John returned to the locker room.
He gagged on the ground.
The Omega Inhibitor was a valve injector, not as easy to carry as a chip, otherwise, he would have given himself a shot long ago.
He even had hallucinations just now—he saw blood streaming from the hostages' eyes in a daze, with voices urging him to shoot them in the head.
[John, what the hell is going on over there, f*ck, talk to me you motherf*cker!]
"I'm not dead."
[...You took a little too long and did extra things. That fat guy might sense something is wrong and shows signs of ending early and bailing. Two automatic sentinels have blocked the entrance. Hurry up.]
"Okay."
John regained his sanity.
The critical level also gradually stabilized.
He walked into the shower room, passed through the cracked tiles, and into a dimly lit old hallway, where he heard voices from the innermost room.
John sneaked closer to observe:
The atmosphere in the room was extremely eerie.
