Eaten Ch.114

Chapter 114: Raising Creatures

When Wu Heng stepped out from Liuying’s gate, many people were already returning, riding on the first light of day. Almost all came in groups; no one dared to go alone in a world overrun by zombies and mutated creatures.

Even the boy had a bird perched on his shoulder.

X looked around, its crimson eyes revealing its extraordinary nature. It glared at anyone who stared at it out of curiosity.

If anyone tried to touch or harm it, it would spread its wings and let out a loud cry: “Try to take advantage of me? You’re asking to die!”

“Whoa, this bird can talk!!!”

“It’s just a parrot. Who knows, a mutated parrot might even be able to do stand-up comedy,” the man teased the bird. “Hey bird, can you do comedy?”

Before X could get upset, Wu Heng had already walked past the group, leaving them only to watch his retreating back in awe.

“See that? The feathers on that bird actually shine. No matter what, you can’t get that kind of plumage just by feeding it meat every day.”

“In times like this, humans aren’t even as impressive as birds,” someone sighed, looking at the bird.

“In the old world, would you have been like that? Haha.”

“…Screw you.”

X heard everything clearly. It tilted its body and snuggled against Wu Heng. “Mama,” it said, its voice remarkably sweet.

Wu Heng paused briefly, then lifted his hand to brush it off his shoulder.

X followed him for quite a distance before daring to perch on his shoulder again.

The parrot had grown noticeably. Even its smallest parts were now bigger than before, and it had gotten much heavier.

Wu Heng hadn’t just brushed it off because it was making noise; a thought had suddenly struck him—if this fat bird stayed on one shoulder all the time, would it cause uneven shoulders?

The base gradually disappeared behind the boy and his bird. Human traces became sparse until there was no sign of anyone, and the forest opened its enormous mouth toward the human boy.

The ground was littered with half-withered plants and countless small paths carved by feet. Many areas had been dug up, and even some tree bark bore the marks of having a few strips scraped off.

The plants, wilted and listless under the scorching sun by day, busied themselves repairing at night. The air was a complex mix of scents: various flora and fauna, human sweat, blood, and the foul stench of zombies drifting from somewhere unknown.

Wu Heng carried only a dagger, using his senses to discern the smells and move calmly in a single direction.

“Move” was an understatement; his speed made him seem like a ghost flitting through the forest, impossible to tell whether the being weaving among the trees was human at all.

A green light caught Wu Heng’s eye. He slowed his pace, switching to normal movement, approaching silently and deliberately.

X tightened its wings and leaned forward, peering ahead, ready to strike at any moment.

“Rustle, rustle, rustle”—

A soft rustling sound.

Countless tiny points of green light rose from behind the thick black thorns ahead. Wu Heng lashed out with a vine, and a crackling sound echoed in the air. Following the sound with his gaze, he realized these green lights were fireflies.

The lights flickered constantly, floating at varying heights, their numbers increasing, like glowing jellyfish drifting in the sea.

The fireflies illuminated Wu Heng’s face, cautiously approaching on their own. In his eyes, they shone brighter and brighter.

They were slightly larger than the fireflies from before, but not unnervingly so. They felt non-aggressive, their presence gentle and serene.

X, however, could not appreciate them. It snapped its beak around one, clicked it a few times, and swallowed it whole.

Wu Heng didn’t understand what was so tasty about the insects. He sidestepped a few fireflies trying to cling to him and reached out, catching one in his hand.

The firefly’s wings vibrated in his palm, its pointed tail pressing lightly against his skin, and its soft abdomen radiated a gentle warmth.

Light flowed from between Wu Heng’s fingers, illuminating his hand like warm jade, the green veins faintly visible beneath his skin.

X let out a soft sigh of admiration.

“Is it good?”

X tilted its head, clearly not understanding.

“Is it tasty?” Wu Heng released his hand, watching the green light drift lazily back into the air.

X stared at him for a moment and said, “Tasty.”

Wu Heng still had little appetite for the insect.

Fireflies are sensitive to cold and mostly appear in warm, humid areas. After several days of drought, their sudden presence was unusual. Mutation could not violate the basic logic of biological development, so there must be a nest or a food storage nearby.

He extended a vine and gently parted the thorns in front of him. A strange, sweet fragrance rose from the roots. One boy, one bird, and one vine all followed the scent—and at the base of the thorn bush lay a person.

The person wore dark clothing, had short hair, and exposed skin of a dusky tone. Of medium height and slightly thin, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female.

Countless fireflies scurried from beneath this person, rising and swirling into the air.

Wu Heng turned the person over.

“Wow!” X spread its wings and pretended to be shocked (exaggerated version).

