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墨書 Inktalez
"There should be three of these keys in the hospital," Dr. Zhang Yingxue said, placing the key on the table. "One is with the director, one is in the Equipment Department, and the last one..."
She gave me a meaningful glance. "Is with Director Li. But Director Li has been missing for two months, hasn't he?"
I inhaled sharply. Director Li was the head of the Equipment Department and had taken a week off two months ago, after which he never returned to work. The official statement from the hospital was that he had been transferred to another facility.
"How did you..."
"Take a look at this." She interrupted me, pulling out a phone from her lab coat pocket. The screen displayed a photo: a handwritten duty log.
"This was written on Director Li's last day on duty," she pointed to one line. "Notice this time."
03:33. Note: B3 routine check.
"But what's more interesting is this." She flipped to a second photo. It was an inventory record for Medicines, densely packed with names and quantities.
"Look here." She pointed to a standard Sedative entry. "The quantity doesn't match the total below; every month there's mysteriously one batch missing."
I carefully compared the numbers, and it was indeed true. What caught my attention even more was that the times these Medicines disappeared were concentrated on certain days each month.
"Let me guess," I focused on those dates, "they're all on the 3rd, 13th, and 23rd?"
She nodded. "And specifically, they all occur after Three Thirty Half."
I opened my computer and pulled up the surveillance records from the past two months. Sure enough, on those specific dates, the monitoring system exhibited that strange Three Minutes repetition.
"Now, do you want to come down with me to take a look?" She waved the key.
Rationality told me to refuse. But as someone who had spent twelve years investigating monitoring anomalies, I knew how rare such opportunities were.
"Wait." I opened an Encrypted Folder and took out a Mini Camera. "Just in case."
We did not take the elevator. Doctor Zhang led me through an abandoned maintenance passage, reaching the deepest part of the Underground Second Floor. Behind a pile of discarded equipment, an inconspicuous iron door stood out.
The door was covered in dust, but the marks around the keyhole indicated it had been used frequently.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
I activated the video recording function on my phone and nodded.
The sound of the key turning was particularly clear in the silence of the underground. Behind the door was a narrow staircase that descended into darkness.
After just a few steps down, I caught a strange smell. It resembled disinfectant but was mixed with an indescribable odor.
The space on Underground Level Three was surprisingly large. The layout here was completely different from that of a typical hospital floor: there were no standard corridors or patient rooms, only individual sealed spaces. Each room was equipped with special soundproofing and radiation shielding.
"Is this... an operating room?" I asked, looking at the equipment in one of the rooms.
"In a sense, yes," Doctor Zhang's voice suddenly turned cold. "But more accurately, this is an Organ Transfer Station."
She pushed open one of the doors. The room was empty, but suspicious brown stains remained on the floor. The Temperature Control Display in the corner showed that the temperature was maintained at 4°C.
"Do you know why it's always Three Minutes?" she asked. "Because that's the golden time for organs after being removed from the body. Beyond that time, the survival rate drops significantly."
My mind began to race:
- Repeated monitoring of specific times
- Missing patient data
- Abnormal fluctuations in the ICU
- Confused records from the underground parking lot
- Mysterious disappearances of nurses
All the clues suddenly connected into a terrifying chain.
"The nurse..." I struggled to speak.
"She might have discovered something she shouldn't have seen," Doctor Zhang said, "just like Director Li. Just like..."
Her words trailed off as the sound of a door opening echoed from the end of the hallway.
We both held our breath. The lights gradually brightened from that direction, accompanied by the sound of wheels from a surgical cart.
Doctor Zhang quickly pulled me into a storage cabinet. Through the crack in the door, I saw two figures in scrubs pushing a surgical cart past us. It was covered with a green surgical drape, but the shape beneath it clearly indicated that it was a person.
What sent chills down my spine was that I recognized one of them: it was Doctor Wang from the anesthesia department, who had been "transferred" just last week.
They entered the room at the end of the hallway. Soon, the sound of equipment powering on filled the air.
"We need to get out," Doctor Zhang whispered urgently. "Right now."
But before we could move, we suddenly heard more footsteps approaching. This time, they were coming from the direction of the stairs.
"Oh no," Doctor Zhang's voice trembled slightly. "It's time for the routine inspection."
I glanced at my phone: 03:32:57.
In just three seconds, it would be that critical moment.
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