Chapter 17

“From the moment we were attacked in the elevator to the entire journey here—did you notice anything that felt… off?”

Wen Ruyao’s sudden question made Su Xing’s scalp prickle. She held her breath. “…Like what?”

Wen Ruyao thought for a moment, then pursed her lips. “Among all the variants we encountered outside, some mutated so drastically their physical characteristics became completely unrecognizable, making it impossible to identify their original form. But others, aside from massive gigantism, didn’t change that much at all. And the ones with the least morphological change were almost all arthropods.”

Su Xing froze, mentally retracing her steps. It did seem that way. Whether it was the Mutant Flies the strange woman had locked in boxes, the mosquito as big as a hawk they’d encountered downstairs, or even the blurry silhouette she’d glimpsed moving through the dense fog—like a monstrously huge centipede—every variant she could easily identify had been an insect, without exception.

“Could it be a coincidence?”

“It’s possible. But… is it possible that under the influence of this unknown contagion, there’s an inherent hierarchy of adaptability between different species?” Wen Ruyao frowned pensively, seeming to talk to herself.

“Hierarchy?” Su Xing was struggling to follow her train of thought. Her gaze returned to the surveillance feed of the door. That grotesque monster was still crouching outside, but it showed no sign of launching an attack. The longer Su Xing stared, the more complicated her feelings became. “But that thing outside…”

Though they hadn’t pieced it all together yet, only two possibilities seemed plausible. One: the little girl herself had mutated and, driven by her last human memories, had followed their scent here. Two: the Mutant Rat outside had devoured so much of the little girl’s body tissue that it had evolved a semblance of human intelligence through a grotesque process, even absorbing fragments of her consciousness and being drawn here. But the metro carriage had been overrun by a dense swarm of Mutant Rats; the girl’s body was almost certainly devoured completely. So, the second possibility was far more likely.

If the second theory was true—evolution through consuming other species…

A violent shiver wracked Su Xing’s body. She didn’t dare imagine what this world would become in not too long.

As they sat in uneasy, apprehensive silence, the monster crouching outside the door in the video feed suddenly stirred. Su Xing and Wen Ruyao instantly tensed. They watched as it shifted direction and began crawling towards the other end of the hallway.

Towards the door of the man living next door.

The Sharp-Mouthed Monster repeated the exact same sequence of actions, knocking on the neighbor’s door.

The creature’s bizarre behavior sent chills down Su Xing’s spine. “What is it trying to do?”

Wen Ruyao: “It seems to be luring prey into opening the door, walking right into its trap.”

Su Xing instantly broke out in goosebumps all over her body. Swallowing hard, she murmured, “That man should sense something’s wrong, right? Maybe he has a security camera outside his door too—”

Before she could even finish, they watched on the monitor as the neighbor’s door swung open from the inside.

The moment the door cracked, the Sharp-Mouthed Monster slammed into it like a bolt of black lightning, a dark blur that burst straight into the neighboring apartment, its body vanishing from the hallway.

Su Xing’s eyes flew wide in shock.

It had happened far too fast. She didn’t even have time to process any emotion beyond pure shock before she saw the Sharp-Mouthed Monster come flying back out of the neighbor’s door, slamming into the hallway wall with a deep, heavy THUD! The impact was so violent that even they, hiding in the neighboring apartment, felt the wall shudder from the force.

In the empty hallway under harsh white lights, a figure staggered unsteadily out of the neighbor’s room.

First came a pair of long, slender antennae. Then a pair of compound eyes. And finally, a long, needle-sharp proboscis, thin as a hypodermic needle. It was almost impossible to reconcile such an insect-like, massive head—practically identical to that of a mosquito—with the human body it was attached to. A pair of fleshy, limp “wings” sprouted from its back, drooping uselessly. From the side, it looked as if a piece of stretched human skin was draped over it like a cape. The “person” emerging into the frame was wearing men’s loungewear. Its slippered feet stumbled slightly, its movements stiff as it closed in on the Sharp-Mouthed Monster, which was now twitching on the floor. Then, with a sudden, vicious thrust, it drove the long, sharp proboscis on its head downward—and stabbed it straight into the Sharp-Mouthed Monster’s skull. The Sharp-Mouthed Monster thrashed violently, but after just one or two convulsions, its limbs went rigid, all resistance ceasing powerlessly.

