Kyon was pleased with the productive conversation with Martha. First, while he was passionately hugging the stunned woman, he managed to make a clay mold of the two keys lying in the pocket of her white coat. Sleight of hand and no fraud. Two seconds and the keys were back in their rightful place. They didn’t even jingle once. Second, thanks to the naive woman, he was going to have Byron on his side, and he was the leader of the sector, holding the first rank no less. Such powerful connections would definitely help Kyon get out of there.

And, finally, he got closer to Martha. He would not hesitate to use the clueless woman again if need be. He would thank her in the future by all means.

Kyon stared at the mold, memorizing the shape of both keys. He was developing a 3D model in his head, according to which he was going to reproduce the desired key later. Actually, he didn’t need the mold that much. He could rely on his tactile perception, but then some mistakes might creep in and ruin the plan.

Kyon came up to the door and peeped through the keyhole. He compared the hole with the two versions of the keys. The second mold was just right. He went back to his bed, took out the wooden block and the metal tool, a kind of scalpel, that he had "borrowed" during his last raid to Martha's office.

Kyon saw two options for breaking into her office: lock picking (unfortunately, he had left his burglar set in his world. Even if he managed to find the right tool and break the door open, he would totally fail to close it unnoticed) or making his own key.

Fortunately, the key did not have to be a perfect fit. The accuracy of the details was not a big deal. All he needed was an approximate shape and length. Even without experience as a locksmith, he could make a decent unbreakable key out of the solid wooden piece from the construction kit.

It was time to get to work. Not many people would cut out a replica with an ill-designed tool, but his accuracy of perception, perfect understanding of motor skills, and his expertise from the past world came in very handy.

Kyon was sitting on the farthest bed from Martha’s office, with his back to the door (the doctor wouldn't notice what kept her patient busy if she suddenly came out). He carefully cut layer by layer from the piece of wood and meticulously put all the wood shavings in his pocket. He would flush all the "evidence" down the toilet later.

Gradually, the wooden block started to show some semblance of a key. There appeared cavities, grooves, and notches. It was laborious and time-consuming work, especially given the lack of decent tools and experience.

Two hours had passed, the working day came to an end.

Martha went out. As she was closing the door to her office, she noticed a spot on the key. She stared at the strange substance but couldn’t determine what it was. The doctor decided it was just a speck of dirt. She brushed it off the key and let it go.

Her gaze involuntarily lingered on Kyon, who had returned to his bed as if nothing had happened. She remembered the exciting and embarrassing incident, and her cheeks turned crimson. Quickly averting her eyes, Martha muttered sidewards: «Good night.»

Kyon called her out. He sat up in bed, holding his knees with his hands:

«Martha! Bob might take me to the formations department within the next few days. Please call Martin about 20 minutes after we leave.»

The doctor was silent for a while. She frowned and tucked a lock of unruly hair behind her ear.

«What are you up to? Why would I call him?» - She asked suspiciously, in the end.

«Eh... I have a gut feeling that something terrible might happen. It's difficult to explain... I trust you... as a doctor, of course. I will feel so much better if I can rely on you to make one call and check if everything's all right.»

Alarm in his voice, sad eyes, drooping shoulders: he had skillfully conveyed his anxiety.

«It’s pure nonsense. What gut feeling are you talking about? You just don't like Martin, do you?»

«Not at all. Martin is a good man. It’s just… I always have a bad feeling before something happens. Last time it was when my grandmother died.»

«Are you serious? Well... Okay, then. One call, and that's it.»

«Ask Martin if everything is alright, that’s all. Will you promise me that you will do it?» - Kyon put his hands together in a pleading gesture.

«You know it’s quite an unusual request. Well… All right, I'll call him. I hope it isn’t some kind of joke.»

«Thank you.» - He flashed a grateful smile. Martha thought he was making fun of her, but it was a matter of life and death!

Martha left the hospital with mixed feelings. {What is this bad boy up to?}

On the one hand, she wasn’t eager to call Martin for no reason. He had already told her off for breaking the rules. But Kyon’s pleading look... Her kind heart will kill her someday. Anyway, she had given her word, she had to keep the promise. After all, it's only a call... Probably.

