After Being Parasitized by a Monster 3

Chapter 3: Don’t go scaring someone’s precious treasure.

Thirty years ago, nuclear contamination swept through the world’s oceans. Organisms mutated, monsters ran rampant, and all coastal residents were evacuated, forming a five-kilometer vacuum zone.

And in the area between five and ten kilometers from the sea, comprehensive defense systems were established in various locations—the Binhai Defense Centers.

Underneath them were two key departments: the Biological Research Institute and the Logistics Security Department, two sides of the same coin, intertwined.

The Research Institute, as its name implied, focused on studying the contaminated marine life, seeking an ultimate solution. The Security Department, however, despite its innocuous-sounding name, was never a department that could be brought into the light.

As the violent arm behind the Research Institute, its existence was legal and compliant. But given the current grim situation—the endless stream of increasingly intelligent, constantly mutating marine monsters—the higher-ups had been forced to grant it immense authority and freedom.

When necessary, they could resort to any means.

In short, the Research Institute was responsible for cutting-edge technological breakthroughs and providing technical support to the Security Department. The Security Department was responsible for stability in the rear, including but not limited to biological control, riot suppression, hazard elimination, and cleanup after experimental leaks.

If the Security Department deemed her a target for elimination, no one could save her, dead or alive.

Standing in the glass elevator of the tallest building in recorded history, the altitude increased steadily. Cheng Ming gazed into the distance, able to clearly see the boundless sea.

Under the sunlight, the water shimmered with vast patches of gold. Looking at it this way, there was no trace of pollution. The sea was still so gentle, so beautiful.

A magnificent view.

But her mood was anything but magnificent.

“Are you confident you can get through the screening?” Cheng Ming stared at the side wall of the elevator car, where the tempered glass faintly reflected her own shadow. “You’ve gotten stronger, haven’t you?”

The surveillance camera was in the upper rear; this angle wouldn’t capture her facial profile.

Theoretically, if they could communicate via brainwaves, their conversations would be much more discreet and convenient. But she would never allow it free access to her nerves. If she did, a complete parasitic takeover wouldn’t be far off.

After experiencing a second of adrenaline-fueled terror, now with one foot in the grave, Cheng Ming had actually calmed down.

There had been no life monitoring devices found on Wang Qi the night before last. Only a day had passed since then. At most, she was considered missing. It shouldn’t have attracted the Security Department’s attention so quickly.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

Perhaps Wang Qi’s abnormality had long been on the Security Department’s radar, and she was being closely monitored. When they discovered her disappearance, they urgently organized this screening.

Perhaps… if she was truly unlucky, Wang Qi had monster companions, and one of them had successfully disguised itself and infiltrated the Security Department’s upper ranks. This trip was aimed at her. In that case, she had to first pass the screening unscathed, leaving them with no legitimate reason to dispose of her.

The elevator was quiet for a short while.

“And what if I say I’m not?”

Cheng Ming lowered her eyelids, looking at the faint lotus-like patterns on her fingernails—lesions left by the fungal parasite. She said faintly, “Then I’ll have no choice but to admit to the infection and obediently accept all ‘treatment.'”

Ding—

The elevator doors opened.

She let out a silent breath, faced the glass, and nonchalantly adjusted her collar before turning and stepping out of the car.

This was a gamble. Life or death depended on the choice she and it made.

Cheng Ming didn’t wander around. She followed the signs straight to Room 09902.

The conference room was spacious, with chairs neatly arranged on both sides, leaving the central area empty. There was no one there.

For a surprise inspection, it was common practice to hold a slightly confidential meeting to avoid causing panic or alerting the target. But generally, after opening the door, she should have been greeted by fully armed security personnel and sophisticated modern equipment.

Cheng Ming looked up uncertainly, confirming she hadn’t gone to the wrong place. She pushed the door open, entered, and closed it behind her.

Still no change.

Not even a voice prompt.

She took two puzzled steps forward when a rustling sound reached her ears.

