Chapter 97

Chapter 97

Yan Bei’s roots wove a defensive net before him, a desperate barrier against the doctor’s advance.

The doctor was a monster that would have fit right in as a final boss in Resident Evil.

Slender, elegant fingers speared into the tangle of roots. Wooden splinters rained down, filling the air with the scent of crushed greenery.

The doctor’s back was fully exposed now. Eyeballs, clustered like blisters across the crimson muscle, swiveled in their sockets. A few glanced his way, bright and alert, radiating palpable disdain.

Frankly, the doctor didn’t understand. Why wasn’t Lu Yan charging in to fight, or abandoning his companion to flee? Instead, he just stood there, watching with detached indifference, as if this were some staged performance.

The cat-and-mouse game was one the doctor adored.

He advanced step by deliberate step. Yan Bei’s root-net grew thinner, more brittle, like a sapling ready to snap.

In his arboreal state, Yan Bei couldn’t move.

If you couldn’t seize the initiative in a fight, you were just a punching bag.

Whether the System felt any pity was unknown, but Lu Yan certainly did.

His mind, however, didn’t work like other people’s. Pity didn’t translate into impulsive action.

He was still waiting for the System’s signal.

[You get one chance. For you, a pollutant with a contamination value of 7000 is lethal. Unless you’re willing to let your lesion rate soar past 95% in one go.]

A rising lesion rate wasn’t all bad. At the same spiritual power threshold, it granted greater physical resilience.

But a spike that sharp, that fast, was a one-way ticket into another realm entirely.

The realm of the pollutant. And once you crossed that line, there was no coming back.

Only thirty seconds had passed since the doctor opened the door.

Yan Bei’s arms began to lignify. More pale roots sprouted, tangling with the monster before him.

The new roots lacked toughness, but they made up for it in sheer number.

A few always slipped through the doctor’s defenses, burying themselves deep into the creature’s flesh.

There, they fed, drawing sustenance from blood and tissue, blooming with ghostly white flowers across the red sinew.

The sudden pain finally pulled the eyes on its back away from Lu Yan. They wept tears of blood.

[Now.]

The moment the word formed, Lu Yan dropped from above. Hellfire in his hand, he drove the blade toward the most crucial eye on the monster’s back—the one with a silver pupil.

The eyelid snapped shut with impossible speed and strength, trapping the knife tip between its folds.

Flames erupted. A shriek tore from the doctor’s throat. He forgot the little tree-man right in front of him, whirling to seize Lu Yan by the neck.

A few slender, tenacious branches shot up, blocking the monster’s path. New growth, weak, but it bought a single second of hesitation.

In combat, a second was enough.

No instruction needed. Instinct took over. Lu Yan’s jaws opened, clamping down on the eyeball embedded in the doctor’s back.

The monster thrashed on the floor. Several blood-red tentacles pierced through Lu Yan’s torso, riddling his scaled abdomen with holes. The armor-like scales might as well have been paper.

[Talent 159 - Severance].

Unsurprisingly, searing pain lanced through Lu Yan’s waist. He could picture the clean, deep line now carved across it.

If he didn’t pull back now, he’d be cut in half.

He ignored it. His teeth remained locked, grinding into the ocular flesh.

Wang Yu’s maw split wide, rows of jagged fangs tearing viciously into the monster’s hide.

Hellfire sank another half-inch deeper.

Judgmental flames ignited from the void, a burning torrent racing through the doctor’s veins, searing every limb, every joint.

Its wails grew piercing, chaotic. The sound, so close, hammered against Lu Yan’s skull, threatening to blot out his vision.

His grip didn’t falter. Only one thought remained.

Consume it.

The doctor collapsed, its weight hitting the floor with a final thud. To the very end, it never understood how the hunter had become the prey.

……

……

Yan Bei watched the scene unfold in silence.

The doctor on the ground had stopped struggling. Only its elegant hands twitched occasionally, as if with a mind of their own, the fleshy tendrils upon them giving a feeble squirm.

Lu Yan was still eating. In the quiet room, the only sound was the soft, wet crunch of mastication.

‘Eating’ was the only word that fit.

Pure. Primal. Bestial.

Dark blood had congealed on Lu Yan’s face, sticky like syrup.

He looked up at Yan Bei. One of his originally pitch-black eyes had turned completely silver.

Lu Yan would have preferred better table manners, but circumstances hadn’t allowed it.

He touched his side. The cut was deep, halfway through, grating against bone. If he stood up now, he half-expected his upper body to fold over and snap.

Regeneration was slowly knitting him back together, repairing the damaged spleen.

[Congratulations, Host. Collection progress for this fish has reached 1/2.]

The side effects of merging with pollutants were already showing. Lu Yan looked down at his hand. His fingers were too long, and an extra segment had appeared.

He had four knuckles now. The tip curved like a cat’s claw, the nail growing into a crescent moon shape.

