Eaten Ch.185

Chapter 185: Riot

The class monitor was still the class monitor—different from everyone else. Even in the apocalypse, the class monitor remained as calm and composed as before. Yang Ao thought to himself that he had finally regained a tiny bit of reassurance in this end-of-the-world chaos.

It seemed Xie Chongyi didn’t know that Wu Heng had face blindness; Wu Heng had never shown it at all in front of him.

If he had face blindness… did that mean that, in Wu Heng’s eyes, he was dating a different person every day?

Xie Chongyi increasingly felt that the world treated him rather unfairly.

He moved from the bedside table to a chair and sat alone for two hours. Wu Heng still showed no signs of waking. Dou Lu and the others came to call him to go into the base to find food, but he refused, asking them to just bring him something back. He wanted to stay in the room and wait for Wu Heng to wake up.

“A widow’s confession.”

“Widower.”

“That would be ‘a bereaved husband.’”

“‘Widow’ sounds young and beautiful. ‘Widower’ sounds like an old man with a limp.”

They bickered noisily, and after pulling the door shut and finally leaving, Xie Chongyi glanced at the doorway, then moved his chair closer to the bed. He took Wu Heng’s hand out from under the blanket and held it in his own.

Wu Heng’s hand was alarmingly hot. Pressing on the inside of his wrist, Xie Chongyi could clearly sense the surging, turbulent power within him—but fortunately, it was positive, unlike his own.

Out of the corner of his eye, Xie Chongyi glanced at the floor. In the dim light, his vague, jagged shadow was outlined, and feather-like tendrils swayed across the ground like two black octopus tentacles.

They were moving toward the person on the bed. They were part of him, and what they desired was influenced by him.

Strictly speaking, energy had no humanity—it was him, yet its actions relied purely on animal instinct. There was only “want” or “don’t want,” never “can” or “can’t.”

The dim yellow light of the bedside lamp shone from the side onto Xie Chongyi’s face, making it impossible to tell that his pupils had already turned blood-red—not like glassy red eyeballs, but as if blood had seeped out from his sockets and dyed his eyes.

From the boy’s eyes—now so different from usual—there was no trace of brutality or killing intent, only a heavy, instinctive desire flowing naturally from within.

The poppy itself carried little scent; even in large quantities, at most it gave off a faint, bitter fragrance. Yet at this moment, Xie Chongyi could smell an intense poppy-like aroma, drifting from the person on the bed.

Time passed, second by second. Xie Chongyi raised a hand and covered his eyes.

He didn’t think of himself as a despicable person, nor did he want to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable state. But if one had to get to the root of it, neither he nor Wu Heng could be considered purely human.

The boy slowly rose to his feet. On the wall by the head of the bed, the shadow of soft tendrils coiled around Wu Heng’s neck—at this moment, Wu Heng lay there, allowing himself to be taken.

Suddenly, a strange fragrance drifted in from behind.

Xie Chongyi abruptly turned and stepped toward the window.

A woman in a red dress was running from one end of the street to the other. She was incredibly fast, yet Xie Chongyi could still clearly see the wounds covering her entire body.

“Don’t run!” a deep male voice rang out from above the base. The shadow with outstretched wings looked not much smaller than X, but the one speaking was not it—it was the man standing on its back, dressed in a guard’s uniform.

No sooner had he spoken than several golden arrows shot from his hand toward the ground. The woman was struck directly; blood splattered everywhere. Her body was flung backward, smashing a huge hole into the wall of a shop.

The man and his hawk descended behind the dying woman. His figure loomed above her, yet there was pain hidden in his expression. “You’re not the same as before. Haven’t you noticed?”

The woman lay prone on the ground, her nails digging into the earth. It couldn’t save her life, but it allowed her to speak a few words.

“Does this world… belong to you?”

The man turned his head away. Beside him, the hawk drew in its wings, leaning forward with a predatory glare, poised to strike.

After a long moment, the hawk pecked open the woman’s chest. A dark green, wood-attribute energy core—still attached to blood vessels and brown, root-like tendrils—was forcibly torn out of her body. The man caught the core. After standing there for a long while, he mounted the bird and left.

Xie Chongyi watched the scene quietly. Before long, several people in cleaner uniforms ran over to collect the woman’s body and clean the street.

Below the window, the innkeeper and a few passersby had gathered, whispering among themselves.

Leaning on the windowsill, Xie Chongyi called down, “Who was that?”

Since this was something that could be talked about—and even spread around—the boss readily answered, “She used to be the captain of the guard in our Meizhou Base.”

“That man?”

“No, no—I mean the woman. The man is her subordinate,” the boss said, arms folded, his gaze filled with sympathy.

“Why kill her?”

“She incited survivors to riot, made some anti-human statements, and killed quite a few people. But she wasn’t like that before—she was a good person, even saved my wife once. It’s all because this damn spring just won’t end. The plant symbiotes have gone mad too. This has happened several times this month already.” The boss shook his head and sighed. “People in the base are already jointly drafting a protest letter.”

“A protest letter?”

“Yeah—refuse to accept plant symbiotes into the base, and drive out the ones already inside.”

New guests arrived, and the boss stopped chatting, heading inside with them. The bystanders on the street also gradually dispersed.

“Class Monitor…” Wu Heng’s confused voice sounded in the room—the poor plant symbiote had finally woken up.

—

Wave after wave of protestors carrying signs and flags passed beneath the inn. On the placards, bold characters in bright red or pitch black were filled with condemnation and hatred toward plant symbiotes.

