Eaten Ch.40

Chapter 40: You let a zombie treat me?

The glass façade of the central tower reflected the figure of a man plummeting rapidly downward.

The hem of his bloodstained coat was caught by the howling air currents, fluttering like a red butterfly with broken wings.

A gray giant bird tucked in its wings, its twin pupils locked sharply on the falling figure below as it let out a series of sharp, frantic cries.

There were still survivors inside the building.

Several people pressed against the windows, screaming—

“Someone jumped!”

“He couldn’t hold on any longer?”

“No one’s coming to save us!”

Whoosh—

A huge black shadow, falling even faster, streaked past their field of vision.

“A mutant beast!”

“Is it… hunting? Hunting humans!?”

The distance between man and bird closed in an instant. The wind tore through the creature’s hardened feathers, making them rattle violently. Just as it was about to reach the man, the bird suddenly spread its wings—far larger than before—casting an enormous black shadow that swallowed the space below.

Boom—

A streak of green suddenly burst up from the ground below, ripping through the pavement and shooting straight toward Wu Heng, who was still falling.

The vines surged upward like vivid green serpents, breaking through the earth and unfurling in a dazzling spray, spreading wide beneath Wu Heng to weave a net that stretched into the dark night.

The wind at his ears stripped away all other sounds. From below, steel spikes shot upward like a meteor shower.

X screeched sharply, veering sideways to dodge the rain of green arrows. Midair, it twisted deftly around and dove toward Wu Heng again—this time, even faster.

The vines turned into countless writhing tendrils, lashing madly toward the mutant bird while flinging out branches to catch and wrap around Wu Heng.

Recognizing the vines as its own, X let out a fierce, echoing cry.

But the other party was clearly in a frenzy, utterly unrecognizing—even more violently launching a barrage of attacks at it.

X was forced farther and farther away, driven back again and again.

Several times it tried to fold its wings and charge back in, only to almost have its heart ripped out by the vines.

Yet just as the vines were about to touch the human’s body, a shadow—darker than the night itself—flashed across the air.

A force from that shadow struck out, slicing through a large swath of the flexible vines clean at their midsections.

The vine cluster seemed to freeze for a moment—then burst out with even more tendrils.

The rustling of their rapid growth sounded like a swarm of serpents spreading across new territory.

Outside the windows of the Central Tower, the world had turned into a writhing sea of green.

Moonlight was completely shut out; the interior sank into pitch-black darkness.

The falling youth was already swallowed within the thick mass of vines.

Beyond the wall of vegetation, the giant bird cried out in alarm.

Within Wu Heng’s wavering field of vision, a black shadow flickered in and out—like a man-shaped wisp of darkness. Gradually, Xie Chongyi’s handsome yet distant face came into view.

“I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

He reached out, caught Wu Heng’s wrist, and yanked him firmly into his arms.

“Your dream nearly drove me insane, and here you are—playing games with your two pets.”

The roar of the wind was deafening.

Wu Heng didn’t have the strength to speak loud enough for him to hear; he simply buried his face into Xie Chongyi’s chest.

Xie Chongyi tightened his arm around Wu Heng’s waist. When they were only a few dozen meters from the ground, their forms flickered twice—and landed safely.

Above them, the towering vines arched high, forming a seamless dome that seemed ready to strike at any moment.

Wu Heng looked up weakly, his eyes barely open.

“Stop.”

“It won’t listen to you anymore,” Xie Chongyi said.

Wu Heng glanced at him but said nothing.

He turned his wrist, and the utility knife in his pocket appeared in his hand.

Before Xie Chongyi could even react, there was a shhk—the blade sank straight into Wu Heng’s own palm.

A faint, collective hiss rippled through the vine swarm.

Their whole mass shuddered violently, and in the next instant, the taut, aggressive forms went slack—collapsing to the ground in silence.

The giant bird finally managed to break through, swooping down and stomping furiously in every direction. Its sharp beak clamped onto a thick vine, tearing it apart and scattering fragments as it vented its rage in a wild frenzy.

The poppy vine coiled back into a single slender green cord, wrapping gently around Wu Heng’s neck—once again appearing docile and obedient.

