Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Elath Taen made mad music for the men of Mars. The red planet lived and would die to the soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping. Ranson passed the conventional electric eye and a polite robot voice books. As Ranson entered, he swung about, frowning, one hand dropping leonine hair. A battering-ram of a man, one would think, who hammered his way through life by sheer force and drive. But as Ranson looked closer, he could see lines of worry, of fear, etched about the strong Ranson put it directly. "Why did you require the help of T.I., Mr. "Mr. Ranson," Haller leaned forward, his face a gray grim mask, Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded. "It's all right." Jared Haller grinned crookedly. "I'm not insane. Yet. Look, Mr. Ranson! There's just one clue to these mysterious deaths! And that's the music! In each instance the servants told of hearing, Jared Haller froze, his face gray as lead, his eyes blue horror. Ranson them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody. There was, there had never been, Ranson knew, any music like this. It was the pipes of Pan, the chant of robots, the crying of souls in Neither man moved. Ranson knew all the tricks of visual hypnotism, the these, he decided, that their unknown serenader lay concealed. Suddenly the elfin melody changed. Fierce, harsh, it rose, until Ranson felt as though a file were rasping his nerves. He knew that he should dash down, seize the invisible musician below ... but logic, facts and duty, all were fading from his mind. The music was a spur, goading him to wild unreasoning anger. The red mists of hate swirled through his brain, a strange unreasoning bloodlust grew with the savage beat of the wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt an insane desire to run amok. To inflict pain, to see red blood flow, to kill ... kill! Blindly he whirled, groping for his gun, as the music rose in a frenzied death-wail. Turning, Ranson found himself face to face with Jared Haller. But the tall flinty magnate was now another person. Primitive, atavistic rage screamed, "Kill!" And Jared Haller obeyed. He snatched the flame-gun from his pocket, levelled it at Ranson. Whether it was the deadly melody outside, or the instinct of self-preservation, Ranson never knew, but he drove at Haller with grim fury. The flame-gun hissed, filling the room with a greenish glare, its beam passing so close to Ranson's hair as to singe it. Ranson came up, grinning furiously, and in a moment both men were struggling, teeth in a mad dance of death as the macabre music distilled deadly poison within their brains. The end came with startling suddenness. Ranson, twisting his opponent's arm back, felt the searing blast of the flame-gun past his hand. Jared Haller, a ghastly blackened corpse, toppled to the floor. conjured up pictures in Ranson's mind ... pictures of fairyland, of exquisitely beautiful scenes, of women lovely beyond imagination. All of man's hopes, man's dreams, were in that music, and it drew Ranson as a moth is drawn to a flame. The piping of Pan, the fragile fantasies of childhood, the voices of those beyond life.... Ranson walked stiffly toward the source of the music, like a man drugged. Like a sleepwalker he climbed to the sill, stood outlined in the tall window. Twenty feet to the ground, almost certain death ... but Ranson was lost in the golden world that the elfin melody conjured up. He Ranson stepped back into the room, where the still, terrible form of if it had been cudgelled, Ranson slid limply to the floor. staring curiously at Ranson. "Yes." Ranson nodded sombrely. "In the struggle. Self-defense. But even if it hadn't been self-defense, I probably would have fought with him. That music was madness, I tell you! Madness! Nobody's responsible when under its influence! I...." "You killed Haller," Captain Maxwell said. "And you blame it on this alleged music. I might believe you, Ranson, but how many other people would? Even members of Terrestial Intelligence aren't sacro sanct. I'll halted him, but a wave of Ranson's T.I. card put the man aside. Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he behind their glasses, were like green ice, and the hand pouring the black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance. Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen, master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen, outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red and this was the man behind the unholy music! "Good evening, Mr. Ranson," Elath Taen smiled. "Had I known T.I. men were on Mars I should have taken infinitely more precautions. However...." at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of flame leapt from his gun, shattering the tube. The dark liquid hissed, smoking, on to the floor. "Well done, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen nodded calmly. "Had the acid struck you, it would have rendered you blind." "That's about enough of your tricks!" Ranson grated. "Come along, Dr. Taen! We're going to headquarters!" "Since you insist." Elath Taen removed his chemist's smock, began, very deliberately, to strip off his rubber gloves. "Quit stalling!" Ranson snapped. "Get going! I...." The words faded on "Good God!" Ranson's eyes darted about the laboratory. "That ... that's the same as Haller and I...." "Exactly, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen smiled thinly. "Listen!" The music was a caress, soft as a woman's skin. Slow, drowsy, like the hum of bees on a hot summer's afternoon. Soothing, soporific, in laboratory. "Come ... come on," Ranson said thickly. "Got to get out of here." But his words held no force, and Elath Taen was nodding sleepily under the influence of the weird dream-music. Ranson knew he should act, swiftly, while he could think, to move, but his will seemed in a padded vise. The music was dragging him down, down, into the gray mists of oblivion. Across the laboratory Elath Taen had slumped to the floor, a vague smile of triumph on his face. Ranson turned to the direction of the music, tried to raise his gun, but the weapon slipped from his enigmatic girl, watched her hands dance over the keys to produce the soft lulling music. About her head, he noticed, was a queer copper helmet, of a type he had never before seen. And then the girl, Elath Taen, the laboratory, all faded into a kaleidoscopic whirl. Ranson felt

<question>:
What would have likely happened with the interaction between Elath Taen and Mr. Ranson at the end of the article if the hypnotizing music had evoked anger instead of sleepiness?

<options>:
A Either Mr. Ranson or Elath Taen would have been harmed or killed.
B Mr. Ranson would have been able to converse more with Elath Taen instead of falling asleep if the music had evoked anger.
C Mr. Ranson would have been able to take Elath Taen back to the headquarters.
D Elath Taen would have been affected more by the anger-evoking music than Mr. Ranson.

<answer>:

A