Chapter 190-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World

Chapter 190 Origin

Next, Zhu Ning told her about being an experimental subject. Huo Wenxi frowned the entire time, and by the time Zhu Ning finished, Huo Wenxi had smoked exactly two cigarettes.

The room was quiet—even quieter than during the earlier confrontation.

Huo Wenxi had known Zhu Ning was no ordinary person. She hadn't expected the truth to be this bizarre.

The highest-discussed thread on the Sanitation Center's forum had people calling Zhu Ning a demon. In a way, their guess was correct—she really did resemble an awakened demon.

She was a vessel for contaminants. A carrier.

Previously, Huo Wenxi had asked whether Zhu Ning might betray humanity. Zhu Ning could barely be classified as any species at all. Her sanity score likely far exceeded S-Level.

After a long pause, Huo Wenxi finally spoke: "So you're a garbage purifier?"

Zhu Ning: "..."

Sis, what kind of analogy is that?

Zhu Ning: "Worse, actually. I'm a garbage purifier that hasn't reached its complete form yet."

She couldn't fully "use" herself. Many of her functions were probably still unknown to her.

Huo Wenxi felt like she'd been absorbing shocks all day. She organized her thoughts, trying her best to view Zhu Ning as a special ability user, and asked: "How does the devouring work? What's the range?"

Zhu Ning: "No idea. Never properly tested it."

She'd used Devour twice before. Desolate Village had gone relatively smoothly. The time at the company, she'd only been able to use it when she was on the verge of death. Plus, the Xenomorph was a coward—it had even tried to eat Zhu Ning when she wasn't paying attention.

Huo Wenxi tapped the table with her finger. "Theoretically, you're the same species as the thing below?"

Zhu Ning: "You could say that."

All Alpha Series experimental subjects likely originated from this type of contaminant. Zhu Ning didn't know which one the contaminant in her brain had come from.

She might have a "parent body"—something like the entity below.

The only certainty was that she'd probably unlocked less than ten percent of her own potential.

Huo Wenxi: "Once you've grown enough, you could devour the contaminant below?"

Zhu Ning: "I can't even imagine it."

She genuinely couldn't wrap her head around it. It was like tossing a baby whose teeth hadn't even grown in before a mammoth—no knife, no fork—and telling her to devour a giant beast.

So Zhu Ning could only speculate that what she needed to devour was the contamination source.

Huo Wenxi narrowed her eyes. "So if you lose control, you could end up like that thing below?"

The System inside Zhu Ning's brain was machinery encasing a contaminant. Once it breached the final barrier and the contents surged out—contamination spreading—it would absolutely be a catastrophe.

Zhu Ning: "It's possible."

Huo Wenxi frowned. Zhu Ning was her ally, but also potentially the greatest source of danger.

Huo Wenxi: "You're telling me this so I can be mentally prepared?"

Zhu Ning: "Yes."

She didn't know to what extent she could control the System, let alone what might happen to her later.

Huo Wenxi's ability was intuition—perfectly suited for "keeping watch" over Zhu Ning, providing early warning before anything happened.

Huo Wenxi clicked her tongue. Zhu Ning had exposed herself as a potential threat, then handed the decision-making power to Huo Wenxi. This move could break down the biggest barrier between them—it was the foundation of their alliance.

And there was a bonus: it meant Huo Wenxi would be cleaning up her messes forever.

Had Huo Wenxi owed her money in a past life?

Huo Wenxi didn't light another cigarette. She mulled over Zhu Ning's words carefully. Zhu Ning might be the breakthrough, but she was unstable.

A walking bomb—one that might destroy the enemy, or might destroy herself.

Huo Wenxi was the one holding the bomb.

Zhu Ning asked: "Have you heard of the Alpha Series Experiment?"

Huo Wenxi: "Never. My task has been investigating the Sanitation Center's internal affairs."

That experiment belonged to Eternal Pharma, and it was from ages ago. Huo Wenxi was too young—she had no idea what the older generation had done.