Xie Chongyi lowered his gaze, calmly watching the blood dripping from Wu Heng’s palm.

“Your symbiotic creature’s that hard to control?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Wu Heng replied evenly, pulling the knife out without so much as a flinch. He wiped the crimson blade against his sleeve. “It’s injured. It should’ve been in a recovery phase. My fall must’ve startled it—it was forcibly activated, and its self-defense system kicked in. That’s why it attacked everything around me indiscriminately just now.”

Seeing the faintly amused expression on Xie Chongyi’s face, Wu Heng added after a pause, “That’s just my guess.”

“Wu Heng, doesn’t it hurt?”

Behind Wu Heng, hordes of zombies were already staggering toward them—swaying, dark shapes under the dim light. The low, guttural groans rose and fell, sometimes near, sometimes far, but steadily drawing closer.

Wu Heng didn’t answer. His face was pale; he merely used the sleeve of his uninjured hand to wipe the blood from his palm in a perfunctory motion.

“Why are you here?”

“The swarm followed you. Our side’s fine.”

“But the swarm has already come back.”

“Fate,” Xie Chongyi said lightly.

“…”

Wu Heng tilted his head back, his gaze meeting the eyes peering out from the different floors of the Central Tower. It had been half a month. Very few people had left—because outside, things weren’t any better than in Hanzhou. Nowhere on earth had been spared.

The survivors watching them were all gaunt and terrified, their faces pale and waxen. Wu Heng withdrew his gaze.

“Your ability,” he said quietly, “is really something.”

‘If only it were mine.’

“Stop pretending,” Xie Chongyi said, glancing once at the giant bird clearing the street. “Let’s get out of here first.”

Wu Heng had just nodded when the ground beneath them suddenly trembled—first a faint quiver, then a violent jolt. From deep below came a muffled, resonant growl that rippled through the earth.

He turned to Xie Chongyi. “What was that—”

Before he could finish, a thin crack split open in the distance and raced toward them like lightning, slicing its way along the street until it reached their feet.

For a heartbeat, the whole world seemed to fall utterly still.

X, who had been fanning away the zombie horde with its wings, suddenly whipped around and charged toward them. Overhead, flocks of birds and swarms of insects erupted into the sky. From the shadows of the surrounding buildings, mutant beasts emerged in droves. The once-dead city seemed to awaken in an instant—alive again, even louder and more chaotic than before the apocalypse.

“It’s an earthquake.”

The calmness on Xie Chongyi’s face vanished, replaced by sharp alertness. He reached out, pulled Wu Heng into his arms, and in one swift motion lifted him horizontally. With a flex of his legs, he leapt into the air—vanishing with Wu Heng into the vast night.

The moment they left, a deafening crack split the air. The ground tore apart like a watermelon being cleaved in two, the rupture racing outward faster than the world could react.

The fissure stretched for miles, swallowing buildings, cars, trees, and everything in its path. The roaring of the collapsing earth mixed with explosions and the desperate cries of humankind—forming the first movement in the symphony of disaster.

Inside the city, survivors who had hidden away finally realized what was happening. Panic spread as they rushed outside in a frenzy.

If not for the earthquake, no one would have guessed that this seemingly empty city still held so many people.

The starving zombies had long been waiting. Their eyes burned only with hunger—ignoring the tilting, collapsing buildings around them as they howled and hurled themselves onto one human after another.

Out of nowhere, a troop of agile red-eyed monkeys appeared—baring their fangs, their fur bristling like steel needles, their teeth curved like hooks. They leapt into the chaos, hunting alongside the zombies, tearing through the fleeing humans.

Those who had hidden indoors for so long—starving, too afraid to ever step outside—barely managed a few steps before being dragged down. Several monkeys working together could easily rip an adult man apart within moments.

As blood flowed like rivers through the streets, the roaring from beneath the ground grew louder, and the tremors intensified violently in an instant.

Clutching fresh human limbs, the monkey horde shrieked and screeched as they bounded out of the crumbling buildings, fleeing toward the mountains.

From the depths of the earth came a long, echoing howl.

