Before long, he came out carrying a basin of steaming water.
Clumsily, he helped the person on the hospital bed sit up a little, wrung out the towel, and began to wipe her down.
Dirt from the elevator shaft was smudged across Enna Clark's forehead and body, and a casual wipe revealed streaks of gray on the white towel.
This time, the man with a severe case of mysophobia surprisingly showed no distaste. He undid Enna Clark's shirt buttons and wiped her entire body with warm water little by little.
Without care, he roughly buttoned up her shirt again.
Picking up the water, he went back to the bathroom to change the basin and repeated what he did earlier.
He was the kind of person who loathed hassles and hated performing repetitive, mechanical tasks. Yet this time, he not only did it but carefully wiped Enna Clark's body twice without a hint of impatience.
By the time he finished all this, the moon had risen high in the sky.