Zhu Ning wasn't disappointed. Among the people she'd encountered so far, only Bao Ruiming and Chu Qing knew. Bao Ruiming because he'd lived long enough to have seen everything, and Chu Qing because she was Eternal Pharma's insider.

Bao Ruiming was dead. She should find an opportunity to approach Chu Qing.

That deranged professor had been missing for too long. Something was definitely off.

Still, Huo Wenxi had strong composure. She'd probably already suspected Zhu Ning was abnormal, so she showed no extreme reaction—at least she didn't treat her as a demon.

"There's something about Desolate Village I didn't tell you," Huo Wenxi said, moving past the topic. She'd accepted the fact that Zhu Ning was a garbage processor and began sharing her own intel. "The investigation team brought back more than one piece of video evidence."

Zhu Ning clicked her tongue. Huo Wenxi was crafty—only sharing key information after confirming their alliance.

Huo Wenxi pulled a package from her bag. "There's also a notebook."

A notebook?

Huo Wenxi had wrapped it meticulously. The outermost layer was a plastic bag, inside that was cloth wrapping. Zhu Ning unwrapped it layer by layer like opening a gift, and the deeper she went, the stranger it became.

The final layer was a filthy rag stained with dried blood and some unidentifiable black fluid.

Zhu Ning peeled back the rag, revealing the notebook in full—a hardcover waterproof notebook.

The edges of the cover were yellowed with age. The moment she cracked it open, a musty smell wafted out. If Huo Wenxi hadn't handed it to her personally, Zhu Ning would've thought this thing could spread contamination.

Zhu Ning glanced up at Huo Wenxi, who appeared perfectly calm. "The investigation team retraced Jiang Ping's route, gathering all available materials. They found this in a village behind Desolate Village—in someone's home, propped under a table leg."

Zhu Ning: "..."

Did the person using it as a table-leg shim even know this thing was important?

There was actually another village behind Desolate Village.

The investigators' job was to bring back anything potentially valuable. They probably didn't know what these materials meant. Huo Wenxi had spotted this seemingly unrelated notebook among the items they'd carried back.

Zhu Ning opened the notebook. Before she could read what was written, she noticed a black-and-white photograph tucked into the title page.

In this era, photos were basically all in color—unless someone was going for a monochrome aesthetic. Old-fashioned photos like this were rare.

The edges of the photo even had the distinctive serrated border of antique prints, completely yellowed.

Zhu Ning could only examine the photo's contents. It showed a temple with an Idol inside.

It was the same one she'd seen in Desolate Village. Its form had changed again—the surface covered in wrinkles, as though covered in goosebumps.

Ever since she'd looked directly at the underground contaminant, viewing the Idol no longer had much impact on Zhu Ning.

Mental fortitude really could be trained.

At first glance the temple looked normal—an idol, an offering table, prayer cushions.

But on closer inspection, the temple was upside down. Completely inverted top to bottom—because a person was standing in front of it, and the photo captured their shoulder.

From that person's perspective, the temple's floor was built into the ceiling, like some inverted apparatus hanging from above.

The photo was bewildering to look at. Because it was black-and-white and blurry, Zhu Ning couldn't tell whether the person was upside down or the temple was. Staring too long made her dizzy.

Zhu Ning: "What is this?"

Why was Huo Wenxi showing her a notebook at this critical juncture?

Huo Wenxi: "Read what's inside."

Zhu Ning set the photo aside and began reading the notes.

The very first line: March 1, 2007.

Zhu Ning froze at just the first line. She'd read many people's journals—this was the first one that didn't use the New Calendar.

This was a record from the Old World.

"My name is Chen Qihang. I'm a Paranormal Investigator. My primary duty is investigating anomalous phenomena—you could say I study the occult."

Zhu Ning asked: "He was in the same line of work as you?"

Huo Wenxi: "More or less."

Zhu Ning continued reading. Chen Qihang wrote: "It started when I received a letter asking me to investigate the contents of a photograph. The photo was extremely strange—staring at it too long produced odd sounds in my head. Ever since the day I first saw it, I've been having nightmares. I kept dreaming I was the person standing in front of the temple. So I came to this place—Ghost Veil Village."