The moonlight shone coldly over the world. Icy rain poured ceaselessly. Buildings collapsed one after another. Everything humanity had built and accumulated over centuries stood on the brink of annihilation.

And in that moment, those who once fancied themselves the creators of all life were forced to confront a brutal, blood-soaked truth: all things are equal.

The tectonic plates continued to grind and collide, and the ground rolled in waves. The dozen or so lakes around Hanzhou rippled and surged in response.

The sound of churning water swept through the city. A torrent of floodwater surged in, methodically filling every crevice around it. The water turned from clear to muddy, devouring everything in its path—the shards of steel and concrete, wrecked vehicles, the zombies still roaring for flesh, and the humans still screaming for help.

Everything was swallowed whole.

Xie Chongyi held Wu Heng aloft at the edge of the ruined city, high above the devastation. The color had drained from his face, leaving it pale as paper.

He had borne the brunt of the battle earlier—the heaviest of all their fighters—and hadn’t even paused to rest before coming here to save him.

The ground below was far too unstable to land. All he could do was hover there, keeping Wu Heng in his arms as they floated above the ruinous night.

X beat its wings, hovering behind the two of them, occasionally using them to swat away falling chips of rock and sparks.

Wu Heng tilted his head and leaned against Xie Chongyi’s chest, but out of the corner of his eye he could still see the city’s horrific scene below.

His consciousness was already fuzzy; he mumbled, calling ‘class monitor’.

Xie Chongyi looked down at him.

“Why is there an earthquake?” Wu Heng knew he was cold-blooded by nature, but compared to this catastrophe, he was nothing.

Xie Chongyi tugged one corner of his mouth. “It’s a normal phenomenon that happens once every few billion years — we just happened to run into it.”

Wu Heng: “Is that how the dinosaurs died out too?”

Xie Chongyi: “Different paths, same end. But I’m only guessing — the cause behind the dinosaurs’ extinction is still debated.”

The person in his arms lay motionless for a long time. When the boy looked down again, the other had already fainted; the green vine curled around his neck had gone limp, hanging listlessly over his shoulder.

X kept chirping and chattering at Xie Chongyi’s ear.

“Probably the symbiote can no longer extract enough heat from human food,” Xie Chongyi said, his gaze wandering over the fat belly and wings of the big bird. “You’re in such a hurry — maybe I should just slaughter you and give your master a proper meal.”

He spoke with a smile, but a tint of blood spread slowly across his eyes like a rising crimson mist; the patterns on the surface of his irises rippled faintly. In an instant his whole presence transformed — cold, murderous, as if no longer human.

Seeing this, X immediately fell silent at Xie Chongyi’s ear and went fully alert, guarding against any danger that might appear at any moment.

—

Hanzhou had become a soaked, ruined wasteland. Only a few buildings still stood upright—but even those were battered beyond recognition.

Haa—haa—

From beneath the rubble, the zombies that hadn’t been completely crushed or buried began to crawl out again, dragging their mangled bodies across the debris. Among them were fresh victims—infected only minutes ago, still in the final throes of mutation.

Xie Chongyi carried Wu Heng toward the hospital, with X following closely behind.

Hanzhou City First Hospital was half-collapsed, its structure leaning precariously to one side. Xie Chongyi teleported directly through the hospital doors. Behind him, the enormous bird tried to squeeze in headfirst—only to wedge itself tight in the entrance.

“…”

Xie Chongyi, already halfway down the corridor, turned his head back.

“If you can’t figure out how to shrink or grow, then just stay there and become zombie food.”

With that, his figure vanished down the dark hallway.

The hospital, inside and out, teemed with far more zombies than anywhere else—some still in white lab coats, some in patient gowns, others clutching lunch containers like visiting family members. All of them were rotting flesh and shredded limbs, stumbling forward in grotesque mockery of their former lives.

Hearing the groaning growls closing in behind, X struggled frantically. Just as a zombie’s gnashing jaws were about to bite its tail feathers, it managed to slip inside. Its massive form shrank mid-motion until it was once again the size of a gray parrot. But the frightened bird still scrambled wildly—running, hopping, flapping—before finally catching up to Xie Chongyi and Wu Heng after a long, chaotic chase.