The texture was viscous and damp, continuous, as if many small, soft things were suctioned to the tiled walls, crawling slowly.

For example, the tentacles of some kind of cephalopod.

The lights suddenly dimmed.

A huge shadow was cast, dragging an unsettling trail across the floor. She looked up, and her pupils contracted sharply—

On the light fixture, occupying half the ceiling, was a huge mass of coiling, writhing marine monster!

The fine hairs on Cheng Ming’s back stood on end. She backed up against the cold metal door, instinctively clutching the handle. Her mouth opened, but just before a sound could escape, she suddenly came to her senses, realizing what this scene resembled.

This was a re-enactment of that night?

The monster, tangled with countless slimy tentacles, leaped nimbly from the ceiling light. In the flickering, changing lights that created a horror movie atmosphere, it lunged in front of her in the blink of an eye.

And her voice finally squeezed out of her throat, just a single, short scream.

“Ah!”

…

Next door, in Room 09901.

In front of rows of real-time monitoring instruments.

“Any anomalies?” The one asking was a man in a black suit, the person in charge of this operation, Kang Ming, team leader of the Internal Security Group of the Investigation Department.

“None,” said the surveillance observer.

“None,” said the data analyst.

“…None.” The last, belated response came in a low, magnetic female voice.

She had a long, slender ladies’ cigarette between her lips, which she only removed as she spoke, tapping it between her fingers. She squinted at the monitor through the faint, curling white smoke.

Qu Ying, codename “Inquisitor.” Within the Investigation Department, she was known as the human detector, the human PC, and the human weapon.

“Why is she the primary suspect? Just because she was supposed to have her promotion defense with Wang Qi?” she asked, holding the cigarette.

“Yes. They were supposed to have a defense yesterday, but coincidentally, Wang Qi went missing, and Cheng Ming called in sick. And they both live in North Apartment, Building 2. Wang Qi disappeared completely in a single night and hasn’t been seen since. If Wang Qi went to find her through the apartment’s internal ventilation ducts, it would indeed be difficult to detect on surveillance. It’s hard for us not to be suspicious.”

Kang Ming explained in a low voice.

Qu Ying was on loan and did not belong to the Investigation Department. Her true superior was of a very high security clearance, certainly not something a mere team leader like him had the authority to know about.

So in this operation, Qu Ying was nominally under his command, but in reality, he had to defer to her.

On the screen, the monster projection had already pounced on Cheng Ming and then disappeared, leaving only the terrified girl looking around in a daze, anxious because she couldn’t open the door behind her.

Under the high-precision camera equipment, every one of her movements, every subtle change in her expression, was captured for them to see.

At this moment, she was pressed against the doorframe, her body trembling, her bangs in disarray. She looked quite pitiful.

“Suspicion alone can’t convict someone.” Qu Ying casually stubbed out her cigarette and was the first to turn and leave. “Let’s go. On to the next one.”

With one hand pulling the door open, she turned her head, a faint smile playing on her lips, her long, sharp eyebrows raised. “Find a girl to take her for sampling. Don’t go scaring Dr. Jiang’s precious treasure.”

…

“Hello, Teacher Cheng Ming. We’ll need your cooperation for a physical examination.”

After leaving the stress-test conference room, Cheng Ming dazedly followed a recorder, first passing through a laser scanner to obtain her body data, then going to the lab for a blood draw and collection of skin cells and hair.

Like a pig on an assembly line.

The lab technician picked up a pair of surgical scissors and gestured for her to provide a lock of hair.

Cheng Ming touched her head, and then, under everyone’s astonished gaze, pulled off her entire head of hair—

“I had a cranial fungal infection a month ago and just had surgery,” she said, calmly showing her bare scalp. With her other hand, she dangled the long hair and said apologetically, “It’s a wig.”

The room fell silent.

Ten seconds later, the technician opposite her coughed and had to change the plan on the spot. “We’ll take an eyebrow then.”