"Legend has it that mysterious supernatural forces exist here. Some people receive divine protection in this place. Of course, violent incidents have occurred in this village too—someone once went insane and murdered their entire family of nine. The locals all say it was a curse."

March 9, 2007.

"I've been living in the village for a week. The villagers are kind. They even gave me dried white radish and vegetables they grew themselves. I feel like I'm quickly becoming part of the community."

April 1, 2007.

"When I was sleeping last night, I saw someone standing outside my window. Scared the hell out of me. Before I could get a clear look, they ran off. The longer I stay here, the more uncomfortable I feel. When I look in the mirror, I seem to have aged ten years."

After that, Chen Qihang documented the terrifying incidents he encountered. For instance, all the chopsticks in his home suddenly snapped in half—broken cleanly at the middle, as though something sharp had sliced through them.

Another time, he fished a fresh severed hand out of the pickle jar in his backyard. He never found who it belonged to.

Zhu Ning suspected he'd encountered contamination.

May 19, 2007.

"Ghost Veil Village has some kind of faith. In the middle of the night I hear people singing. It's the sound of ritual—like they're making offerings."

"I have some knowledge of religion. As far as I know, the locals' earliest belief should have been shamanism."

Shamanism? Zhu Ning had hit her knowledge blind spot.

Chen Qihang: "Shamanism has a concept called Evergreen Animism—what we commonly call 'all things possess spirit.' Every blade of grass, every flower has a soul."

Zhu Ning actually found this surprisingly fitting.

Granting a worm life—wasn't that animism in action?

Zhu Ning read on. Chen Qihang wrote: "But they don't seem to worship this anymore. Or rather, they once did, but later abandoned their god and found a new one?"

A large question mark appeared in the notebook. Chen Qihang's handwriting grew messy, as though he was deeply uncertain about his own speculation.

Zhu Ning flipped ahead quickly, skipping past some of his investigation diary entries and complaints.

September 7, 2007.

Chen Qihang: "It's been half a year. They trust me more and more. Today they finally took me to a ritual."

His writing seemed rushed.

"They led me to the temple entrance. Strange—when I saw the temple, it was right-side up. Not inverted like in the photograph. I took one look and froze. It felt like something was watching me. Goosebumps erupted all over my body—and from every single goosebump, a human eye grew out. Then old Liu beside me shoved me and told me to lower my head. No one dares look directly at it. They all wear white pointed caps to hide their faces."

"They told me to pray for blessings. I don't believe in gods. Even though I study the occult, I'm an atheist. That day was the first time my convictions wavered. They said that thing could grant eternal life. They... they called it Umai."

Umai? What was that?

Zhu Ning flipped to the next page. It was dark brownish-black—the residue of some dried liquid that obscured all the writing.

She turned several more pages. Nearly all of them were stuck together. Zhu Ning wasn't wearing gloves and had been handling the notebook bare-handed.

Her fingers had been resting on the pages as she turned them. Suddenly, she felt something pulsing beneath her fingertip.

Thump—

As if what she was touching wasn't a notebook, but a heart.

The sensation was scalding. The dried liquid suddenly seemed to flow again, as though trying to crawl up her fingers onto her body.

Zhu Ning yanked her hand back. She stared at the notebook in disbelief, then touched it again. This time nothing happened—as though everything before had been her imagination.

This thing... was alive?

The temperature in the room plummeted several degrees. She actually felt danger from a notebook.

"You felt it too?" Huo Wenxi asked.

Zhu Ning looked up at her. Now she finally understood why Huo Wenxi was wearing leather gloves today.

Zhu Ning: "What is this thing?"

Huo Wenxi: "Can't say for certain."

Zhu Ning's brow furrowed deeply. A thought surged through her mind—if the underground contaminant could turn ants and worms into humans, granting them human consciousness...

Could it also... turn a human into an object?

For instance... into the notebook he wrote in every day?

What Zhu Ning held wasn't just any object. It was Chen Qihang himself—transformed into a notebook, then used as a table-leg shim.