Exhausted, it landed on Xie Chongyi’s shoulder and squatted there, panting.

Creak—

The door to the emergency room swung open soundlessly. Both inside and outside were pitch-black; only thin strands of moonlight and reflections from the rain shimmered faintly through the gloom, painting everything in eerie shadows.

“Oh my—come for a consultation, are you?” a man’s surprised voice called out.

The voice came before the figure. A flash of white fabric—the corner of a lab coat—drifted into Xie Chongyi and X’s view. The man leaned halfway out of the doorway. Half of his face was stripped of flesh, exposing gleaming white bone, while the other half remained intact. The eyeball in his socket, though, was a dull yellow-white.

He was still dressed neatly in his work attire—a doctor’s white coat, a stethoscope around his neck, disinfectant in one hand and surgical forceps in the other—so professional it was almost absurd.

He grinned with the half of his mouth that was left, stepped aside, and leaned against the door. “Quick, quick, quick — bring him in, lay him on the bed, let me cut him open and have a look.”

Xie Chongyi stood straight, holding Wu Heng in his arms. His posture was upright and calm, and with a faint smile, he replied, “Then I’ll cut you open first — have a look myself.”

The words had barely left his lips when something rustled beneath the man’s white coat — his already rotting, foul-smelling organs suddenly spilled out for no apparent reason, splattering messily onto the floor.

The man shuffled his feet in confusion, stepping into the pile of guts with wet squelches, muttering to himself, “Truly… the doctor cannot heal himself.”

Sentient zombies had existed since the beginning — they were just so few that one rarely ever encountered them.

This was the first time Xie Chongyi had come face-to-face with an evolved zombie.

“Let’s make a deal,” Xie Chongyi said, glancing down at the person in his arms. “Help me take a look at my friend. He’s injured.”

X twisted its head around in disbelief, letting out a shrill screech right next to Xie Chongyi’s ear.

“Idiot.” It had never cursed someone stronger than itself before.

The half-faced zombie, still muttering under his breath, froze at Xie Chongyi’s words. The hands holding the forceps and disinfectant stopped midair, his expression lighting up with barely contained excitement. “You believe me?!”

“No.”

The man tilted his head in confusion, and a bloodthirsty gleam flashed through his eyes.

But before he could react, a hand appeared behind him — pale, clean fingers pressing against the center of his forehead.

With a sharp crack, Xie Chongyi’s joined index and middle fingers pierced straight into the zombie’s brain.

“A conscious zombie should be capable of practicing medicine too — it just depends on whether you’re willing. Why don’t you try? If you can’t…” Xie Chongyi didn’t finish the sentence, but his fingers sank another inch, reaching the spot where the energy core was lodged.

“I can, I can! I’ll take a look!” The man swallowed hard — though his throat no longer had the structure for it — and for the first time showed genuine fear.

Because the boy holding the patient was clearly still standing not far from him, yet behind that boy there appeared an equally dangerous aura.

This young human was not someone he could provoke.

So jealous — they’re both human; the other is an ability-user, while he’d become a neither-human-nor-ghost zombie. Before the end of the world he’d at least been a PhD!

X was stunned too, its eyes darting back and forth between the two Xie Chongyis — how could there be two of them?

They stepped into the emergency room. Calling it a whole other world wouldn’t be an exaggeration; it was a complete contrast to the chaos outside. Everything inside was orderly and well-managed. A few resuscitation beds held several “people,” and nurses pushed treatment carts back and forth between the beds and the workrooms.

The nurses’ dress and grooming strictly followed hospital standards for medical staff; they moved with clear roles and gentle steps, their manners indistinguishable from before the apocalypse.

Upon seeing the newly admitted “patient,” several nurses turned with curiosity. Large patches of dried blood stained their chests; their bodies were far more rotten than the male doctor’s. Of course, they were not evolved zombies—just ordinary ones.

Xie Chongyi gently placed Wu Heng on the resuscitation bed at the far edge of the room.

The scent of a living person drifted to the noses of the nearby “patients” and nurses.

Several of the “patients” tried to sit up on their beds, hissing and roaring, and the nurses unconsciously clustered around them.

