Eaten Ch.74

Chapter 74: Crisp and Sweet

A long, towering gate blocked the road ahead, but before they even stopped the car, the gate slowly lifted, allowing them to pass.

Only after driving out of the corridor between the protective walls did their view finally open up.

The crack on Xie Chongyi’s face appeared silently, then vanished just as silently.

The blue-and-white tour bus driving into the Meili Base looked as abrupt and out of place as a UFO visiting Earth.

Under the encroaching dusk, the base seemed somewhat desolate. The few hundred people living here were nowhere near enough to fill this small town that stretched further than the eye could see, but along the road, all kinds of old advertising billboards still tried to show visitors the bustling crowds of the past.

A few scattered shops along the road still had their lights on, but the goods in their display cases were pitifully few. The shopkeepers behind the counters either sat in a daze or wandered outside with their hands clasped behind their backs.

The bus passing down the road drew everyone’s gaze.

People who left the base every day to hunt zombies and search for supplies would sometimes also drive—gas stations in town could still provide them with gasoline, though each refuel required them to pay a maintenance fee. Energy cores had become the new universal currency within the base, but even without energy cores, a piece of meat or a bar of soap could serve as payment. However, for ordinary people without abilities, whether it was energy cores, fresh food, or daily necessities, all of it was difficult to afford.

So the only ones who drove in and out of the base were always the same few people, in the same few modified vehicles. This bus was appearing in the base for the very first time.

The road was smooth, showing no sign of having been ravaged by earthquakes. Shen Ping’an drove slowly while surveying both sides of the street.

As the sky darkened, he pulled up in front of the only hotel still lit.

Having learned from the last time their car was smashed and looted, after everyone got off, Dou Lu fumbled around, testing things out, and successfully established a link with the bus.

At the hotel entrance, azaleas taller than a person were in full bloom—cluster after cluster, looking very much like flames.

Several candles burned behind the cross-shaped windowpanes, and the entire first floor of the hotel was illuminated solely by their light.

“Standard rooms cost one low-grade energy core, queen rooms cost two, themed rooms cost three, and suites cost five. Hot water is available from 9:00 to 9:30 p.m. and 9:00 to 9:30 a.m. There’s no breakfast. If you turn right when you go out, walk about two hundred meters, then turn left and walk another six hundred or so, there’s a small restaurant where you can eat, but it’s very expensive—chewing tree bark inside the base is more cost-effective. If you go straight out for two kilometers, there’s a barbecue place, cheap and tasty, but that area belongs to the Guard Squad. Those beasts will snatch the skewers right off your table.” Hearing footsteps, the shopkeeper spoke without even lifting his eyes from the abacus he was working.

Ruan Silian shifted her canvas bag to her chest and asked softly, “A standard room has two single beds, right?”

Hearing her gentle voice, the shopkeeper finally looked up. His round body jolted in fright when he saw the group standing before him.

“So many people? That’s going to cost a lot, you know.”

Lin Mengzhi, dizzy from the heat, leaned over the counter.

“We’re not asking to stay for free. Just tell us—does the standard room have two beds?”

“Yes, it does.”

Ruan Silian counted out twelve E-grade energy cores and held them out.

“There are twelve of us. We need six rooms.”

The shopkeeper’s already small eyes squinted even further upon hearing that the guests wanted six rooms right away.

“Six rooms, sure, six rooms.”

He collected the energy cores, pulled open a drawer, and counted out six keys. Then he stepped out from behind the counter and pointed to a narrow, dim staircase beside them.

“I’ll take you up.”

He climbed the steps—perhaps because he was too fat, his waist and backside swayed left and right as he went up, though his speed was surprisingly quick.

“Boss,” Lin Mengzhi hurried after him, “how long has your base been established?”

Liu Wenhai wiped the sweat from his temples.

“Probably the day the earthquake ended. The town was full of zombies, but there were ability users too. Only back then, everyone had just come face-to-face with zombies for the first time, and no one had ever seen an ability user before.

Even the ability users themselves didn’t know what they were. In the chaos, people attacked zombies when they saw them, and attacked ability users when they saw them. Lots of people died. That same day, more than a dozen people arrived from Hanzhou. Judging from how they acted, they were probably officials before.”

The shopkeeper talked a lot. After reaching the second floor, he continued, “As soon as they arrived in town, they built the protective walls and quickly cleared out all the zombies inside. They also taught us about ability users. Without them, the people of Meili Town probably wouldn’t have survived the winter afterward.”

“Sounds like they were pretty farsighted, building a base so early.”

“Farsighted, my foot. It’s just a refugee shelter. Not worth a damn compared to the past.” Liu Wenhai scoffed.

After reaching the second floor, his footsteps became lighter, and his voice dropped significantly.

“Two ability users live on this floor. Don’t fool around upstairs later. You’re all young—there’s no juvenile protection law to save you now.”

After saying that, Liu Wenhai suddenly turned around and flashed a grin at the group behind him.

