’t touch those pipes above. They are filled with extracted and distilled perfume raw liquid. It is still scalding hot and must pass through heart circulation before it becomes raw material that perfumers can use. However, this kind of raw material does not have very good effects yet and is still far from low-grade perfume. It needs to be configured by a talented perfumer before it can become more long-lasting.”

“Next, we will give you a portion of perfume raw liquid that has not undergone circulation and let you drip it into this glass cabinet. If the raw liquid changes color to a certain degree, it proves that you have the talent to use this instrument. The darker the color, the stronger your talent as a perfumer.”

The worker looked at Bai Liu.

“If it is confirmed that you have talent, you can be promoted to factory worker.”

The worker placed a small bottle of perfume raw liquid into Bai Liu’s palm. Then, with great care, he pushed aside the clustered pipes and revealed an extremely small opening before giving Bai Liu a gentle push.

“Go try it now.”

Bai Liu gripped the perfume raw liquid in his palm and looked down at the heart without moving, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

The heart thudded before his eyes.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was as if it were still inside Xie Ta’s chest.

The worker looked at the motionless Bai Liu in confusion.

“Processing Worker No. 70365, why haven’t you poured it yet?”

The worker did not know whether it was his imagination, but he felt that this processing worker, who had always been very calm, suddenly seemed to start... becoming angry the moment he saw this instrument.

Although his expression had not changed, his aura suddenly became terrifying.

Even though he looked like a little girl, he made an adult like the worker afraid to urge him loudly. The worker only dared to remind him politely.

If someone else had dawdled like this during the test, the worker would have started cursing long ago.

The instrument was extremely precious. It could not remain exposed for too long, or the device would be contaminated.

Under the worker’s urging, Bai Liu took a step forward, extended his hand expressionlessly, then turned his wrist and let the raw liquid drip down through that opening.

A drop of rose-red raw liquid fell into the glass cabinet.

As layers of ripples washed across the surface of the viscous liquid, that rose-red color deepened and continued to spread.

The worker stared with wide, stunned eyes, looking at Bai Liu in disbelief.

But this was only the prelude to the change.

Soon, a wind from an unknown source swept through the sealed space.

That drop of raw liquid inside the display case was like an extremely concentrated pigment, beginning to diffuse and thicken with a strange curvature, deepening layer by layer.

The liquid shifted from a rose-red close to pink, spreading outward into a deep rose-red, then diffusing again into a lighter red.

Finally, by the time the raw liquid reached the heart, it had become the true red of a mature rose.

At the same time, as the color inside the glass cabinet deepened, the heart’s beating began to accelerate, increasing the speed at which it pumped the liquid.

The pipes fixed to the walls began to fail under the pressure pumped out by the heart. The pipe joints started to seep “blood” and tremble, looking as though they would soon fall off.

As the color turned red, a crack appeared in the thick glass.

The worker cried out in panic for the employee guarding the instrument.

That employee was also seeing this for the first time and was somewhat dazed.

These were reinforced metal pipes and bulletproof glass!

“Drain the water and change the tank!”

The employee roared and violently pulled down the lever beside him.

Immediately, the cover at the bottom of the glass cabinet opened, and the drainage port in the floor opened at the same time, completely draining the blood-red liquid.

Almost at the same instant, the outer box was lifted away, and a new, sturdier box rose up from below. Liquid was injected into it, making the heart suspend once again.

Bai Liu had already been carried into a side room by the worker during the water change.

Scenes like this, where the liquid was changed, were not allowed to have too many people present, in order to avoid contamination.

Just as the worker was trembling with fear over what had just happened, he accidentally caught a glimpse of Bai Liu smiling.

—It was a satisfied, demonic smile, as if he had received a response from that living-dead heart instrument.

The sight made the worker’s hair stand on end.

He did not even dare to ask what this little girl was smiling about.

He only recalled what he had just seen and vaguely judged that this factory had welcomed the most talented perfumer in its history.

That kind of color was already the color that only appeared in special-grade perfume.

The worker nervously swallowed hard.

In the small room beside the instrument, he picked up a pen with hands still stained by the raw liquid and wrote an application—

—[To the respected superiors and perfumers: Among the three processing workers selected today to test for perfumer talent, one caused an extremely serious accident. During the test, she accidentally cracked the glass cabinet holding the instrument. This sounds like an unforgivable matter, one that ought to be punished by death...]

[...But please allow me to argue on behalf of this processing worker. This was indeed a situation with extenuating circumstances. I am specifically writing this application to request that not only should she not be put to death, but she should instead be specially promoted to perfumer...]

[...The red given by the instrument during this test was a deep and beautiful red I have never seen before, like ruby, like blood. If I am not making a wild guess, then this processing worker who accidentally committed certain errors will become the most talented perfumer our Rose Factory has had since its establishment.]

[We all know very well how unfortunate and close to death the profession of perfumer is in this world: selected by the organs of the dead, producing perfumes that manufacture death, and finally walking into hell amid a fragrance filled with death.]

[This processing worker is the person with the strongest aura of death I have ever seen, bar none. She was born for death and is a genius suited to this profession. Clearly, both the instrument and I agree on this. Therefore, please consider my proposal carefully.]

[The May Rose Festival is approaching, and we have never needed a perfumer capable of producing special-grade perfume as much as we do now.]

After writing this application, the worker hurriedly brought Bai Liu to the third-floor office to begin the procedures for a processing worker to become a formal factory worker.

At the same time, another worker led Tang Erda, who had already changed into a disinfected protective suit, into this once-again refreshed instrument room.

Tang Erda frowned as he surveyed the room.

Like Bai Liu, he recognized the disharmony in the room’s structure.

The rooms in this game looked exactly like the exterior of the room numbered [0001] in the institution built by humans called the Dangerous Heretic Management Bureau.

His gaze swept over the entire dark red room filled with cooling pipes, then finally froze on the center of the room.

Inside an enormous glass display case, a strange, severed heart connected to those cooling pipes had been placed.

That heart was still beating.

Tang Erda had years of experience dealing with dangerous heretics, as well as memories of clearing countless games. But whether in reality or inside a game, he had never seen such a peculiar heretic, or monster.

It felt as though, if he allowed this heart to continue beating for even one more second, his own heart rate would be bewitched by it and gradually become synchronized with the rhythm of that evil heart.

Years of dealing with these evil heretics had cultivated an extremely sharp intuition in Tang Erda.

He watched the continuously beating heart, and his frown deepened.

He reached behind him. Tiny points of light gathered in Tang Erda’s palm, condensing into a silver handgun.

The muzzle was aimed at the heart from an angle no one else could notice.