Chapter 91-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World

Chapter 91 I'm Hungry

Time seemed to freeze in an instant.

After the pause came a deathly silence. Then the black slime surged wildly. Initially, it had been expanding to claim the bedroom's territory.

Now it clung to the ceiling, jammed into the door cracks, crawled into the ventilation ducts. It had crawled out of Zhu Ning's body, feeding on her collapsing psyche as nourishment.

If allowed, it would have crawled over the entire Dignified Queen, endlessly invading, potentially occupying half of District 103.

It fed on Zhu Ning's negative emotions. Now it was as if its food supply had been suddenly cut off.

Or as if the master's command superseded them entirely—no room for refusal, no choice but to obey.

It took shape. A black creature hung upside down from the ceiling, like an inverted bat, or an inverted black mummy. Less than a meter separated it from Zhu Ning. The black slime stared straight at her.

This was what had grown from her body—part of her, and also her enemy.

Its hollow eyes gazed over. Zhu Ning knew not to look into its eyes, or she would die. That mysterious and powerful force seemed capable of peering into the depths of one's soul.

But right now, Zhu Ning was staring directly at it.

Was this a Contaminant constructed by her own Contamination Zone? Or a high-level Xenomorph that had latched onto her to reproduce and regenerate? Or had the System activated some function?

Zhu Ning didn't know what it counted as. They were parasites that fed on her, clinging to her body just like the System.

Parasites should behave like parasites. Like vines that must depend on a great tree—Zhu Ning was that tree.

She might never be rid of these things in her lifetime, but the hierarchy between them had to be set straight. Zhu Ning was the master. Everything else could only depend on her.

They were shrieking. Zhu Ning heard it—agonized howls.

As if compelled to obey the command of a more powerful existence, the black slime began to dissolve. It hung from the ceiling, falling like raindrops, reconverging, reassembling.

They crawled toward Zhu Ning. More precisely, Zhu Ning was devouring them.

They returned to where they came from. Tons of black slime pressed down onto Zhu Ning's body.

An ordinary human body was only so large. Beneath the tsunami of slime, she appeared so small—like a willow branch bearing millions of pounds of pressure.

The willow branch was bent to its limit, using its flexibility to endure the crushing force, curved to an extreme arc, as if it would snap at any moment.

But she didn't retreat, and she didn't break. Data streams flickered in Zhu Ning's eyes, radiating an indescribable brilliance.

If she truly was an experimental product, her bones, flesh, and even nerves were all artificial. The System in her brain was a fusion of Contaminant and machine.

Now her gears were spinning at high speed, sparks flying under the extreme load. Her heart contracted and beat violently, as if it would tear through her chest and burst out at any moment.

At her limit, she might collapse again—this time truly ground to dust. But she would not retreat, would not yield.

She stared directly at the enemy before her, feeling the black, icy slime returning to her body, like seawater flooding in reverse.

It entered through the back of her neck, climbing along her spine, dispersing outward in an orderly pattern from the spine as its center.

The slime coated each of her bones, adhering to the white bone, then disappearing. Adhering, disappearing. Adhering, disappearing.

Infinite adhesions, countless absorptions, until finally it merged with her flesh and blood.

Monster. Zhu Ning had never felt so clearly that she was a monster.

She couldn't describe what she was doing. No existing knowledge could explain her state.

Crack—

She heard the sound of her own spine breaking.

...

Boom!

A sudden thunderous noise came from upstairs in the Dignified Queen. Bottles crashed to the floor, shattering everywhere. It was like an earthquake, or like something buried deep underground was awakening.

"What happened? An earthquake?" a customer asked.

"What's going on?"

The well-trained staff reacted faster. Even so, they maintained their polished smiles—crisis management was part of their professional training.

"We have a special situation today. Please evacuate immediately. All drinks tonight are on the house."

Some customers were unhappy, but the acting manager offered generous compensation. Combined with the ongoing tremors, nobody wanted to risk their life here, so the guests reluctantly accepted.