The person was a middle-aged man. Patches of skin on his face were missing, revealing pink flesh, with several fireflies perched on the exposed flesh, their abdomens swollen.

But that alone did not shock the boy or the bird. What startled them was the scene beneath him: white bones and limbs were scattered throughout, thick thorn roots weaving in and out, and fireflies flitting through the space.

Wu Heng stepped forward a few paces, standing at the edge, head bowed.

This was not flat ground but a column-like pit. Its walls were covered with brown thorn roots. Many corpses lay below, some human, some zombie.

The visible ground was like the tip of an iceberg—only a tiny fraction of what lay beneath.

Wu Heng intended to leave immediately. But as he turned, his ankle was suddenly gripped by a force rising from the ground.

Without thinking, his vine was about to strike—but the one holding his ankle was not a mutated plant. It was the man he had just turned over.

He’s… still not dead?

“Save…” he tried to open his eyes, but could only lift his eyelids a slit. The face of the young boy above him looked so puzzled that it sent chills down his spine.

“No saving,” Wu Heng said softly. “In your state, even if I saved you, no base would accept you. Not just Liuying—no base at all.”

Rejected, the man ground his teeth until they creaked. “You’re letting me die…”

Wu Heng found the man’s reaction strangely fascinating. He crouched down and looked at him with a faint, eerie gaze. “If I were you, I’d start thinking carefully.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Whether you’re still worth saving,” Wu Heng asked. “Do you think you are?”

At that moment, in the man’s eyes, the boy was the embodiment of cold utilitarianism. His cloudy eyes rolled continuously, and just as Wu Heng had predicted, he began to think.

After several tense seconds, he looked up, a mixture of fear and certainty in his gaze. “I am! I am! I am! At Chuishan Mountain in Yunling, I discovered something incredible.” His voice fluctuated—quiet, then loud, then quiet again. Clearly, he would only reveal everything he knew if he was saved.

Wu Heng paused for a moment, then plucked a firefly off the man’s face. It had been feeding and immediately bit at his finger.

His fingers transformed into a vine, trapping the firefly on it. He lifted it to his shoulder. X casually plucked the struggling firefly off as if skimming it from a skewer.

“What… are you?”

“Roar—”

Dr. Chen appeared, his pale and damaged face coming into view. The first thing he noticed was the human lying on the ground.

“Finally, it’s mealtime.”

Wu Heng didn’t look at him. “This isn’t about eating.”

Enduring his hunger, he prepared for the next stage of treatment—rough and unavoidable.

Meisida watched helplessly as a zombie suddenly appeared out of nowhere, wobbling toward him. He was too frightened to speak, let alone answer any questions from the zombie.

It wasn’t until the pain from being gnawed at began to subside, and the itching inside his body gradually faded, that Meisida felt his stomach churn. He looked at the boy standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, propped himself up, and vomited violently.

The pile he expelled lay still at first. After two or three seconds, it started to move, scattering into countless tiny black specks that fled in all directions.

“They’re all insect eggs,” Wu Heng said, stepping back with a look of disgust.

Meisida, weakened and gasping for breath, wiped the saliva from his chin. He glanced at the zombies, then at the boy, and almost without thinking, scrambled to his feet and ran.

“Wow! Awesome, awesome!”

X leapt off Wu Heng’s shoulder, flying like a stray projectile toward the fleeing man.

The massive mutated bird spread its wings, flattening the grass and shrubs on both sides. Approaching the man’s back, it coiled its body and kicked, sending him flying.

In the next instant, a green blur streaked past. The boy’s right foot landed on the man’s back of the head. Without using much force, he pressed the man’s entire skull into the ground.

The man’s head vanished beneath the soil. Veins bulged across his neck and hands, his limbs twisted violently, and every scream he tried to make was muffled by the earth.

Dr. Chen, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, looked down with a detached air. “The most important thing for a person is to accept their fate. Just like me—since the moment I decided to study medicine, I accepted mine.”

Wu Heng’s curiosity about Yunling had not yet faded. Before the man could suffocate, he lifted his foot, not asking why the man had tried to run. Everyone resists being restrained, and he was no different—but clearly, this man didn’t have the strength to resist.

Still, watching him struggle was pointless.

Wu Heng pulled out a leather collar. This collar had been taken back in Kuhuang; he had grabbed a Hope Ring on a whim.

It had originally been around the neck of a little zombie, which had exploded. The Hope Ring had fallen in front of him.

The chip and circuitry inside had already been removed, with thin strands of poppy fiber threaded throughout. From the outside, it still looked like an ordinary collar.

Wu Heng placed it around the man’s neck.

“Run again, and I won’t have to chase you anymore.”

