Eaten Ch.85.1

Chapter 85.1: Dog, Leeches

“You’ll die,” Xie Chongyi said with a soft smile, pulling Wu Heng along as they continued forward. “And the activity is already over.”

“What a pity,” Wu Heng sighed.

After walking a few steps, Wu Heng couldn’t help turning back. The spot that had been gnawed by the black granular substance really did look burnt, and on the area where the ground was now exposed, no new bamboo shoots were sprouting.

“Class Monitor, when will you die?” Wu Heng asked the question he cared about most—also the most important one to him.

From the boy’s tone, Xie Chongyi could hear not only a faint trace of concern, but also a vague hint of… anticipation.

Anticipation of what?

“I don’t know.” Xie Chongyi removed Wu Heng’s hand, his tone turning cold.

Wu Heng walked beside him in silence.

In the coming days, should he start offering the other boy some form of end-of-life care?

—

In another direction, Wu Zhi came running into the group’s line of sight, panting heavily. She held the monkey in one hand and, in the other, the monkey’s ear that she had ripped off. Tears rolled down her face one after another—not clear or crystalline, but milky-white and hazy.

“What happened?” Lin Mengzhi was the first to rush over. He hurriedly wiped the tears from Wu Zhi’s face, then glanced behind her. “Where are A’Heng and Xie Chongyi? Why didn’t they come back with you?”

“The class monitor told my brother to abandon me,” Wu Zhi said quietly.

The group behind Lin Mengzhi looked bewildered. They felt that this didn’t seem like the main point and shouldn’t be an answer to the actual question—but somehow, it also wasn’t exactly wrong.

“So where did they go? Did they elope?” Xue Shen sifted through the details and grasped the core issue.

Elope?

Elope!

Wu Zhi hated that word.

Because eloping meant the parties involved would abandon all blood relatives for the sake of someone unrelated by blood. It implied the emergence of a new kind of feeling—one that overrode both familial love and friendship.

“No, no, they didn’t elope,” Wu Zhi quickly denied. “All the survivors from the Meili Base have been relocated to Kuhuang. My brother, the class monitor, and the remaining ability users set out to deal with the mutated bamboo. They told us to head to Kuhuang first and wait for them.”

“How is that acceptable?” Shen Ping’an stood up from the ground.

“Mushroom Head said the temperature will rise after dawn. If you go, you’ll just drag my brother down.”

Although Wu Zhi was worried to death—worried about her brother’s safety, worried that her brother’s relationship with the class monitor might heat up, hotter and hotter and hotter and hotter… worried that her brother might really elope with the class monitor—

But the first priority now was to fulfill her brother’s instructions: escort everyone safely to Kuhuang—especially the three people her brother had specifically named.

“That still won’t work,” Lin Mengzhi said. “You all go first. I’m going after them.” As he spoke, he began bending down to pick up the canvas bag he had set on the ground.

Wu Zhi hurriedly ran over and spread her arms to block him. “Brother said we’re not allowed to go.”

No matter which direction Lin Mengzhi tried to go, Wu Zhi blocked him with iron determination, pushing Lin Mengzhi to the edge of losing his temper.

“Wu Zhi, is your brain still not working right?”

“And your brain works so well?”

“Better than yours! At least I know which side is more dangerous and needs help!”

“But you aren’t listening to my brother!”

“I’m not his dog—why should I listen to him?”

Wu Zhi’s throat instantly clogged up with something, sealing it completely. She stared wide-eyed, her whole body trembling from a sudden chill.

Everyone around them also shivered involuntarily.

Seeing the atmosphere grow even tenser, Ruan Silian stepped between the two, struggling to pull them apart. She hadn’t noticed anything when she wasn’t touching them, but once she did—her left hand was frozen, her right hand burned. She quickly withdrew her hands and gave a sad, helpless smile. “You’re both thinking of Wu Heng… so why are you fighting?”

Not comforting her was fine, but once she was comforted, Wu Zhi immediately choked out a very loud sob: “Hic—Mengzhi, I hate you!”

Standing farthest away, Xue Shen folded his arms and lifted his head, watching the bamboo shadows sway as he did his best to keep himself from smiling.

“Let’s do this,” Ruan Silian said, placing her fingers lightly on Lin Mengzhi’s shoulder. She pressed gently—very subtly—and gave him a meaningful look before speaking softly. “We’ll head to Kuhuang now. X hasn’t come back yet, right? It will definitely go look for Wu Heng first. If Wu Heng needs help, he’ll definitely ask X to come find us. When X brings a message, we can have Lin Mengzhi go help Wu Heng. How about that?”

Only then did Wu Zhi reluctantly nod.

But clearly, she still wasn’t willing to speak to Lin Mengzhi, and Lin Mengzhi wasn’t speaking to her either. The two turned their heads away and walked separately—keeping a great distance between them.