The customers evacuated remarkably fast. They filed out in an orderly fashion. No customers had been in the basement today.

Once everyone was gone, the other staff asked, "What happened?"

Nothing like this had ever happened since the shop opened. The earthquake kept going. What was Boss Song doing down there? Hatching a dark god?

"I don't know," the acting manager said, equally clueless. His expression was grave. "The basement is sealed off."

The entire underground passage was sealed. No one from outside could get in. The acting manager said, "Let's head out first."

The Dignified Queen had house rules. They followed protocol.

"What about Boss Song?" a staff member asked. "We're just going to leave him?"

The acting manager: "He'll handle it."

Song Zhizhang leaned against the metal door. He could feel the tremors behind him. Something indescribable was growing.

The tiny Dignified Queen was not a suitable birthplace. If it grew large enough, the entire shop would be swallowed.

Song Zhizhang was always well-prepared, yet now he felt his own insignificance. This room's level of security couldn't hold.

He had already cleared the hallway. Lin Xiaofeng was trembling. She was too special—she could probably sense what was happening inside even more acutely.

Song Zhizhang didn't leave. In this situation, running anywhere was pointless.

Actually, his ability was the most suited for this. The Safe House inside wasn't the last line of defense—Song Zhizhang himself was.

With his ability, he could choose to seal this place off, truly creating a cage—like pouring cement, completely entombing whatever was alive inside.

He could do it. But that would mean Zhu Ning would die in there. What terrified Song Zhizhang more than Zhu Ning was this: he could trade his life, one for one, to trap and kill Zhu Ning. But he didn't want to.

He didn't want to snuff out a living human being.

Song Zhizhang remembered the first time he met Zhu Ning. She'd been wearing a black protective suit that looked like motorcycle gear, asking him where the hotpot restaurant was.

Song Zhizhang had pointed her down a path—he was the one who pushed Zhu Ning onto the predetermined road Prometheus had laid out. So Song Zhizhang felt an inexplicable sense of responsibility toward Zhu Ning. You led someone astray, so you had to bear the consequences.

He remembered Zhu Ning, exhausted from overusing her sanity, falling asleep on his couch without any guard up.

He also remembered her saying, "Aren't I your baby anymore?"

Song Zhizhang could bury Zhu Ning, but he didn't want to. Not because he couldn't bear to lose his own life, but because he couldn't bear to lose hers.

Lin Xiaofeng sensed Song Zhizhang's fear. She had only known him for a few days, but in her eyes, Song Zhizhang had always maintained his elegance and composure.

Now his eyes were slightly downcast, reddened, something constantly flickering in their depths.

Lin Xiaofeng had never seen this expression on Song Zhizhang. Since childhood, she had learned to read adults' micro-expressions to gauge their emotions, adjusting her own reactions accordingly. Never cause trouble. Always be more obedient.

Song Zhizhang's expression told her that Zhu Ning's condition was not good.

Something might have happened to Zhu Ning.

Lin Xiaofeng's mind went blank. She leaned against the metal door. The door was clearly incredibly thick, yet right now it felt as fragile as cardboard.

Lin Xiaofeng slowly drew her knees up. She stared at the fuzzy slippers on her feet—slippers that Zhu Ning had also bought for her.

They had lain on the couch together, scrolling through online shopping pages for a long time. Zhu Ning gave her full freedom to choose, letting her pick out clothes she liked.

Before meeting Zhu Ning, she had never had the right to choose her own clothes. She was just a doll for others to dress up as they pleased.

Now she had become a Transparent Person. She clearly didn't need to dress up at all. All accessories were unnecessary for her—outsiders couldn't even see her. But Zhu Ning treated her like a real person.

"Go pick what you like."

So Lin Xiaofeng had chosen a pair of black bunny slippers. It was from the bedtime story Song Zhizhang had told—"A Rabbit's Revenge." Lin Xiaofeng didn't know if there was some deeper meaning or if Song Zhizhang had just made it up on the spot, but she always remembered it.

