Chapter 98-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World
Chapter 98 The Forsaken Village (II)
Do not touch.
So this was the consequence of touching?
The Cleaner whose head had been bitten off didn't even have time to let out a cry. From an outsider's perspective, it was an extremely eerie scene.
A person in a black protective suit was still standing. His right hand extended upward, and from his palm had grown an enormous yellow flower—which then bit off his head.
But the man was still standing. Even drenched in blood, he maintained that posture.
A headless man, his right hand cradling a massive yellow flower, as if he were the flower's pot—he was part of the flower.
Blood sprayed from the severed neck like a showerhead, raining down foul-smelling gore. The Cleaner nearest to him had his face splattered with scalding blood.
The yellow flower shifted in the air, then spread its petals and clamped back down on the dead Cleaner's severed neck.
Was the yellow flower feeding?
Even from this distance, Zhu Ning could hear the flower sucking blood—or perhaps the sound was only in her imagination. This place was hostile to one's sanity. It was hard to tell whether the details were real or hallucinated.
Glug glug glug—
The yellow flower drank its fill of blood, yet its mouthparts didn't leave the dead Cleaner's neck. The bloom grew even more lush, its massive yellow petals now streaked with blood.
Suddenly, the Cleaner moved. He maintained the pose with his arm outstretched, an inverted yellow flower sitting atop where his head should be.
The flower had taken up residence in the corpse. Its roots were planted in the Cleaner's palm, and its center wrapped around the victim's neck.
And looking like that, he actually moved.
Zhu Ning had seen Fishmen, Pigmen, jellyfish-people—but this was her first time seeing a "Flower Person." It was so grotesque, like an installation piece from some bizarre art festival.
The "Flower Person" was still wearing the Cleaner's protective suit. He was one of your own.
The people around had never imagined they'd witness such a scene. They stood frozen for a long time.
It was the most absolute silence, accompanied by an eerie numbness. Everyone even held their breath simultaneously, watching helplessly as the yellow flower fed.
Because it had happened so suddenly. So sudden and so bizarre—in just a moment, your companion had become something you couldn't comprehend... a plant?
These twenty-odd Cleaners in black protective suits seemed to have merged with nature. They gazed up at the enormous yellow flower like worshippers, or like the trees in this forest that stood equally still.
Someone was the first to move. He raised his gun with trembling hands.
Bang—!
The gunshot was earth-shattering. Zhu Ning couldn't even see who had been reckless enough to fire. The garrison troops looked over too—they could no longer intervene.
But who fired wasn't important right now. What mattered was the consequence.
The bullet hit the yellow flower like hitting a balloon. The bloom caved in on one side, the flower tilting from the bullet's impact.
He'd fired three shots total. At such close range, his aim was true—two to the head, one into the Flower Person's heart.
The engorged yellow flower was left somewhat tattered. The Flower Person's chest had been blown open, the Cleaner's protective suit completely shredded.
Did it work? Were bullets effective?
Wait—
Squelch. The Flower Person's chest suddenly pulsed, as if a seam had been ripped open, revealing what lay inside.
Something was trying to burrow out of the Flower Person's chest. A vine emerged from where the heart should be—first just one, then a whole tangle, erupting from the chest like snakes.
Bullets were useless. They'd only catalyzed the Contaminant.
The shooter was a newcomer on this mission. After firing, he stood there in a daze. How could it not work? Why were bullets useless?
His mind was consumed with why bullets hadn't worked. He muttered under his breath: "What the hell is this—"
Before he could finish, he looked down in disbelief at the writhing vine now protruding from his chest. The yellow flower had pierced his heart in an instant.
"Run! Run now!" someone screamed, broadcasting on the public channel so everyone heard.
People broke free from their frozen state and finally began scattering in all directions.
Cleaners inherently had lower sanity than Demon Hunters. Their flight was panicked and chaotic, like headless flies.
"Don't move! Don't run!" The garrison commander shouted, opening the public channel, trying to keep everyone calm.
But panic was contagious. This place was gloomy and oppressive. From the moment they'd crossed the tall grass, entered the forsaken village, and then the forest behind the hills—
Add an hour of collecting Contamination Spores, and many people's mental states were already at their breaking point.
Especially after witnessing a teammate's death up close, transformed into something so incomprehensible. Cleaners rarely faced danger directly.
