Chapter 96: “Don’t b*lly the class monitor”
On the way to the base entrance, the woman introduced herself to the group and briefly explained the base’s general situation.
“You can call me Liu Ning. I’m Mr. Mo’s assistant. I’m in charge of resource management within the base, external communications, and a small portion of security work.”
“The Kuhuang Base is divided into three sections: the outer, middle, and inner cities.
The outer city mainly contains the base’s defensive fortifications and the living quarters for base staff.
The middle city is the residential area for everyone and also where the stronger ability users live.
The inner city is for survivors and vulnerable groups—elderly people, pregnant women, children and so on. But there aren’t many elderly left… it’s hard for older folks to cope with this ever-changing weather we have now.”
“Have you all read the rules?”
“We haven’t had time yet,” Dou Lu answered from the back.
“It’s fine if you haven’t. Just remember this one thing.”
Liu Ning turned her head, her sharp gaze sweeping across each of their faces. “Every single person allowed into the base must be non-infected. Anyone with visible wounds on their body, anyone who claims to be ill, anyone who answers questions with random unrelated nonsense—none of them are permitted to enter.”
“I can understand the first two,” Shen Ping’an asked, wanting to be sure. “But what does it mean if someone answers questions with random nonsense?”
“Have you heard of mental contamination?”
Liu Ning wiped the sweat from her forehead and flicked it to the ground, though she still had no intention of tying up her hair.
“Hss—” Lin Mengzhi glared viciously at Ying Liuquan.
“I know a little,” Xue Shen said.
“It was more than half a month ago. The base let in a kid around seven or eight. Looked perfectly normal on the outside, but all he said was things like ‘Everyone’s going to die.’
“At first we thought he was just scared. After sending him into the inner city, we even had a doctor give him a physical exam.
“But that night, the kids staying in the same room as him suddenly started pulling out their own teeth. When they couldn’t pull them, they used objects to pry, smash, knock them loose. Then they tore out their tongues—ripped them out.
“When our people rushed over, the whole room was covered in blood.
“And that child was still sitting on the bed, watching us and smiling.
“Because when he was young, his mother wouldn’t let him eat sweets and even knocked out one of his teeth. So after he became a mentally contaminated infected, his ability caused others to exhibit similar self-harming behavior.”
“Isn’t that still an ability user?” Ying Liuquan was very concerned about this distinction.
Liu Ning smiled. “The fundamental difference between an ability user and an infected is that the former is still human, while the latter is a zombie.”
“A spiritual-type zombie!” Lin Mengzhi finally understood, immediately thinking of the one they had at home—practically pure and harmless by comparison.
Liu Ning continued, “In the end, Mr. Mo personally executed that child. As for the children he contaminated within the base, once infected, they turned into the most common kind of zombie you see outside.”
“So I hope you never hesitate when it comes to infected, mutated, or… aberrant individuals. If you really can’t bring yourself to do it, you can find someone to contact me.”
The modified armored vehicle stopped at the base entrance. Wu Heng was the last to get off. Xue Shen and the others were already following Liu Ning out through the gate. Xie Chongyi remained where he was, only turning to leave when he saw Wu Heng approach.
The open area outside the base was already crowded with people. More survivors kept arriving and joining from the back—every one of them dripping with sweat, wearing expressions of exhaustion and numbness, with fear etched deep in their eyes.
The guards maintaining order at the front—waiting to conduct checks before letting people in—were all new faces compared to the day before.
Off to the side, more than a dozen metal-bladed fans were running at full force.
Liu Ning handed each of them a scanner. “It’s simple to use. Press the top button to collect data. After the scan, the device will automatically determine whether the person meets the entry requirements. Press the bottom button to clear the data, then scan again. You must scan a total of three times. You can do more—never fewer.”
“Be careful. If you encounter a situation you don’t know how to handle, remember to find the base guards. They have more experience.”
Wu Heng held the scanner in both hands, turning it over and examining it.
Suddenly, his vision went dark.
Lin Mengzhi held up the scanner in front of him. “Let me scan you.”
The boy stretched out his arms. Lin Mengzhi meticulously scanned him three full times from front to back.
“Green, green, all green.” Lin Mengzhi turned around. “A’Heng, scan me too.”
Wu Heng scanned Lin Mengzhi once. His thumb pressed down on the glowing indicator, eyes lowered. “Red.”
“?!” Lin Mengzhi nearly jumped on the spot, sweating even harder. “How is that possible? I’m the most human human there is!”