Standing closest, Lin Mengzhi jumped.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t I look like a villain?”

“You look like an egg tart.”

Liu Wenhai clicked his tongue and unlocked the first room on the third floor.

Ji Zhelan glanced into the pitch-black, tiny room and asked, “Have the bedding and linens been disinfected?”

“If I say they have, will you believe me? If you’ll believe it, I’ll say it.”

Liu Wenhai walked ahead, opened several more rooms in a row, then returned and said,

“I didn’t take the keys. Remember to close your doors when you sleep, and also when you go in and out. Especially you two girls, and you, the neat-freak auntie. If anything happens, our shop isn’t responsible.”

After saying all that, Liu Wenhai went downstairs.

“Let’s assign the rooms now.” Xue Shen glanced toward the end of the corridor. The entire third floor had no other guests besides them.

“Dou Lu, you stay with Aunt Ji. Xiao Zhi, you stay with your Sister Ruan. Wu Heng, you stay with Lin Mengzhi. Two Shens, two Xues… Old Xie, you watch over Teacher Ying. Don’t let him activate his ability unconsciously.”

Xue Shen took Xue Qi off Shen She’s back.

During the handover, Xue Qi unexpectedly spotted a black-and-white hand-drawn image on the corridor wall.

“Zoro!”

“Who?”

“An anime character.”

Carrying Xue Qi toward the room at the very end, Xue Shen listened as Xue Qi’s voice echoed down the hall:

“To endure endless suffering without complaint—this is the path of Ashura!”

“Captain, have you noticed Xue Qi gets fired up for no reason?” Dou Lu bumped Lin Mengzhi.

Lin Mengzhi looked confused.

“Where is he fired up?”

They dispersed across the corridor.

After entering his room, Wu Heng found the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he lifted the hair covering his forehead. If not for Xie Chongyi earlier, he wouldn’t have even known he had a bump there. But now the bump was gone; only a faint bluish mark the size of a fingernail remained.

“A’Heng?”

Lin Mengzhi squeezed into the bathroom.

“I need to pee.”

Wu Heng stepped out.

After a noisy moment inside, Lin Mengzhi used some dubious dirty water from a bucket to flush the toilet. He came out and said,

“I want to try that barbecue place the shopkeeper mentioned.”

The boy was already under the blanket, a few vine tendrils and strands of hair scattered across his pillow.

“Asleep again?”

Receiving no reply, Lin Mengzhi stood there for a moment, then suddenly yanked the blanket off Wu Heng.

Wu Heng was hiding beneath it, reading a storybook.

“…”

Caught, Wu Heng expressionlessly snatched the blanket back.

“I’m sleepy.”

“Bullshit.”

Lin Mengzhi lay down and wrapped his arms tightly around Wu Heng.

“Read for five more minutes, then go eat barbecue with me. If you don’t go, I’m too scared to go by myself.”

After a while, Wu Heng softly hummed in response.

Lin Mengzhi immediately jumped off the bed. He peeled off the old tank top he’d stretched out of shape, planted his hands on his hips, and looked out the window. The moment he saw half a streetlamp outside, he suddenly felt like he’d been transported back to the days before the apocalypse.

“How did we not think of turning that village into a base back then?” he said, struck by a sudden idea.

Wu Heng leaned against the headboard, indifferent.

“Hm?”

“Think about it — no one can control us now. We could just claim a few hills, crown ourselves kings, and people would definitely come to rely on us. Wouldn’t that make us… kings?”

Lin Mengzhi hopped onto the sofa by the window, fired up with enthusiasm.

“That would make us bandits.”

Lin Mengzhi immediately deflated, collapsing onto the sofa.

He was half a head taller than Wu Heng, thin but strong. Even when slouching, there wasn’t a bit of sagging on his body. He actually had a face that looked a bit roguish — especially since he had dyed his hair purple before the apocalypse. At first glance, he looked like someone who ran with street gangs, but because he was young and his eyes were clear, he looked more like someone who wasn’t very good at being in a gang.

“I miss my grandma,” the boy suddenly said, staring at the patches of cement on the ceiling.

Wu Heng’s page-turning slowed.

The air in the room was still for a long time.

Then suddenly, a bowl of shao bai (braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens) appeared in front of Lin Mengzhi.

“What the—!!!” Lin Mengzhi shot upright, tears instantly pooling in his eyes. “Where did you get this?!”

“Collected it earlier.” Wu Heng nudged the small tea table to the center. “Eat.”

The shao bai was still warm. The flavor was rich and fragrant — not quite professional-chef-level, but the kind of simple, irreplaceable comfort only an elder’s cooking had.

With tears streaming down his face, Lin Mengzhi ate two slices of meat, then pushed the bowl toward Wu Heng.

“You eat too.”

Wu Heng lowered his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s too much of a waste on me right now. I can’t taste anything.”

Lin Mengzhi wiped his tears, his voice hoarse.