She tucked her feet back. The fuzzy slippers were so warm and soft, while the thing behind her was so terrifying and bone-chilling. The two formed such an exaggerated contrast that it was impossible to ignore.

Lin Xiaofeng covered her face, feeling as though Zhu Ning was still beside her, never having left.

Click—

Lin Xiaofeng and Song Zhizhang didn't know how long they had waited when suddenly they heard loosening sounds from the metal door behind them. Lin Xiaofeng had been leaning all her weight against the door and now felt slightly dazed.

There were two metal doors in total. One at the bedroom entrance, and one about a third of the way down the hallway. They were outside the second door.

Both metal doors opened automatically, revealing the room at the very end of the hallway. They had been in too much of a rush when fleeing to close the door.

Now the door stood open, like the gaping maw of an abyss.

Lin Xiaofeng looked up. Song Zhizhang furrowed his brow.

The security doors had activated their emergency protocol and could no longer be manually overridden. Opening now meant either Zhu Ning had been killed by the emergency countermeasures inside.

Or the contamination concentration had dropped.

The blue stud earring on Song Zhizhang's earlobe flickered. He couldn't connect to the monitoring room's data from here, but Prometheus could. Prometheus had just reported that contamination concentration was dropping.

50%, 30%, 20%...

Song Zhizhang was somewhat dazed. He glanced down at his Sub-Brain. Half an hour had passed. Only half an hour, yet it felt like a lifetime.

Song Zhizhang's legs were stiff. He could barely move them. Very slowly, he gathered his thoughts. "Xiaofeng, I'll go check first. Don't move."

Lin Xiaofeng had wanted to follow him in, but hearing Song Zhizhang's words, she stayed put. She knew she was unstable and couldn't become a second Source of Contamination.

Song Zhizhang saw the black fuzzy slippers standing in place. He walked into the room. The living room lights were off. He fumbled for the switch, and after turning it on, instinctively squinted.

The living room looked the same as always. The apron Song Zhizhang had draped over the dining chair that morning was still there. It was as if nothing had happened.

So familiar. Back then, he had lived right here, repeating the same routine day after day, readjusting himself.

He had once spent three weeks here. Zhu Ning only needed half an hour?

Two bedrooms and a living room. Through the front door, the two bedrooms were on the left and right. Zhu Ning's was on the right.

Song Zhizhang stopped at the door. No black slime in the door crack. The oppressive pressure had been withdrawn.

But just as a large predator always leaves traces after departing, a bone-cold feeling lingered here, still instinctively terrifying to approach.

"Zhu Ning?" Song Zhizhang called out cautiously.

He heard no response. Song Zhizhang took a deep breath and turned the door handle. "I'm coming in?"

Creak—

The bedroom door swung open. Nothing out of the ordinary inside. Everything was fine. The blanket on the bed was rumpled. A black vintage notebook sat on the grass-green comforter. The bedside lamp was on, slightly tilted.

Zhu Ning's bedroom was full of lived-in warmth. The ceiling light swayed gently, but there were no Contaminants or bizarre monsters.

It was clean. Too clean, in fact—because even Zhu Ning wasn't there.

Where had she gone? Vanished? Devoured by the Contaminant?

In this world, nothing was surprising anymore. They had explored less than half of this world's secrets so far. Song Zhizhang felt that Zhu Ning evaporating today would be perfectly normal.

The bathroom door was ajar, not fully closed. Song Zhizhang carefully pushed it open. He had only pushed it halfway when a dark shadow flashed before his eyes.

Before he could react, his neck was suddenly seized. The grip was immensely strong.

Bang!

The next instant, Song Zhizhang was slammed against the tiled wall. His back was pinned against the bathroom wall. A brute force pressed him into the tiles with a sharp crack. His back left a spiderweb of fractures in the ceramic.

His vulnerable throat was in her hand. She could crush him at any moment. But Song Zhizhang didn't struggle.

Because it was Zhu Ning.