They'd been mentally worn down again and again. Some who were already teetering on the edge saw their sanity plummeting even faster. The more panicked you were, the faster it dropped. The more you witnessed teammates dying, the more you panicked. The more you panicked, the more contagious it became.
Sanity loss was contagious.
Li Nianchuan's teeth chattered. Cold sweat poured down his body in an instant. He watched helplessly as fleeing Cleaners were pierced through the chest by vines.
The vines skewered people. The victims struggled for only two seconds before going limp. Blood trickled down the vines, quickly absorbed by the yellow flower.
Had he become the flower's nourishment?
By all logic, Li Nianchuan should have been running too. He wanted to move his legs, to get his body moving, but he didn't.
He remembered Fan Minghua's words: don't make unnecessary movements.
What counted as unnecessary?
Did running from the vines count as unnecessary? They'd come to collect Contamination Spores—was anything beyond collection unnecessary?
"Here's a bonus tip—if something touches you, don't struggle, don't resist." Fan Minghua had said that too.
Don't struggle even when a vine pierces your heart?
Don't struggle even when the yellow flower bites off your head?
Li Nianchuan was shaking all over, unable to utter a single word. But from the corner of his eye, he could see Zhu Ning and Xu Meng. Neither of them had moved. From start to finish, they'd maintained the same posture.
Even with Cleaners being killed, screams ringing in their ears, the two of them stood still like they were playing freeze tag.
Zhu Ning sent Li Nianchuan a pop-up message directly—not voice, just two words: Don't move!
Li Nianchuan breathed a sigh of relief. It was like taking an exam alongside the top student. You'd finished, anxious and unsure if your answers were right. Then you walked out of the exam hall and ran into the top student—and their answers matched yours.
The garrison troops leading the group hadn't spoken either. They used the same method as Zhu Ning, urgently typing text into the public channel.
Remain still. Do not move.
With a warning symbol, this line of text flashed continuously inside everyone's helmets.
Three people had moved recklessly—all near the enormous yellow flower. They must have fallen into some kind of collective panic.
Without exception, they were all devoured alive by the vines or the flower. Panic had become nourishment for the flora.
Zhu Ning's group was some distance from the epicenter. After all, they were Cleaners who'd passed evaluations to come out here. Half of them had experience operating beyond the wall. After seeing the garrison's warning, they all chose to remain still.
The garrison troops had far more experience surviving beyond the wall. Their words were life-saving.
No matter how terrified they were inside, they didn't move.
The Flower Person retained human movement patterns, walking among the motionless Cleaners. But perhaps not quite coordinated with human limbs, its movements were very slow. Each time it passed someone, it would stop, its petals quivering—as if sniffing.
Zhu Ning guessed that without a human head, it probably lacked human eyes. What did this thing use to identify its prey?
Scent?
The Flower Person moved through the crowd like an inspection, walking back and forth. The Cleaner closest to it was trembling nonstop, still splattered with the Flower Person's blood.
This person had been just five meters behind when the yellow flower devoured its victim. A minute ago they'd even been working together, and now he had to watch his colleague become this.
No normal person could accept this. His legs wouldn't stop shaking. Even knowing he should stay calm, he couldn't.
From his perspective, through a layer of protective helmet, a yellow flower suddenly appeared before his eyes, instantly filling his entire field of vision.
Had the Flower Person spotted him?
But what had he done?
He hadn't moved, hadn't made a sound, hadn't done anything inappropriate.
Why was it staring at him? Was it because it sensed the fear on him? But how could a person completely control themselves from being afraid?
Why? Why, out of so many people, was it fixated on him alone? Why was he the unlucky one?
Why did he have to encounter something like this just for coming out on a mission?
Splat—
The yellow flower made a wet, sticky sound, like something gooey being pried open.
A yellow flower "bloomed" before his eyes. Flowers were supposed to be the most harmless things—nobody would find a wildflower on the roadside terrifying.
Now the yellow flower opened, and nestled in its center was a dripping, blood-soaked head.
That was his colleague's head!
His colleague had been wearing a Cleaner's protective helmet when his head was bitten off. Now the helmet was cracked from the fangs, exposing most of the face. The face was covered in plant mucus, and the eyes were even still open.
The flower held his colleague's head, pressing right up against his face. The dead colleague's open eyes were staring directly at him.
