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"Who is he?"
The middle-aged man with a bulbous, rosacea nose who received Roger and his colleague pondered over Roger with a skeptical glimmer in his eyes.
"He is my special advisor," Henrik replied casually.
"Can we now meet Mr. Hannam?"
Although the middle-aged doctor was somewhat doubtful, he didn't say anything further and led Roger and his colleague into the hospital.
The air here was foul, the corridors wafted with the scent of disinfectant and a hint of mold. Passing through certain areas, Roger could see patients queueing for medicine, and nurses and guards with stiff expressions.
"That Hannam, has he truly gone mad?"
Riding the elevator down, Roger broke the silence.
"Ha, I'd rather he hadn't. Then we could send this damned murderer to prison," Henrik said with a chuckle.
"Instead of keeping him here!"
The middle-aged doctor glanced at Roger, "You'll see when you meet him. With his condition, I'm not even sure if it can be counted as madness."
Ding.