Meals on the third floor didn't need to be delivered as frequently.
And their food was different from that of the lower two levels.
After finishing lunch delivery for both floors, Sabrina hurried back to the cafeteria to eat.
By then, most of the staff had already left.
Only Hannah remained, waiting for her.
"Come on, hurry. It's already cold—I even asked the kitchen to heat it up again for you."
Sabrina's eyes filled with gratitude.
Seeing her about to bow again, Hannah waved her off with a laugh.
"Enough of that. Just eat."
Sabrina was indeed starving—but she still gave a quick bow before sitting down.
Hannah pushed a bowl of soup toward her. "Start with the soup."
Sabrina nodded obediently and lifted the bowl.
Even though she was famished, her movements remained composed and refined—no rushing, no wolfing it down.
The kind of manners that spoke of a careful upbringing.
Hannah noticed.
And remembered.
Only after Sabrina had nearly finished did Hannah speak again, her tone more serious.
"Sabrina… don't be so naive next time. You can't indulge their picky eating like that."
"Every dish is carefully planned for their nutrition. If they skip a little here and there, it adds up—it's not good for their bodies."
Sabrina blinked, realization dawning.
She hadn't thought that far.
To her, these Sentinels were like the soldiers in her own world—people who risked their lives to protect others.
They deserved respect.
And "mental contamination," in her understanding, was like an illness.
They were already confined—so if their small requests could be fulfilled, what harm was there?
Otherwise, being shut in for so long… wouldn't that only make their condition worse?
Still, after hearing Hannah's explanation, she nodded.
She would try to handle things differently next time—perhaps persuade the Sentinel in 112—James—to eat his carrots for the sake of his health.
Seeing that she understood, Hannah smiled, satisfied.
"I'll head out first. You should get some rest too."
Sabrina stood and bid her a polite farewell.
Then sat back down, finishing the last of her soup.
The morning's work was complete.
All request forms had been submitted to the supervisor.
In the afternoon, she would collect the meal trays and their changed clothes, delivering them to the cafeteria and laundry respectively.
Then dinner.
Then the end of her shift.
Thinking back to the chaos of the morning, Sabrina decided to head over early.
Better that than rushing again and falling behind.
The early bird gets ahead, she reminded herself.
By the time she reached Building Three again, the Sentinels had already finished eating.
They had neatly placed their empty trays at the hatches, waiting for collection.
Row after row—orderly, obedient.
Sabrina smiled faintly.
On the first floor, there were a few bad apples among decent people.
On the second—a few decent ones among the difficult.
On the third… well, they were all too busy howling to judge.
Clatter.
A tray fell from a hatch, hitting the ground.
Sabrina turned—and nearly jumped out of her skin.
In the distance, a head protruded from a hatch, staring at her with a wide, unsettling smile.
Her expression collapsed into a frown.
Eugene.
That man had pushed his entire head out of the hatch, his body hidden inside, tilting it at an odd angle as he watched her.
At night, it would've been enough to scare someone senseless.
No wonder everyone called him insane.
Eugene's grin stretched wider, but what he said made Sabrina both annoyed and—against her will—amused.
"Kind little girl… help me out. I'm stuck."
Upstairs, Fang's eyes lit up.
Oh… clever.
Why hadn't he thought of that?
Sabrina tried to hold it in, but couldn't suppress a small laugh.
The sight really was ridiculous.
She walked over, first picking up the tray he'd knocked down.
Then she stepped closer, studying him.
This man was unpredictable.
Who knew if this was just another trick?
Eugene curved his eyes, looking pitiful.
"Help me, will you? I won't tease you this time."
Only then did Sabrina step forward.
Inside, Eugene almost laughed.
So easy to fool…
The moment her hand touched his head, he let out a strange, drawn-out sound.
"Ah—"
Sabrina recoiled instantly, as if she'd seen a ghost.
Other Sentinels, hearing that indecent noise, shut their eyes tightly in collective irritation.
Disgusting.
Only Fang narrowed his eyes slightly.
Sabrina, realizing she'd been tricked, glared at Eugene.
But Eugene… his lips parted slightly, eyes half-lidded in unmistakable pleasure, like a cat that had just stolen cream.
That sensation... He had never been purified by a Guide before.
But from what others had described… this feeling—like his entire body and mind had been washed in divine light—it couldn't be far off.
Even the restless agitation and heaviness caused by his mental contamination had eased.
But the moment Sabrina pulled away, the feeling vanished.
Completely.
He didn't have time to wonder why this girl—who clearly wasn't a Guide—could have such an effect.
All he wanted was to feel it again.
Eugene opened his eyes.
His lake-blue gaze was hazy, almost unfocused, like someone abruptly cut off from something addictive.
"Why'd you stop? Keep helping me~"
Tilting his head, he pushed himself forward, trying to extend his head out even more.
Sabrina stared at him.
If he had a tail, she thought, it would definitely be wagging right now.
She took a step back, face flushed with anger.
Pointing at her head, then at him, she signed sharply:
[You're sick!]
Eugene didn't understand the gesture, but he could read the emotion well enough.
She was angry.
She was scolding him.
He narrowed his eyes lazily.
"Your hands are just too soft… too comfortable. I couldn't help myself. I promise I won't do it again."
Sabrina: …
What kind of nonsense is that?!
Her anger flared even higher.
Shameless!
He was obviously pretending—just to mess with her.
She wasn't helping him again.
After collecting the trays from the first floor, Sabrina pushed her cart upstairs.
No matter how Eugene called after her, it made no difference.
Hearing her approach, Fang's eyes flickered faintly.
At 201, the hyena's head shoved out again like a spokesperson for Gian.
"What's that supposed to mean? You actually touched that lunatic?"
Sabrina pressed her lips together, exhausted.
She shook her head, collected the trays—many of them chewed and mangled—and moved on.
Behind her, Gian barked:
"I'm warning you—if you really touched that disgusting freak, I'll chop your hand off!"
He had no intention of touching anything that had been in contact with Eugene.
What if insanity was contagious?
Sabrina didn't even feel afraid anymore.
Could he get out?
No.
It was just… ridiculous.
None of them is normal.
At 202, Fang's tray sat neatly in place.
He was seated by the hatch again, but this time, his brows were faintly furrowed, his expression pale and unwell.
His already cool-toned complexion looked even more fragile now.
Sabrina paused, concern rising immediately.
She handed over a note:
[What's wrong?]
Fang held his head, voice weak.
"I don't know… I feel dizzy…"
"My hands and feet are cold, but I can't tell if I have a fever…"
From 103, Xander's voice lifted—almost bright with interest.
"Fang's dying? Finally, some justice."
Sabrina sighed helplessly.
Nearby, Eugene curled his lips in a mocking smile.
Calling me insane… and now copying my tricks?
…Wait.
His expression shifted slightly.
What is he playing at?