Then the eyeballs moved.
That single movement sent chills crawling up his spine. If the eyes hadn't moved, it was just a dead person—simply a severed head that had been eaten.
But now they moved. The eyeballs rolled!
Monster. It was a monster!
The blood-red warning on his helmet still flashed: Remain still. Do not move.
But he couldn't read the words anymore. All he could see was his colleague's severed head. Monster. It was a monster.
Nobody could save him but himself. These people couldn't be trusted.
He instinctively reached for his lower back, where a gun was holstered.
One hand was already on the grip, but the gun seemed stuck—or maybe he was too tense right now. He tried multiple times but couldn't pull it free.
The yellow flower before him remained still. The colleague's head inside was still watching him. He had to strike first and get the gun.
The more desperately he tried to draw the gun, the more it wouldn't come. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He instinctively turned his head, wanting to see what was stuck.
Click—
It finally loosened. He got the gun. He thought having a weapon would make him feel safer, but a dense black shadow suddenly appeared before his eyes.
Something was blocking the space above his head. It was shaped like a flower.
When a person faces mortal danger, their choices become very strange—impossible to predict by common sense. For instance, right now: he could feel something pressing against his protective helmet.
Wisps of hot breath were right behind him, accompanied by a thick, foul stench of blood. It was as if someone was breathing right beside him.
He could feel his sanity plummeting.
He turned his head ever so slightly and finally saw a yellow flower, its petals spread wide, the mouth inside gaping to the extreme.
He'd never looked at his colleague like this before. That gaping mouth wanted to swallow him whole.
He drew his gun. Before he could aim and pull the trigger—
The next instant, the yellow flower bit down.
Crunch—
The last sound he heard was the sound of his own head being bitten off. The gun clattered into the grass. He died without ever getting a shot off.
Blood sprayed once more. Droplets landed on the three people nearby. In that instant, the blood felt impossibly heavy on their bodies—all of it their colleague's blood.
The second person to have their head eaten by the yellow flower.
The yellow flower continued moving through the crowd after feeding. The bloom grew even more lush and beautiful.
Wherever it passed, it left a trail of shudders. After watching this several times, people could no longer stomach the gore.
How many more colleagues had to die?
How much longer would this torture last?
The yellow flower came to Zhu Ning's area—more precisely, near the three of them.
Having consumed enough heads, the flower head had become bulging and swollen. Blood still seeped from between the petals. As it approached, its enormous shadow fell over all three of them.
Close enough to see many details—the writhing mass of vines on the Flower Person's chest looked like some kind of contamination that would drain your sanity if you stared too long.
Zhu Ning could see Li Nianchuan's legs visibly shaking. Through the helmet, she could hear rapid, panicked breathing from his channel. He was terrified. Zhu Ning could feel Li Nianchuan's fear.
The yellow flower walked toward Li Nianchuan, step by step.
They'd been targeted. Xu Meng was to Li Nianchuan's right, Zhu Ning behind him.
Xu Meng was closer to Li Nianchuan. If anything happened, she could lend a hand first. She too remained calm.
Zhu Ning's mind was racing. She was trying to figure out this flower's logic.
Do the abnormal thing in a normal place, do the normal thing in an abnormal place. The yellow flower was a Contaminant—it definitely had its own internal logic.
Contaminants had to follow some kind of pattern. What was the pattern?
Plants by nature didn't move—especially flowers. This flower had been plucked by a human and had then parasitized a human body, using human legs to move.
When the yellow flower bit off the head, it gave Zhu Ning a very familiar feeling—like a human spotting a pretty flower on the roadside and snapping it off.
If you looked at it from the flower's perspective, when a human was picking a plant, wasn't it equally bloody and cruel?
A yellow flower was growing peacefully by the roadside when suddenly a massive creature appeared. A shadow fell, and then—snap—its stem was broken.
Humans held the fresh flower in their hands and even sighed: how beautiful, how lovely.
Was this the same thing?
Was the flower... "picking humans"?
The thought made Zhu Ning furrow her brow. The relationship between humans and plants had been reversed. Now these Cleaners in black protective suits were plants rooted in the ground, helpless to resist. And the flower had become the one towering above, the harvester who could decide their life or death.
Did this flower have consciousness? Would it be delighted to have received a fresh bouquet of "human flowers" today?
Was this method of harvesting... random?
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