Facing away from everyone, he used his own scanner to scan himself ten times over. Every single time, the light was green. His gaze toward Wu Heng grew increasingly suspicious. “Is your scanner broken?”
“Assistant Liu, the lines are in order. We can begin the checks. Same as before—elderly, children, and pregnant women have priority.” A guard jogged up to them.
Wu Heng was placed by Liu Ning at the front of a line consisting entirely of burly men—he wasn’t even half the height of the first man waiting to be scanned.
“…”
Wu Heng lifted his head very, very, very, very, very, very slowly.
The man was even more confused than he was. With surprise in his smile, he said, “Isn’t this a school kid?”
Liu Ning didn’t even look at the man. Instead, she beamed at Wu Heng. “The guard on duty yesterday told me you went straight through our base’s perimeter wall. I think you’re pretty capable, so I don’t want to waste your talent.”
“No problem,” Wu Heng said flatly. Male or female, old or young—aside from differences in taste, there wasn’t much difference.
Liu Ning felt the kid was almost heartbreakingly obedient. She pinched his cheek. “Thank you for your hard work.”
After she left, the first “beep” signaling a successful entry sounded outside the base. Lin Mengzhi was sweating so much his tank top was about to tear into rags, yet he was still brimming with energy. He let a woman through, more excited than she was.
“Come in! Come in! Go, go, go!!!”
Even without using any ability, the pure, ordinary, yet most precious human spirit—raw enthusiasm—spread in small waves to the people nearby, like a trumpet sounding toot-toot, leading people toward a place of hope.
The gate creaked open, and the tall man stepped up to Wu Heng.
The man smiled. “You’re supposed to scan the whole body—what are you planning to do?”
Wu Heng remained indifferent, but X flapped its wings twice. It left the boy’s shoulder, soared several meters into the air, and on its dive down, its size had clearly grown. The people below instinctively ducked and covered their heads, but instead of attacking, it simply snatched the scanner from Wu Heng’s hand with its claws.
With its little hat on, X looked more serious and proper than ever. It wobbled in the air and circled the man three times, then returned the scanner to Wu Heng before settling back onto his shoulder.
Wu Heng saw the green light flash on the scanner. He stepped aside slightly.
“After you enter, go to the tent on the right side of the gate to pick up your housing key and the base resident handbook.”
The man had already been stunned the moment the bird flew up to do the scanning. He almost didn’t hear Wu Heng’s words—until someone behind him shoved him impatiently.
“You grow taller but your brain stays tiny—move already!”
Just as he walked in, Wu Heng stopped him again. “How much do you weigh?”
“Huh?”
“Your weight.”
“Close to three hundred kilos,” the arrogant man lowered his head for once. “I’m an ability user too, but without an actual ability… I just got bigger.”
As he spoke, sweat streamed down his massive face like a small waterfall. He couldn’t help complaining. “You have no idea how unlucky ability users like me are. No attack skills, slow running, huge appetite… I can fight a few normal people, sure, but when a monster shows up, we’re the unluckiest ones. They always grab us first. The giant club I formed with a few other big guys—everyone died except me.”
Wu Heng gave him a look of understanding, and the giant nearly shed tears—someone finally didn’t think he was just whining.
“If everyone’s size were like yours, would your troubles disappear?”
The giant fell silent again.
X flapped its wings at him, shooing him inside. It picked up Dou Lu’s tone from beside them and called out:
“Next one~~~”
Mutated birds were a common sight, but they usually appeared only to hunt. Even from far away, the ferocity in their eyes was unmistakable.
Not like the bird before him—fierce yet obedient, sharp-eyed yet carrying a faint sense of justice. It didn’t look like a mutated beast at all, more like a tiny police officer.
Wu Heng had X hop onto the table—its weight on his shoulder was too much.
Seeing that its stage was gone, X flew onto Dou Lu’s head. Before Dou Lu could say anything, it called out the next person.
Dou Lu felt a burst of fire ignite on the top of her head. She rolled her eyes. “Brother Fork, I really don’t have time to mess with you. Get down.”
Wu Heng ignored the chatter beside him. He wiped the sweat from his chin with his arm and pointed the scanner at the ground in front of him. The person next in line immediately understood and jogged forward to stand before him.
The boy said nothing. He silently completed the three scans, then lowered his head to check the results. Only after confirming accuracy did he lift his sweat-soaked eyelids.
“You can go in.”
Nothing about his attitude showed on his face—not even the slightest complaint about the harsh heat. Even a robot would be smoking in this weather; the ground beneath his feet was dotted with drops of his sweat, yet his expression remained still as a windless, rippleless pond.