Within seconds, the Sharp-Mouthed Monster’s hide began to slowly cave inward. Its body deflated, as if being drained, flattening at a visible rate. Through that long proboscis, the half-human, half-mosquito monster’s body steadily swelled. Then, the tissue beneath its skin began to writhe and crawl madly…

The sight was so profoundly disturbing that Su Xing’s heart hammered like a drum. A wave of nausea hit her, and she physically had to tear her eyes away from the screen.

They were safe for now, hiding in their room, but just the thought that a creature so unfathomable and grotesque was separated from them by only a single wall made her stomach churn even worse.

Suddenly, she heard a muffled sound—like something popping or bursting. She had just raised her head when Wen Ruyao beside her let out a short, stifled cry of alarm.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing Wen Ruyao curl up, hugging her knees, head deeply buried, Su Xing immediately leaned over in concern.

A long moment passed before Wen Ruyao slowly lifted her pale face. “It… self-destructed.”

“What?!”

Su Xing looked at the phone, which had been tossed aside. The camera lens seemed to have been splattered with something, the image now a blurry mess.

Wen Ruyao switched to another camera angle. Only then could Su Xing see clearly: the walls of the hallway outside were drenched in spray patterns of blood. On the floor, besides a thick, dark pool of blood, lay scattered bits of ruptured organ tissue.

Su Xing clamped a hand over her mouth, spun around, and fled to the bathroom.

“Uurrrgh—”

She dry-heaved violently. Although nothing came out, her stomach finally settled somewhat.

Letting out a long, shaky breath, she turned to find Wen Ruyao standing in the doorway.

“Feeling any better?” the other woman asked softly.

“Yeah… I’m okay.” Su Xing poured a bit of water to rinse her mouth.

Wen Ruyao nodded slightly but didn’t leave. Her delicate face was still entirely bloodless. She waited until Su Xing finished, then bit her lip lightly and followed her back to the bedroom.

On the bed, they lay side by side. Neither spoke. Neither could sleep. But the distance between them had closed considerably.

“Why do you think it self-destructed?” Su Xing was the first to break the silence.

“Perhaps… its body simply couldn’t contain that many types of… genetic material.” Even as the final words left her lips, Wen Ruyao herself could barely believe them.

Su Xing thought she’d lie awake all night without sleep, but eventually, exhaustion won, and she slipped into unconsciousness without realizing it.

When she woke the next day, the room was dim, the bedside nightlight still glowing faintly. Opening her eyes to the unfamiliar ceiling overhead, Su Xing’s mind blanked for two seconds before she abruptly bolted upright in bed.

The right side of her body, shoulder to arm, was sore and numb. She hissed softly, frowning in confusion as she rubbed at it. Lifting her head, she scanned the bedroom, now empty except for herself. After taking two or three seconds to gather her bearings, she swung her legs out of bed.

In the living room, Wen Ruyao was seated on the sofa with a laptop. The television was playing, and when Su Xing walked over to look, she saw it was still looping last night’s news.

“I’ve set aside some water for washing up in the bathroom. If you’re hungry, help yourself to the fridge—just take your proper ration.”

Hearing movement, Wen Ruyao glanced up at her briefly before returning her attention to the laptop screen. Her voice retained its usual cool clarity, but it sounded noticeably softer.

Su Xing ran a hand through her hair. Probably still groggy from just waking, she murmured a “Thanks” and shuffled off to the bathroom. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that Wen Ruyao… wasn’t actually as difficult to get along with as she’d imagined?

The next two or three days passed in the exact same rhythm for Su Xing. Sharing a roof with Wen Ruyao, their cohabitation was neither awkward nor particularly warm—just fine. Outside, aside from the occasional distant, thunderous crash, the world remained shrouded in a dead, profound silence. At the very least, no more danger came their way.

It wasn’t until the fourth day that the dense fog outside finally began to recede.