“Alright, let’s head out,” Ruan Silian said to the group, who had all been watching like it was a show.

Dou Lu: “Dr. Chen, you’re not allowed to walk behind us.”

“Yeah, Dr. Chen can’t walk in the back. He’ll drool while looking at us,” Xue Qi said from his position lying on Xue Shen’s back. “Let us cover the rear for Dr. Chen!”

“Dr. Chen smells disgusting. Will you rot completely?”

“No,” Chen Meng replied as he plucked a white worm from his eye socket and popped it into his mouth.

With that, the group officially set off.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi ran into Wu Dian and the others. At that moment, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, half its face revealed, casting a faint, eerie light.

—

“Professor Zhang has always supported the geomagnetic theory. He claims all abnormalities are caused by changes in the Earth’s magnetic field—including the current human mutations. He strongly opposes calling the mutated people ability users or superhumans. He believes it’s simply a symptom of infection. He refers to ability users as variants.”

Xie Chongyi: “That sounds awful.”

Wu Heng agreed. “Yeah, like he’s talking about livestock.”

Wu Dian walked in front, using the knife in his hand to continuously cut down the waist-high wild grass along the path. Even as he spoke, he didn’t seem short of breath at all.

“All departments have been strictly monitoring magnetic fields, the atmosphere, asteroid trajectories near Blue Star—basically every possible variable. For a long time, there were no obvious anomalies. Until half a year ago, when volcanoes around Blue Star started erupting frequently, auroras appeared, satellites malfunctioned constantly.

Besides these abnormal natural phenomena, those of us who survived the original experiment began experiencing irregular vital signs and frequent mental instability. But at that time, we had no idea a disaster was coming.”

Wu Heng thought for a moment, then said, “The class monitor said the apocalypse actually began twenty years ago. Why do you say you were unaware?”

“Class monitor? Who?”

“…Xie Chongyi,” Wu Heng said.

“Xiao Xie has always loved meddling since he was a kid—being a class monitor suits him.”

“Hey.” Xie Chongyi reacted unusually strongly to that comment.

But Wu Dian had already resumed speaking, answering Wu Heng’s earlier question:

“What I mean is, the disaster had already begun—we were just too late to notice.”

He seemed to know what Wu Heng was thinking. After answering, he continued:

“Humans truly are a rather despicable species. But before acting despicably, humans first need a relatively safe environment in which they can afford to be despicable.”

Wu Heng nodded, looking like he understood… and didn’t.

At this moment, the air had clearly grown much hotter than before. The three of them were at the front of the group, and they could hear the heavy, staggered panting from behind. At first glance, the bamboo canopy seemed only overly lush, like an enormous umbrella shading their heads. But once the temperature rose, it transformed into a steamer, trapping the forest air beneath it and cooking everything inside.

“No way, it’s too hot—let’s rest for a bit.”

Someone behind them collapsed onto the ground, the motion clean and immediate.

“Let’s find somewhere with water.”

Wu Heng stopped walking, thinking aloud. “8.6 kilometers… That still isn’t the main root of the mutated bamboo, is it?”

“No,” Wu Dian replied. “This entire mountain range is covered in bamboo. It wouldn’t be surprising if the main root is still dozens of kilometers away. Why do you want its main root?”

“The energy core. Don’t you want it?”

“That’s not the most important thing right now.”

Wu Dian looked toward the northwest, his expression calm.

No sooner had he spoken than a sharp, rustling gust swept overhead. A bird’s piercing cry echoed above the bamboo canopy. A shadow darker than the night itself skimmed past them, then returned. Two sharp cries rang out in succession, reverberating through the bamboo forest.

Xie Chongyi lifted his eyes. “Your kid finally slacked his way back?”

But Wu Heng did not smile. “There are two birds.”

Rustling sounds followed. Next to the round-faced young man lying on the ground, a bamboo stalk suddenly began to shake violently from top to bottom. Panic washed over the group as they looked up. The thick, interwoven bamboo canopy above had been smashed into a massive depression. The bamboo was so tightly packed that it actually caught the heavy body descending from above, allowing only glimpses of what was happening.

Bird cries. Flapping wings. Black, razor-sharp talons.

“Two mutated birds! They’re fighting!” someone shouted.

“Monsters turning on each other—good show, love it!”

But they couldn’t see much at all. Almost everything above was blocked by dense bamboo leaves. They could only hear the sounds: the distant and close snarls and bites, the tearing rasp of talons digging through feathers and ripping skin, the booming crashes of huge bodies colliding.

Fresh blood streaked across the green bamboo leaves and then dripped downward.

Someone rubbed their hands together and swallowed hard. “If they both end up badly injured, we could pick up the scraps, right? Are mutated birds tasty?”

Wu Heng lowered his gaze from the sky and looked at the one who had spoken.