“I’m an ability user,” said the eleventh person, blurting out the declaration nervously.
Wu Heng switched on the scanner. “What ability?”
“I can communicate with animals with zero barriers.”
Wu Heng nodded and performed the first scan. “What’s the use?”
The young man recalled the many times he’d narrowly escaped death. “I can beg them not to eat me. They can understand.”
“And they listen to you?”
“…No.”
After finishing the third scan, Wu Heng let him through.
Next door, X’s voice suddenly grew loud. It stood tall atop Dou Lu’s head, wings flapping wildly with a loud whap-whap-whap. It stretched its neck forward repeatedly.
“Say it again! Say it again!”
The Dou Lu beneath its claws was trembling with anger.
In front of the girl and the bird, a middle-aged woman pointed at the scabbed wound on the back of her hand and said, “I already told you, this was scratched by a tree branch. Why won’t you let me in? At a time like this, do you really think it’s possible for someone to have zero cuts on their body? When you people sent out that notice telling us to come, you never said any of this! You made it sound so wonderful—how you’d give us shelter, how we could survive by working inside the base without ever needing to go out. We exhausted ourselves rushing here, people were dying by the dozens along the way, and now that we’re finally at the gate, you’re saying we can’t enter? And who do you think you are to tell me that? I am going in today!”
After yelling, the woman wrapped one arm around a little girl and the other around a little boy, trying to force her way inside.
Dou Lu shoved her back.
She was an ability user; even using only a fraction of her strength, someone around her mother’s age couldn’t withstand it. The woman staggered backward repeatedly, then landed heavily on the ground.
Sitting on the dirt, she refused to get up. She screamed that Kuhuang Base abused civilians, treated human lives as weeds, profited off people’s misery, and would die badly for it.
Dou Lu was scolded to the point that tears welled in her eyes. Facing the many strange and accusing gazes around her, she froze, helpless.
Wu Heng was watching, but several stations away, Xie Chongyi was already striding over. He took Dou Lu by the arm and moved her aside. “I’ll handle this.”
Xie Chongyi crouched down in front of the woman. He stared at her for a moment, then grabbed her wrist. The woman flinched in fear.
“What are you doing?!”
Xie Chongyi smiled faintly. “Pay attention to your hand.”
“What about my ha—” As she lowered her head mid-sentence, she watched the scabbed wound—previously only three or four centimeters long—slowly extend in both directions until it split open, releasing black pus. She didn’t even feel pain.
The stench rose instantly under the scorching heat. The woman gagged from the smell, her face turning ghostly pale under the sun. “No, I really didn’t—I really didn’t!”
But after the pus oozed out, the color of her hand remained normal—neither the pallor of blood loss nor the dark blue-black of infection.
The woman regained her confidence and straightened her back. “See? I told you! I’m not infected. It’s just a regular wound—it’s just inflamed!”
Xie Chongyi narrowed his eyes.
“Mom…”
“Class Monitor, watch out!” Dou Lu shouted.
Several vines shot out before anyone else reacted, slicing through the air with sharp swish sounds. They had no respect for elders or children—one of the vines lashed the little girl standing beside Xie Chongyi, sending her tumbling through the air several times before she was flung dozens of meters away.
“Xiao Xin!!!”
The woman’s voice broke with genuine grief. She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the girl.
The girl lay unmoving on the ground. After a long moment, her back finally twitched. She pushed herself up with trembling arms. Coughs racked her body—dirty blood mixed with teeth sprayed from her mouth. Clumps of hair scattered across the ground. Her already-thin body shriveled in an instant, becoming corpse-like.
The woman, dragging her other child by the hand, froze mid-run.
“Mom… I’m sorry.”
The little girl stood where she was. Behind her, sharp cracking noises began to snap one after another. Before she could even turn around, a vine burst through her body from behind.
“Xiao Xin!”
The woman ran again, screaming, “My daughter—my child—how could this happen?!”
The vine slipped back into the ground. The dust it had kicked up slowly settled.
The boy raised his detection device again, pointing at the ground in front of him, signaling the next person to step forward.
—
Nearly a thousand people were tested. Only about two-thirds showed no threat and no suspicious signs. The remaining third—all except the little girl from earlier—were fitted with HOPE bands. Anyone who protested was quickly “persuaded” with a cheerful reminder that they were very welcome to try their luck at another base.
Everyone sat together and ate the communal meal. Each person received a simple boxed meal with meat, vegetables, and rice, plus a large jug of water.
In front of Wu Heng were two meals and two jugs of water—his and X’s work rations.