“Drive all symbiotes out of human bases! Defend human territory at all costs!”

“No expulsion? Then eliminate them!”

“Human rights are inviolable!”

Rain drizzled down steadily, yet none of them used umbrellas. They kept shouting in the streets, with no sign of stopping anytime soon.

Wu Heng sat cross-legged on a chair, completely ignoring the noise outside. At first, those who had come back worried that hearing those chants might make him feel uncomfortable—but it turned out they were overthinking it. He was eating the food his teammates brought back in big bites, with an especially good appetite.

His tastes were different from Xie Chongyi’s, so the food they brought back was different too. Wu Heng’s portion was ten unseasoned roast chickens and a large box of raw eggs mixed with raw beef, while Xie Chongyi’s was the same as everyone else’s—rice as rice, dishes as dishes.

“Is it good?” Lin Mengzhi asked, sitting on the floor.

Wu Heng nodded.

Xue Shen said, “On our way back, we also ran into the protest march. Xiao Qi casually grabbed someone to ask—there are quite a lot of plant symbiotes in Meizhou Base. Their levels used to be low, no different from other ability users. But recently, the number of aberrants has increased significantly. There have been several vicious incidents where plant symbiotes brutally killed humans. So now the survivors in the base really hate them, thinking they’re like ticking time bombs.”

Xue Zhi had experience navigating chaotic crowds in bases like this. Leaning against the coffee table, she said in a low voice, “We’d better leave as soon as possible, in case something unexpected happens.”

“What kind of unexpected thing?” Lin Mengzhi asked.

“Maybe the people in charge get pressured by the crowd and decide to eliminate the plant symbiotes,” Xue Zhi said—it was only a guess. “Just saying—don’t take it too seriously.”

“Then let’s all get some rest early tonight. At first light tomorrow, we leave,” Xue Shen said.

Wu Heng lazily nodded, then tore off a chicken leg and stuffed it into his mouth, biting down hard—crunching through tendons and bone with loud crackling sounds.

The small meeting ended, and after everyone left, X and Shukui hopped onto the same bed one after the other, curling up together and falling fast asleep.

“Yang Ao said you have face blindness,” Xie Chongyi said, holding a bowl of hot soup as he glanced at the flower-covered head beside him.

When did Yang Ao say that? Wu Heng froze for a moment.

“A little. Not serious.”

“Then do you know what I look like?” Xie Chongyi asked casually.

“Hm?” Wu Heng turned his head, looking at Xie Chongyi in confusion. “If someone’s good-looking, you remember them at first glance.”

“Oh, then you must’ve remembered me at first glance.” Xie Chongyi lowered his head and took a light sip of the hot soup. The soft, overcooked vegetables in it were hard to identify, but it felt especially soothing going down. “If you feel unwell anywhere, say so right away.”

Wu Heng still hadn’t quite processed the sudden teasing. With a chicken leg in his mouth, he paused, then took it out and slowly set it aside. “If I mutate too, what would you do, Class Monitor? Eliminate me? Or drive me away?”

Xie Chongyi pressed his lips into a faint smile. “Even if you no longer looked human, I’d still like you. At worst, I’d just plant you in a flowerpot. Don’t worry—you wouldn’t lack sunlight or water.”

It sounded like a joke, but Wu Heng seemed to take it seriously. He lifted his gaze and saw the single potted poppy on the windowsill, its slender stem and small bud.

It had drifted from place to place, and had almost been drowned to death by Wu Heng with a bottle of water.

But Xie Chongyi hadn’t lied—he hadn’t deprived the plant of anything. He had even replaced its original shabby plastic pot with a smooth, intact blue porcelain one.

If, in the end, he could only be planted in a pot, then—barring anything unexpected—Xie Chongyi would probably treat him even better.

“That’s good.” Wu Heng let out a sigh of relief. He truly didn’t care what he might become.

Neither of them was particularly talkative, but Wu Heng would occasionally blurt out random remarks, and Xie Chongyi enjoyed teasing him. Even if their words didn’t quite match up, once the conversation started, they could somehow keep talking for a long time.

After washing up and lying down, Wu Heng, still a little lightheaded from the hot water, walked unsteadily to the bed where X and Shukui were sleeping and lay down. X was naturally delighted, immediately lifting one wing to tuck Wu Heng underneath it.

Soon after, Xie Chongyi came out of the bathroom. His hair was still damp and messy. Without a word, he walked around the room once, then expressionlessly reached under X’s wing and pulled Wu Heng out.

“Bastard, bastard!” X squawked.

Holding Wu Heng with one arm, Xie Chongyi let Wu Heng wrap his legs around his waist, freeing up his other hand. Without mercy, he swatted at X, knocking the parrot’s head askew.

X looked like it was about to twist its head a full 180 degrees in shock—its own mother had never hit it.

“Say another dirty word and I’ll twist your head off,” Xie Chongyi threatened gently.

After carrying Wu Heng to the bed, Xie Chongyi carefully pulled the long hair trapped beneath them free. Inevitably, there was some brushing and contact in the process—he could even feel the tiny budding leaves in Wu Heng’s hair trembling against his palm.

Xie Chongyi thought Wu Heng had already fallen completely asleep.

Until he felt Wu Heng’s calf lightly brush against his own.

Then Wu Heng pressed closer, his whole body leaning into him. His lower abdomen nudged against Xie Chongyi clumsily and without restraint, while he bit at his Adam’s apple and mumbled indistinctly, “Class Monitor… help me with it.”

<< _ >>