The boy always looked listless and gloomy when he looked at people—unlike other ability users in the apocalypse who wore their murderous intent openly on their faces. Wu Heng didn’t inspire fear; he inspired discomfort—a cold, sticky feeling, as if something wet and icy had wrapped around you. Even one’s throat seemed to tighten under the pressure of his gaze.

The round-faced young man, who had already gotten up from the ground, activated his ability at that moment. He perked up his ears and listened for a while before saying, “They’re evenly matched… but one of them is fighting really recklessly.”

Wu Heng assumed the reckless one was X.

But before he could even let out a breath of relief, the bamboo branches above them were suddenly smashed apart as a massive tangled ball of feathers came crashing through, and the two birds—each the size of a semi-truck—fell from the sky.

“Get out of the way!!” a woman screamed.

The two birds slammed into the ground, the scene like two great beasts tearing into one another.

But the moment they touched down, they immediately spread their wings again and resumed biting and clawing. Feathers flew everywhere as the surrounding mutated bamboo was knocked aside and snapped by the force of their brawling. Everyone hurried to retreat farther, afraid of being caught in the chaos.

The creature fighting X was a pitch-black bird that resembled a crow, though not quite the same as the ravens Wu Heng had seen before—perhaps still part of the crow family.

It was terrifyingly fierce. It clamped its beak around the grey parrot’s neck and refused to release its grip, even as its own belly was being kicked open and spilling blood. Once its talons pinned down the parrot’s wings, it became even more brutal—one swipe, and a whole clump of bloody feathers was torn out to the root.

The scene was brutal and gory, yet strangely exhilarating, sending adrenaline surging through many watchers. Someone couldn’t hold back and began shouting excitedly, egging the fight on.

X fought harshly too, but it was afraid of pain—squawking, whining, and grumbling nonstop.

It couldn’t understand. Why?

Why was this opponent still so fierce even after it had stabbed a hole right through its neck?

“Like two monsters…”

Several people, standing a safe distance away, crouched on the ground, shivering.

“Why are they fighting?”

“For territory or a mate. Ninety-nine percent of animal fights are for one of those two.”

“But they’re not even the same species—what mate are they fighting over?”

As they discussed this, a green vine silently appeared between the two giant mutated birds.

It slid up along the black bird’s spine, paused for just a moment, and then—faster than lightning—wrapped around its throat. What looked like a soft vine suddenly went taut, and countless smaller tendrils spread out like a net, binding the black bird’s wings and legs.

Some of the vine’s tendrils rose high into the air like cobras poised to strike. Before the black bird could even scream, its pupils were already filled with green—the vine had simultaneously pierced straight into its abdomen. It didn’t even have time to draw a breath before it collapsed, dead.

Wu Heng stepped forward. The vine retreated from beneath the layers of bamboo sheath, slithering back into his body.

Aside from Xie Chongyi and Wu Dian, no one else had even seen what happened.

The world had been nothing but darkness and chaos; those soft, swaying limbs had appeared like snakes—here one moment and gone the next—and suddenly, out of the two mutated birds, only one remained.

And that one was the gray bird.

Wu Heng walked over to X. The giant gray parrot had shrunk its size, half of its body smeared with blood. It hopped into his arms and buried its head beneath his armpit, letting out a pitiful series of gurgling coos.

“A’Heng… save me…”

Wu Heng ignored its whining. He lifted X up and checked it from head to toe. There were no serious injuries—just a few patches of feathers plucked out and some torn skin on its neck. The black bird had simply fought viciously.

“Is… is that your bird?” someone finally asked from a distance, unable to hold back.

Wu Heng nodded and wiped the blood off X’s head with his sleeve.

The confirmation left the person looking thoroughly embarrassed. Had he been talking earlier about whether the bird would taste good? Maybe… maybe not? Maybe he remembered wrong.

But since it belonged to one of their own, the fear vanished instantly. Everyone crowded around—half examining the dead black bird, the other half poking at X.

“A parrot! My mom used to keep one—their beaks are like actual pliers.”

“What species of parrot is this?”

X, now in a foul temper, snapped fiercely at whoever leaned too close, sending people stumbling back in fright.

Meanwhile, Wu Dian and Xie Chongyi were examining the black bird on the ground.

“Black drongo,” Wu Dian said. “A particularly aggressive species.”

Xie Chongyi pinched the thick, sturdy base of the drongo’s leg, paused slightly, then looked back at Wu Heng standing behind them.

“Do you want to eat it?” he asked.

Wu Heng saw it and gently shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Then let’s move.” Xie Chongyi didn’t waste time. He stood up, and behind him Wu Dian also rose. After scanning the surroundings, he said, “In this kind of jungle, be careful of insects.”

“What’s so scary about insects?”

Wu Heng looked toward the young man questioning beside him. “Insects bigger than you—still not scared?”

Xie Chongyi tugged on Wu Heng. “Let’s go.”

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