“I’m not eating.” Wu Heng pushed his box toward Xie Chongyi.
“I’m not eating either,” X echoed, pushing its box toward him as well.
The poppy eagerly twisted open both jug lids, stuffed its entire plant-self inside, and drained both in seconds. Then it went around stealing water from the others at the table.
Shen Ping’an’s water disappeared the same way.
“Is no one going to control this thing?”
Xue Shen sat there holding his meal box, several vines drooping from his face like sad tassels as he pleaded pitifully for something to drink.
Wu Heng had no energy to deal with it now—he barely had anything he could eat left.
Sitting across from him, Shen Ping’an was clearly just as hungry, but even faced with a human meal box, he still couldn’t bring himself to eat it.
Xie Chongyi silently finished the two lunch boxes in front of him, then pushed X’s portion to Lin Mengzhi.
“Class Monitor, you’re really such a good guy—no wonder everyone obeys you!”
“Heh.” Xie Chongyi tugged at the corner of his mouth, got up, and walked out of the dining hall.
When he returned, he was carrying several large stainless-steel containers.
He hadn’t even gotten close yet when Wu Heng already smelled the aroma of fresh meat. His eyes lit up uncontrollably.
Wu Heng rarely showed an expression like that—his eyes always seemed stuck in overcast weather. To be looked at like this was truly unusual. Xie Chongyi’s mood lifted, and the corners of his lips couldn’t help rising.
But the cold weight of the steel containers in his hands quickly reminded him that Wu Heng’s bright eyes had nothing to do with him.
Xie Chongyi handed two containers to Wu Heng. Shen Ping’an received one, and the bird got one of its own.
Inside every container was neatly stacked rabbit meat, still giving off faint steam from the cold air. Each box felt heavy—easily over two kilograms.
Seeing something he could actually eat, Wu Heng finally showed an expression that clearly said I’m about to dig in.
Dou Lu poked her head over. “Waaah, Class Monitor, you’re soooo good to us. I feel like when we’re all old, you’ll still be there spoon-feeding us and wiping our butts.”
Xie Chongyi: “You’re talking about me?”
Wu Heng began devouring the food, but years of high-pressure living had ingrained his eating habits—so despite his obvious appetite, he still ate neatly and gracefully.
X was the complete opposite. It practically shoved its entire head into the container, craning its neck as it gulped down the meat.
“You went to the kitchen for that?” Xue Shen asked after finishing his meal.
“I asked Liu Ning.” When Liu Ning heard about their situation, she immediately empathized. She promised that for as long as the two of them and the bird were working, she would provide them with fifty kilograms of meat every day.
“What was up with that woman from this morning?” Xue Shen finally remembered what he’d wanted to ask. “Why was the wound on her body, but the zombie was her daughter?”
“No idea. I’ve never encountered anything like it,” Xie Chongyi said, propping his chin on his hand. “But it was probably a form of transferred infection, or an ability that let her rely on her own biological matter to reside inside another person and siphon life force. Otherwise, it’s hard to explain why the moment the pus drained out, she instantly revealed her true form.”
Dou Lu looked up from her lunch box. “So she was sucking her own mom’s life force to keep herself looking human?”
The others looked confused.
“We should’ve questioned her,” Shen Ping’an said. “If we run into something like that again, at least we’d have some experience.”
Seeing the topic shift toward him, Wu Heng swallowed the meat in his mouth. “Sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“…” Shen Ping’an fell silent for a long moment, then added, “But given the situation at the time, what you did was the cleanest and safest. You protected everyone around you, which was the priority.”
Wu Heng nodded.
Xie Chongyi leaned back in his chair, holding a half-finished canteen of water, smiling without saying anything.
The poppy climbed up his shin, wrapped around his wrist, and angled itself to steal a drink.
Xie Chongyi didn’t indulge it—he grabbed it and tossed it toward Wu Heng’s side.
The poppy’s status was no lower than X’s. Even the others almost never treated it so roughly. It was just water—if it wanted to steal, it could steal.
Having lived in comfort, it could no longer tolerate being denied. It raised the tip of its tendril high toward Xie Chongyi in protest, clearly offended.
Seeing that Xie Chongyi ignored it entirely—completely disregarding both it and its mighty, imposing master—it turned away, rubbed itself pitifully against Wu Heng’s cheek, and tattled.
Wu Heng picked up the last blood-soaked piece of rabbit meat from the bottom of his lunch box and fed it to the poppy. He gently cupped its soft body with his fingers. “Don’t b*lly the class monitor, okay?”