“Then I won’t eat it either. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Let’s go eat barbecue.”

Wu Heng paused. “You still want barbecue?”

Lin Mengzhi looked at him with tear-blurred eyes, blinked once… and then exploded.

“I thought you gave me my grandma’s shao bai because you felt bad for me, but it turns out you just don’t want to go eat barbecue with me!”

“…No.”

But even if Wu Heng didn’t go with Lin Mengzhi, the others still had to eat. Xue Shen knocked on their door, asking if they were going to the barbecue place.

“Go go go, go!” Lin Mengzhi grabbed his sour, sweaty tank top off the bed and pulled it over his head.

“Wu Heng, you coming?”

Wu Heng set his book down.

Following behind Lin Mengzhi out of the room, he was surprised to see only Xue Shen and Ying Liuquan waiting in the hallway.

“No one else is coming?”

Xue Shen smiled. “Xue Qi can’t move around easily, so Shen She is watching him for me. Old Xie isn’t feeling well. The rest aren’t going. Dou Lu wants to, but she has to stay behind for security duty. Come on — we can pack food for them.”

Pack food?

The word sounded strangely foreign to the three of them.

“What’s wrong with Class Monitor?” On the way downstairs, Wu Heng suddenly asked.

Xue Shen walked in front and had already reached the landing. “Who knows? He won’t say anything.”

Wu Heng’s expression grew increasingly complex.

He stopped walking and patted Lin Mengzhi on the shoulder.

“Wait for me on the first floor with them. I’m going to check on the Class Monitor.”

Back in the third-floor hallway, Wu Heng suddenly realized he didn’t have a key.

But it didn’t matter — his vines could easily pry the door open.

What he didn’t expect was that as soon as the soft vine tip slipped into the keyhole, the door suddenly opened by itself.

Xie Chongyi looked exhausted and cold. But when he saw it was Wu Heng, his expression eased slightly.

“You didn’t go eat?”

Xie Chongyi glanced at Wu Heng’s forehead. Even though his hair covered part of it, the bluish mark was still glaringly obvious — especially against the boy’s pale skin.

Wu Heng vaguely felt that something about Xie Chongyi seemed different. But he couldn’t pinpoint what it was or why. He didn’t understand his own “food” well enough.

“The class rep said you weren’t feeling well.”

He studied Xie Chongyi and spoke softly, hoping Xie Chongyi would voluntarily explain what was wrong.

But Xie Chongyi said, “He’s talking nonsense.”

“But—” Wu Heng narrowed his eyes suddenly.

“Your face…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish.

A hand pushed his shoulder — gently but firmly — and he staggered backward.

By the time he registered what happened, the door was already closing. A long, dark line on Xie Chongyi’s face flickered in front of his eyes.

The vines reacted directly to the thought command, shooting into the narrowing gap before the door shut. They whipped around, aiming to wrap around Xie Chongyi’s neck.

Xie Chongyi sidestepped. The vine pierced straight through the doorboard, punching a hole clean through it. He leaned against the wall, eyes pitch-black and icy. The long, crack-like thing on his face writhed with excitement.

He lifted his hand and severed the part of the vine inside the room.

An air-wall rose instantly, blocking the rest of the vine outside completely.

The poppy thrashed against the wall like a mad creature.

Bang— bang— bang—

“Class Monitor…” Wu Heng’s puzzled voice sounded from outside. “Why did you push me?”

“…And hit me.”

The severed vine on the floor was only half a meter long, still alive. It jabbed at the floor repeatedly, searching for soil. Not finding any, it sprang upward, aiming to burrow into the human body inside the room — after all, flesh was the poppy’s most satisfying soil.

Xie Chongyi stepped on it.

He crouched down, and with the back of his hand wiped downward along the crack on his face.

Black particles smeared onto his skin.

Then he pressed those black specks onto the writhing vine’s surface.

They looked like black fish roe.

The moment they touched the vine, they expanded rapidly.

The vine thrashed wildly across the floor, its whole body whipping around, but it couldn’t shake off the strange organisms clinging to it. Their numbers multiplied, spreading until they wrapped the entire segment of vine. Its resistance gradually weakened, then—suddenly—it burst apart into pieces, each fragment dark and dull.

Outside the door, footsteps sounded. Wu Heng was leaving.

Xie Chongyi leaned against the door. When he raised his hand to wipe his face again, the skin there was smooth—no trace of the slit remained.

He tugged the corner of his mouth into a smile, sighed, then crouched down, settling cross-legged as he leaned forward to sweep the pile of fragments into one small mound.

He picked up a medium-sized piece at random, brought it to his nose to sniff, then opened his mouth and bit down.

Crunch, crunch.

Crisp. Sweet.

He ate several pieces in a row before something felt off. He lifted his eyelids, and sure enough—the tightly closed window was now cracked open.

The creature that had been watching him vanished in a blur of green, leaving only a faint afterimage.

<< _ >>