…

The duplicate of the key was ready and waiting for the glorious moment in the secret pocket. Kyon wisely decided to wait a couple of hours after Martha left in case someone decided to drop by in the hospital. If he was caught in the office, he would be very unlikely to get a slap on the wrist.

His heart was restless. It was an important step in his plan. If the key didn’t fit, he would have to look for other options. And there was no guarantee they would work. So far, everything had been going without a hitch. He had procured the key. Also, Borya and Mike had left the hospital. However, even if there were any patients in the ward, Kyon would have "contributed" to their sound sleep after pressing certain points on their bodies. After his treatment, they would not wake up even in the event of a nuclear explosion.

The best masters had taught him the basics of acupuncture. Synergy of first degree interacted only within the body. Respectively, the first stage of training focused on the body.

It was time.

He inserted the key, pressed the lock, repeating Martha's actions, and turned it gently clockwise.

*click*

The door opened.

{Hehe, it worked!} - Kyon was jubilant.

The only thing that bothered him was that Martin could observe his location (the mercury mirror reflected the people with formations). On reflection, he decided that the device was unlikely to be accurate enough to show a difference of three meters.

Kyon didn't know that Martin had connected the formation directly to himself, not the device. But it didn’t change the accuracy of his dislocation anyway.

Behind the door, he found a cramped room, about three by five meters. The air was permeated with the smell of drugs mixed with a drop of Martha’s pleasant scent. Near the wall, he saw a table with a ridiculous soft toy and a chair next to it. A lighting crystal hung from the ceiling. There were several shelves, a couple of cabinets and a fridge running on energy crystal. It contained drugs that required certain storage conditions.

{According to my calculations, I have about six hours at my disposal. It's more than enough.}

Kyon rummaged through the papers in search of the necessary information, carefully remembering what and where had been before. He noticed his drawing and grinned. It was hidden in a safe place, away from prying eyes. {I love it when a woman says one thing and does just the opposite.} It was exactly what Martha did: she complained that the drawing was too cheeky, yet she kept it as a souvenir.

Kyon found the necessary books and sorted them out. He quickly flipped through them, one by one, trying to find the information he needed. As expected, there was a training manual on drugs and their use, properties, dosages, and so on. Also, Martha kept notes written by hand. Even a professional like Martha couldn't know everything by heart. Kyon found the drug he needed in her notebook.

He got into the refrigerator and took a flask with clear liquid out of a separate compartment – sedative. The instruction said it was to be diluted in water at a concentration of 1 to 150 for oral use. If the dosage is right, it starts working in a minute. There was a footnote saying that the effect was halved in hot water. Martha's notes were striking with their attention to every detail.

Kyon took a small empty vial from the box. He thought that no one would notice the loss of such a trifle. Then he generously filled it with the sedative and put the rest in its place. The next tea party with Martin was going to be very unusual.

Kyon put everything in its place, not forgetting the scalpel he had snatched before. Now, no one could tell the state of the room "before" and "after" his shameless invasion. Only the flask of sedative in the fridge was slightly less full than before.

He carefully locked the door and went to bed. He couldn't sleep. Kyon was all worked up in anticipation. His chances were limited by the hospital. Nonetheless, it was more than enough to implement his plan with a success rate of more than 60%.

He couldn’t use energy at the moment. He couldn't study anything useful, either. There was no point in introspection as all of his thoughts were pure and sorted out. He had plenty of time before dawn. There was time to separate the wheat from the chaff, try amigurumi, and know himself. In the absence of wheat or a crochet, all he could do was to train his body with stretching exercises. Sleep could wait for a couple of days.

He hid the key in the discrete hole in the mattress, put the vial in his secret pocket and began to stretch his joints and tendons. His body struck him with awful physical condition. At the moment, he couldn't reach the floor with his fingertips. What a shame! He could always get fit by the method “for couch potatoes” - with the help of Synergy - but manual work will do it much faster. It would keep him busy until dawn, and then he would have a couple of hours to relax.

When the night was over, his work showed some progress. Eight days (or rather nights) of exercising and his body would be perfectly stretched. The young tendons and joints are very elastic, after all.