Microscopic observation showed no obvious abnormalities. The samples were sent for testing, and Cheng Ming entered the next office.

The recorder was a girl with a baby face, likely not very old, and had a very friendly appearance. And since they were both women, Cheng Ming’s emotions were clearly well taken care of.

The other woman had found a hat from somewhere and had thoughtfully helped her cover her less-than-aesthetic scalp before they left.

The room was scented with aromatherapy, and black tea was brewed. The two sat on the sofa like friends. The young recorder lady smiled a little guiltily and soothed her in a soft voice, “I’m sorry, Teacher Cheng. This was all rather sudden. It’s just routine procedure, nothing personal against you.”

Cheng Ming nodded frequently to show it was fine, but her posture was stiff. After accepting the black tea, her ten fingers twisted around the cup, clearly still a bit shaken.

“May I ask what exactly happened? Did… did a mutated creature infiltrate this place?”

The experiments conducted at the institute were related to oceanic nuclear pollution, so there were occasional opportunities to come into contact with monsters. But for them, those were just fleeting experimental materials. Facing danger directly was the Security Department’s responsibility.

From that perspective, the researchers were indeed flowers in a greenhouse.

“No, no, it’s not that serious,” the recorder immediately shook her head. She poured another cup of tea and handed it over, gently reassuring her before picking up her notebook. “I’ll need to record the following conversation and file it for reporting. You don’t mind, do you?”

It was a necessary procedure, so it wouldn’t matter if Cheng Ming minded. But being asked so sincerely made one feel respected and could effectively lower the interviewee’s guard.

This was clearly someone well-versed in psychology… The Security Department really had all kinds of talent. Cheng Ming marveled inwardly and braced herself with full attention.

“You know Teacher Wang Qi, don’t you?” the recorder got to the point. “She may have been harmed. We are investigating the cause.”

…

Half an hour later, the woman opposite finally put away her small notebook and politely saw her to the door. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Because of her intense focus, the half-hour had felt particularly long.

Under the other’s step-by-step guidance, Cheng Ming had carefully recalled all her movements from the end of work the day before yesterday until she came to work today. The conversation was interspersed with skillful questioning to verify the truthfulness of her answers. Cheng Ming didn’t dare to be the least bit careless.

After leaving, the first thing she did was check her phone—no new notifications.

A close call, but she had passed for now.

The heart that had been tense all morning finally relaxed a little.

Compared to the emptiness when she had first arrived, the corridor was now bustling with people, as other researchers were being summoned one by one. Not wanting to run into too many acquaintances, she chose a more secluded route, taking the scenic elevator further away.

Just as she rounded a corner, the crisp sound of heels clicking on the floor echoed from the end of the hallway. Click-clack, click-clack, a brisk rhythm.

A young yet mature woman was walking towards her.

She wore a black vest over a white shirt, her hair was waist-length and hung loosely, and she wore patent leather ankle boots, creating a strange fusion of competence and leisure.

With a unique aura that was somewhere between a frontline soldier and a rear commander, she was like an advancing blizzard, inexplicably intimidating.

Cheng Ming hesitated for a moment, slowing her pace. As they were about to pass each other, she half-turned her foot and looked up. “Sister Yingying…”

“Shh.” Qu Ying didn’t stop walking but raised her hand and pressed it on top of her head.

The force wasn’t light. Cheng Ming felt her head dip, and the faint smell of tobacco washed over her.

Nicotine is bad for you… She helplessly straightened her hat. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but in the end, she said nothing. She just nodded slightly and walked away without a second glance, like strangers who didn’t know each other well.

Cheng Ming quickly turned into the elevator bay on her right.

Therefore, she didn’t notice that Qu Ying had stopped in her tracks and turned sideways, staring at her retreating back for a long time.

Only after she had completely disappeared did Qu Ying glance at the broken strand of hair in her hand. Her brow furrowed, but a faint curve touched her lips.

The smile was probing, profound, and a little cold—

Little one, haven’t seen you in two months, and you’ve gone and made such big news for me.