The male doctor glanced awkwardly at Xie Chongyi. “Don’t be afraid—I’ve already strapped them down with restraints. Their condition is… troublesome.”

He then turned to the nurse closest to him and ordered sternly, “Don’t you want this department’s monthly performance? Push that treatment cart over here!”

Xie Chongyi leaned against the wall, watching him calmly. “Hurry up. I’m in a rush.”

“No problem!” The male doctor straightened his white coat, took up his stethoscope, and bent over Wu Heng’s chest to listen.

The instant he leaned close, his mind went blank from the overwhelming scent of fresh meat. After taking a deep breath, he placed the stethoscope against Wu Heng’s chest.

The boy’s heartbeat was half the normal rate, its strength so faint it was barely there. The patient’s weakness and critical condition gradually pushed back the doctor’s ravenous hunger. He grew serious, raising his head. “You’re the patient’s family?”

“…” Xie Chongyi gave a lazy nod.

The doctor straightened up, touching the exposed bone of his chin. “The patient’s energy core absorbed more energy than his body can contain. Simply put, he overate. Lucky for him—otherwise he’d have exploded on the spot.”

“But our hospital doesn’t have any medicine to aid energy absorption,” the doctor’s voice lowered as his gaze swept over the boy’s body. “Still… I can at least treat and bandage his external injuries.”

A nurse pushed the treatment cart over but didn’t move away afterward, staring fixedly at the two humans as yellowish drool dripped endlessly from her mouth.

The doctor understood. With a sigh, he tore open a pack of surgical gloves, pulled them on, and began disinfecting and dressing the patient’s wounds.

Wu Heng’s worst injury was his palm. He didn’t seem to feel pain, and the cuts he’d made on himself were frighteningly clean and precise. The gash was deep enough to expose muscle; as the doctor dabbed iodine on it with a cotton swab, blood welled out in dark, steady streams.

The doctor took a deep breath. Behind him, the zombies were growing restless and agitated.

“Keep going,” Xie Chongyi said, unhurried.

The doctor’s rotting eyes began to ooze pus, and a low, guttural growl escaped his throat despite himself.

He moved mechanically through the disinfection steps before applying the medicine. The scent of raw flesh in his nose made his whole body tremble, and from deep within came a voice whispering again and again: Eat him. Eat him.

Wu Heng’s palm was quickly treated and bandaged.

The wounds on his face and neck only needed disinfection and ointment, no bandages, so the doctor’s movements grew faster.

Then Wu Heng’s eyelids suddenly twitched.

As the cool iodine brushed past his jawline, his fingers spasmed, and his eyes snapped open.

The zombie’s rancid, half-decayed face was just inches away.

Wu Heng’s heart gave a violent thud.

Without thinking, he snatched the knife from his pocket and stabbed toward the zombie.

The male doctor staggered back several meters, patted the dust from his coat, and huffed, “Medical assault, is it?”

Wu Heng narrowed his eyes. His pale face was almost translucent, devoid of any trace of blood. The darkness in his eyes made him look both fragile and coldly beautiful—but anyone able to sense his energy field would never mistake him for delicate.

Knowing he couldn’t win against the two of them, the doctor began muttering again, “I’m a white-clad angel, you know. Can’t you people be a little nicer to a white-clad angel?”

Wu Heng turned to Xie Chongyi in confusion.

Xie Chongyi walked toward him. “He’s a mutated zombie. He still thinks he’s a doctor, still treats patients in the hospital. Only… the patients strapped to those beds are all zombies, and so are his colleagues.”

Wu Heng’s confusion wasn’t about that—it was about something else.

“You let a zombie treat me?”

Xie Chongyi casually grabbed several cans of topical medicine and iodine from the treatment cart and stuffed them into his pocket. “A dying horse might as well be treated like a living one.”

<< _ >>

**TN

Treat a dead horse as if it were alive. – This idiom is used to describe a situation where one tries to salvage a hopeless situation or to make the best out of a bad circumstance, even when the chances of success are slim. It emphasizes the idea of taking action or trying to find a solution, even when it seems futile, often out of desperation or necessity.