She looked entirely different from before. An incomprehensible brightness flickered in her eyes—a cold, inorganic gleam, especially stark in the pitch-dark bathroom.

Like the eyes of an unknown monster opening in the darkness.

Moreover, she radiated an overwhelmingly oppressive aura. Instinct told Song Zhizhang not to move. If he moved, Zhu Ning would actually crush his throat.

"Zhu... Ning?" Song Zhizhang called her name. With his throat being squeezed, the words came out strained.

Zhu Ning narrowed her eyes, seemingly recognizing who he was. Her fingers loosened, and Song Zhizhang could finally breathe.

Zhu Ning raised an eyebrow and looked at him coldly. "Even if you're the landlord, you can't just barge into my bathroom, can you?"

Whatever Zhu Ning had been through, she looked extremely irritable and not to be trifled with. Her face practically screamed: This is my territory, and what you just did was very rude.

Song Zhizhang's throat burned with pain. Even after being snapped at, he wasn't angry. "I'm sorry."

Zhu Ning's emotions were volatile, but her mind seemed fine.

Zhu Ning was the type who responded to softness, not force. Hearing this, she looked at him with some puzzlement. Vivid finger marks lined both sides of Song Zhizhang's jaw, and his eyes were red, as if he were about to cry.

Zhu Ning had never seen Song Zhizhang like this.

Song Zhizhang wanted to ask what she had been through, but didn't know where to begin. He politely left the bathroom.

Zhu Ning ignored him. She turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror—deathly pale, forehead covered in cold sweat.

She had just consumed that mass of stuff when Song Zhizhang walked in, so she hadn't had time to examine herself.

Zhu Ning touched the back of her neck. The black slime had vanished from the skin's surface. She checked her body—aside from a few wounds, nothing remained. The fractured spine had healed.

There was just a strange hard lump under the skin at the back of her neck, as if something was buried inside.

Ever since Zhu Ning learned she was an experimental product with a System in her brain, her acceptance of these things had been remarkably good. They were all parasites anyway—one or two made no difference.

Zhu Ning didn't get a nosebleed this time. She was just a bit irritable. She stared into the mirror, locking eyes with another version of herself, trying to relearn how to use herself.

She had already shifted her thinking. There should be many more possibilities within her.

Zhu Ning's brow lowered. The data streams in her eyes vanished, as if a screen had been powered off. She returned to a pair of normal black pupils—normal human eyes.

Zhu Ning turned off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom. Song Zhizhang was waiting for her in the living room.

He seemed even more shaken than Zhu Ning. His face was excessively pale, making the finger marks she had just left on him stand out prominently. He was rubbing his own throat.

That fragile? She'd only squeezed once.

Zhu Ning felt herself veering further toward tyrant territory, finding it a bit hard to control. She thought for a moment, then belatedly felt a twinge of guilt.

She had nearly wrecked his shop just now. "I'll compensate you for the damages to the shop," Zhu Ning said.

Song Zhizhang: "Okay."

His voice betrayed no emotion at all. Had Song Zhizhang been scared stupid in the past few hours?

The one who had just gone through that indescribable, bizarre event was Zhu Ning, not Song Zhizhang.

"Song Zhizhang." Zhu Ning called his name.

Song Zhizhang looked up slightly. He clearly hadn't recovered yet, still somewhat dazed.

Zhu Ning walked up to face him. She wasn't sure if it was Song Zhizhang's imagination, but Zhu Ning seemed to have grown taller—or rather, her gaze was simply like that. When she looked at you directly, you couldn't look away.

Zhu Ning: "I'm hungry."

"Hm?" Song Zhizhang heard this but still couldn't snap out of it.

Zhu Ning looked at him calmly and repeated: "I'm hungry."

Song Zhizhang's brain started working. He was a little uncertain. What kind of hungry did Zhu Ning mean? Right now... it seemed entirely possible she'd go devour a Source of Contamination.

---

Author's Note

Another painful Monday. I feel like work has already drained me dry...

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