Dr. Chen muttered inwardly. What a hassle—just eat him cleanly and be done with it; at least he wouldn’t suffer while alive.

“My name’s Meisida,” the man said, tugging at the collar around his neck. It felt cool, like a damp snake coiled against his skin.

X tilted its head. “All good?”

“Has an accent,” Wu Heng commented, then looked at Meisida. “Go back to Liuying first. I have some things to handle. When I’m done, I’ll come find you.”

“This late? You’re not returning to the base?” Meisida asked in astonishment.

“None of your business!” X shouted.

Mutated birds acting alone were now rare; most traveled in flocks. Domestic parrots were even less common. Pets were usually cats or dogs, but whether a mutated animal would still recognize a master after mutation was another matter. Birds that were both mutated and obedient—and could speak so much—were exceedingly rare.

Meisida had once seen a group of ability users forcibly take several young girls’ mutated Rottweilers. Only one of the girls had abilities, and even then, she was unskilled. The dog’s survival had depended entirely on its strength. But a mutated dog like that required an even stronger master to keep it under control.

Meisida wondered just how powerful this boy must be. Not only could he fight solo, he had a solitary mutated parrot, and he had even tamed an evolved healing-type zombie.

He stood in place for a long time before finishing his thoughts. As he turned back toward Liuying, he tugged again at the collar around his neck. Thinking of the boy’s unfathomable strength, the discomfort of being forced to wear the collar faded considerably.

Dr. Chen followed him, still puzzled. “Why save him?”

“Yunling is a route we must pass through. Learning about it ahead of time will save us some trouble later,” Wu Heng said casually.

“And what if he lies?” Dr. Chen did not trust human nature, especially after seeing this man try to run off without paying the fee.

Wu Heng thought for a moment and said, “Then we either return, kill him, and continue on, or keep him with us.”

“So that means we’d have to take care of his food and drink too?!”

At the mention of food, Wu Heng’s expression grew even colder. “Keep dreaming.”

“When will I get to eat?”

Finding Dr. Chen’s constant chatter annoying, Wu Heng withdrew him into the spatial pocket and continued on with only the parrot.

The deeper the night, the quieter the forest became. And the quieter it was, the more any sound seemed eerily sinister.

The overly dense forest no longer had paths. Especially in the direction Wu Heng was heading, the plants grew thick and frenzied, unlike the soft vitality of before. They seemed to actively reach forward, their leaves as hard as saw blades, their stems forming networks and columns.

It was unbearably hot.

For the first time, Wu Heng pushed all the hair off his forehead, silently wondering if he had been too greedy.

Until the sound of water tinkling reached him.

He quickened his pace, and in an instant, he appeared beside a mountain stream. But faced with the overwhelming coolness of the water, he suddenly halted.

The forest vanished before his eyes, replaced by the deep night. What he sought lay on the peak of the opposite mountain.

Beneath his feet was a cliff bare of any vegetation.

Wu Heng lowered his gaze for a long moment, planting his vine into the cliff face. Where brown met red, sharp-edged rocks dotted the surface, and the poppy fiber slowly began to reclaim the space. Large stones rolled down as it dug inch by inch, until the vine fully penetrated the ground and entered the water.

When the evening breeze swept past, the boy squatted at the edge of the mist-filled mountain stream.

X dove straight into the water, diving up and down until the dust on its feathers was completely washed away. It then leapt onto a smooth black stone, polished by the flowing water, shaking its feathers vigorously.

Upstream, Wu Heng needn’t worry about drinking his bath water. He bent down, cupping handfuls of water to his mouth. Water trickled from between his fingers down his arms and neck, replacing the sweat on his pale, delicate face with the cool mountain spring.

In the tranquil yet perilous forest, his presence was not out of place. When he bent to drink deeply, he seemed more like a guardian spirit of this woodland, an entity sprouting naturally from the land and bearing a striking resemblance to an elf.

The poppy vines also sank into the water, floating freely below like countless green snakes.

“Cluck.”

“Cluck cluck.”

Wu Heng withdrew his hands from the water, discerning the calls coming from not far across the stream.

“Cluck.”

A flash of piercing red appeared, and the grass swayed violently. Then a chicken head emerged, looking left and right before finally noticing the human squatting by the water’s edge.

“Cluck cluck cluck.” Its throat sounded continuously, and its eyes betrayed displeasure and wariness.

Yet it still stepped out from the grass, moving with delicate, measured steps toward the water.

Wu Heng remained perfectly still, and so did the poppy vines. X, however, boldly approached.

This chicken was unlike any Wu Heng had seen before, slightly smaller than the chickens he had encountered or eaten. Its plumage was exquisite: dark green, crimson, snow white, and brownish yellow, sprinkled with small white spots. Its tail feathers were long—longer than its body—also adorned with a few white specks.