This monster’s body had been tough enough to resist arrows from a silver bow. Yet now, Lu Yan dragged his newly-grown fingertip across it, and the doctor’s red muscle parted like soft brisket, oozing foul blood.

He waited a long time for the aberration in his hand to subside, for it to return to a semblance of normal. Even then, the bones remained slightly longer than before.

Lu Yan retrieved the key hanging from the doctor’s belt.

[Congratulations, Host. Obtained Basement Key x1.]

It seemed even in middle age, some habits died hard—like clipping your keyring to your belt.

Lu Yan felt his own waist. The severed halves had superficially reattached.

He asked the System, "Shouldn’t beating a boss drop a supply crate?"

[Oh, please. Don’t tell me you think this is a role-playing game. Want to camp the body and see if it turns into a giant health potion?]

Yan Bei had retracted most of his roots, though pale tendrils still clung to his limbs, limiting movement. Buds and a few tender green leaves adorned his head.

Lu Yan walked over. Yan Bei’s gaze was still unsettled, wary.

Wiping blood from his cheek, Lu Yan asked, "Scared?"

Yan Bei shook his head.

A faint smile touched Lu Yan’s lips. "I’ll carry you."

Yan Bei obediently climbed onto his back. He inhaled softly, catching the scent of blood on Lu Yan.

The doctor’s blood stank. But Lu Yan’s… smelled unexpectedly sweet. It reminded him of the nutrient solution he’d once had at the Prevention and Control Center.

Noticing the gill slits that had appeared near Lu Yan’s ears, Yan Bei said quietly, "The Awakened I’ve seen… their lesion progression follows one path. But you seem to have several directions of aberration happening at once."

Lu Yan didn’t answer. Truth was, he wasn’t sure what he was becoming either.

"So," Yan Bei added, "don’t worry. I’ll keep it secret."

They’d only faced two of the Romanko Manor’s three terrors, and their trio was already battered.

Yan Bei was injured, his lesion rate now past 80%. Using his abilities again was out of the question.

Lu Yan was slightly better off, but still wounded. And Michael was trapped somewhere in the tunnels, status unknown.

Of the three monsters in the manor, the wife was the earliest pollutant to undergo aberration.

Her womb even held a child formed from the placenta of some unknown creature.

Lu Yan suspected the lady of the manor had already reached S-Class.

[Close,] the System admitted. [She’s about to give birth. In nature, any creature is at its most vulnerable during labor. Pollutants are no exception.]

[This is your opportunity. Of course, you could walk away. Frankly, I never agreed with you coming to Cromer Manor now. It’s too dangerous for your current level. Even if danger and opportunity are two sides of the same coin.]

After devouring both the merchant and the doctor, Lu Yan’s spiritual power threshold had skyrocketed to 5900.

The Pope had also grown his power through consumption.

But that was the work of decades. The researchers at 03, even knowing the Pope couldn’t die, would never have let him binge like Lu Yan just had.

Eating was the most brutal, direct method of fusion.

When the Third Research Institute performed fusion surgeries, they subjected the pollutant material to dozens of processing steps, all to minimize side effects.

Anyone else would have been torn apart from the inside out by now. Lu Yan just felt uncomfortably full.

He pushed open the door to another room and helped Yan Bei onto the bed.

It was a child’s bedroom, layered with dust. Stuffed animals lay piled in a corner.

"Wait here," Lu Yan said. "I’m going to find Michael."

Lu Yan had no intention of bringing Yan Bei down to the basement. It was too dangerous.

Yan Bei’s body couldn’t withstand another fight. Even with his pain and pleasure nerves swapped, the injuries were all too real.

With both the doctor and the merchant dead, the manor held little danger now—aside from looking like a set from a horror movie.

Yan Bei lifted his head, his expression lost. "Are you leaving me behind?"

A foreign land, one close call after another. Maybe it was the suspension bridge effect, but he’d grown attached to Lu Yan.

"No," Lu Yan said.

Yan Bei looked down, his long hair spilling across the dusty bedspread, hiding most of his arm, which had already twisted into gnarled, wooden roots.

His lower body was mostly plant matter now. Fighting was out of the question. Even walking alone would be a struggle.

"Is it because… I’m a burden?" His voice held the faintest hint of a tremor.

He turned his face toward the wall, unwilling to look at Lu Yan.

Lu Yan hesitated for a moment, then reached out and ruffled his hair. "No. It’s because where I’m going… could be very dangerous."

Suddenly, Yan Bei didn’t feel quite so awful anymore.

From the center of his chest, right over his heart, a single red flower bloomed.

"This," he said softly. "For you."

[Congratulations, Host. Obtained hidden item: Yan Bei’s Red Flower.]

[A gift for someone he likes, though he doesn’t truly understand what ‘like’ means.]

[Effect: Can negate one fatal injury. The wound will be transferred to Yan Bei.]

Yan Bei shook the dust from the blanket, pulled it over his legs, and settled onto the bed. "Then come back soon," he whispered into the pillow. "I’m afraid of the dark."