43 - Wake up, Sire

As the tentacle monster sings their painful cries, I look around the room.

It’s just a regular average office, with a white design desk, a computer, a rolling chair, bookshelf, and a small snack bar. Seems like one of the executives’ private office.

I walk around the desk to see anything behind it, and I found a person lying there on the floor with his eyes closed.

“Oh thank God, you’re here.” I praised out loud.

I don’t really remember which office this guy is trapped in in this floor. But I’m very lucky to have found him in the first one. It saves me some time.

I walk over to him and examine his body. Judging by his outfit, he’s obviously a worker. He looked a bit older than Michael, probably in his 30s.

There’s a trail of blood from the side of his head to his hair, which signifies a head injury. And he also has black eye, on his right eye, which meant that he had been involved in a fight.

“Well. You’re unconscious just like in my memories. That’s good. But we can’t get out of here
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