It reached the water’s edge, lowered its beak, and drank voraciously while keeping an eye on the human across the stream.

At that moment, the nearby grass rustled again.

Several of its kin hopped out, and a few dove-like chickens appeared as well. At the rear followed a line of chirping chicks.

“Must be wild chickens,” Wu Heng murmured.

The adult males and females were steadier, drinking at the water’s edge. The chicks, however, dove straight into the water, “Duang!” landing right in front of Wu Heng. One even wandered to his feet and gently pecked at his pants.

X, watching this, was furious. He shook its wings, its round body charging at the chickens to drive them off.

The chicks scattered in panic; two even fell face-first to the ground.

Only when all of them had been chased away completely, and the area was spotless, did X seem satisfied.

Watching the fluffy chicks running everywhere and the robust, plump roosters, Wu Heng swallowed. He wasn’t hungry—he just hadn’t eaten them before.

Before he could act, the poppy vines moved—darting like a swimming snake through the chickens. Feathers flew, squawks erupted, and suddenly there were seven or eight chickens inside Wu Heng’s spatial pocket.

Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? He didn’t have to eat them right away; keeping them in the space and eating when he wanted would save food and even provide a kind of mental leisure.

But wild chickens alone wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t survive long; they needed food, land, and a proper forest—a complete, healthy ecosystem.

Wu Heng sat cross-legged on the shore, resting his chin on his hand, hesitating. This seemed too troublesome: he’d have to care for people, raise chickens, and also farm the land.

Inside the space, Dr. Chen was shrieking as he chased a flock of wild chickens around in chaos. Spotting Wu Heng, he gratefully exclaimed, “Thank you! Thank you! I finally experience the joy of being a zombie! It’s like you humans eating mangoes under a shower—my instinct craves chasing living creatures and biting them!”

“…” Wu Heng stopped him. “I need to trouble you with something.” He rarely spoke with such politeness and seriousness.

Dr. Chen had a bad feeling and said no.

Wu Heng explained his idea to him.

“Raise chickens? You want me to raise chickens? I’m trained in medicine, I’m a doctor, and I’m a zombie! Eating chickens might be reasonable, but raising them?” Dr. Chen strongly objected.

Wu Heng said, “If I can take care of you, what’s so strange about you raising chickens?”

“You taking care of me is the same as me raising chickens?”

“You’re worse than chickens—smelly, poor taste, low nutrition, pure junk food,” Wu Heng remarked, then turned to leave the space.

But his voice didn’t fade completely. “Everything inside the space is yours to maintain. If anything goes wrong, I’ll come for you. Dr. Chen, I hope you won’t disappoint me, okay?”

After discussing with Chen Meng, the remaining flock of wild chickens had already scattered without a trace.

“Shall we transfer some of the plants and soil here into the space?” Wu Heng asked the parrot perched on a nearby rock.

X puffed out its chest and twisted its head, ignoring him.

Wu Heng didn’t bother with its antics. Using his vines, he dug up the grass patches where the wild chickens had been, roots and all, along with the surrounding soil, turf, shrubs, wild fruit trees that looked unpalatable, and even a pond.

Raising creatures—especially wild animals—was extremely demanding on the environment. The ecosystem had to be suitable for survival. Understanding this, Wu Heng almost emptied the vegetation within a one-kilometer radius, even drawing the mountain stream into the space to form a small pond. Unfortunately, without moving an entire mountain, the pond could only circulate water and required periodic refilling.

Even after accommodating so many elements at once, the space still used less than one-twentieth of its total area. Poppy vines grew quickly; once buds appeared, the space expanded tenfold—or more.

Dr. Chen took off his lab coat, donned work clothes inside the space, and raised a shovel, ready to start landscaping—but he grumbled, “At most, we can only raise chickens.”

“Oh.”

With that, Wu Heng abandoned his original plan of killing the mutated sheep before bringing them into the space. Instead, he decided to catch a few live ones.

Chickens lay eggs, eggs produce chickens, sheep give birth to sheep—far more cost-effective than consuming them all at once. Even if the animals in the space couldn’t grow fully, they were alive, and Wu Heng had always preferred eating living creatures.

On the mountain, the sheep grazed slowly, heads down. In the night, the grass was a deep, somber green, and the moving flocks resembled clusters of slowly drifting white clouds.

Wu Heng stood silently atop the peak. Looking out, the mountains stretched beyond sight, yet his eyes already glimmered gray-green.

At that moment, he strangely thought of Xie Chongyi, hundreds of kilometers away.

Had he reached Jingzhou yet?

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