Objectifying people, personifying objects. That phrase was no longer a metaphor—it was reality.

Chen Qihang was an investigator who'd been drawn to Ghost Veil Village by a photograph. He'd always felt the place was getting stranger, but curiosity kept him there.

He'd integrated with the locals, becoming almost one of them.

Finally, he passed every test the villagers set. During the next ritual, they brought Chen Qihang along, saying that praying for blessings would grant eternal life.

Chen Qihang agreed. Half-believing, half-doubting, he performed the prayer. Nothing happened on the first day—he could still write in his notebook.

Nothing on the second day either. He was starting to think it was all nonsense—superstition, just as he'd suspected.

But gradually something felt wrong. His body grew thinner and thinner—paper-thin—until finally he became the notebook itself.

Chen Qihang had truly achieved "eternal life." Just in a different form.

Did he still have consciousness? Did he think it was because he hadn't been devout enough, or that he'd been cursed?

Huo Wenxi: "I thought the same thing."

Zhu Ning took a deep breath. She closed the notebook as respectfully as she could, wrapping it back up layer by layer in the dirty rags, then placed it in the plastic bag Huo Wenxi had brought.

But it didn't seem to help. Even sealed in the bag, the thing radiated a bone-chilling cold—as if it had already seeped out and burrowed into her pores.

Zhu Ning's hands felt dirty, as though no amount of washing could clean them.

Zhu Ning asked: "Is there any other material?"

"No. The only thing of value is the notebook." Huo Wenxi: "There's also a living witness, though I still don't know how he escaped."

That half-crazed investigator was still being detained.

Huo Wenxi: "The later pages of the notebook are obscured. I can't read them—they're meaningless to me. It's yours now."

Zhu Ning thought: you just placed a corpse in my cozy little home. It felt like her apartment had suddenly acquired something cold and damp.

Zhu Ning asked: "What is Umai?"

Huo Wenxi: "Not entirely sure. I looked it up—in Old Turkic, it means 'placenta.'"

Placenta? That sounded like some form of mother-goddess worship.

She'd once discussed with Pei Shu whether gods existed. She'd always believed there were only contaminants.

Bizarre phenomena occurred locally. The villagers interpreted them as curses or divine miracles, then worshipped the contaminant below as a god.

People had taken an anomalous phenomenon, fit it into the shell of religion, and used it to grow their organization. An old human trick.

For the longest time, religion had been a tool for those in power to control people.

Zhu Ning guessed the Revival Society worked the same way—they'd found a "god" and attracted people like Bao Ruiming.

She pushed aside the uneasy feeling and reviewed the whole picture. She hadn't gone on this latest expedition outside the wall and didn't know exactly what had happened. The clues she'd gathered were fragmented.

But a rough outline was taking shape.

The Desolate Village incident—it had granted life to a worm, turning it into Jiang Ping.

This Old World investigator had most likely become a notebook.

Huo Wenxi's investigators had entered the area near Desolate Village to investigate. The closer they got, the stronger the mysterious force became. One night they encountered a contamination event—exact cause unknown.

The field investigator had scrambled into a cave in desperation. He'd seen the massive contaminant hidden underground and captured video footage.

Afterward he'd broken through the contaminants' perimeter. By the time he made it back inside the wall, he'd gone completely mad.

All contaminants follow patterns. What was this one's pattern?

Was it converting the relationship between people and objects? Or was it pure insane chaos with no logic at all?

Did the villagers' worship of Umai have any connection to the Revival Society? Were they the same faith, or did they worship the same entity under different names?

Wait—Zhu Ning suddenly looked up. "How old is this notebook?"

Huo Wenxi: "One hundred and thirty years."

Zhu Ning's understanding of this world was limited. The radiation mutation crisis eighty years ago should have been around 2057. After that, humanity erected the High Walls and began using the New Calendar.

If the notebook's date was authentic, it proved this had been happening for a very long time. Long before the Federation was established—before humanity built the High Walls—contaminants already existed.

Then what was the origin of it all?

If she could unlock this secret, Zhu Ning would be one step closer to the world's truth.

"I've always wanted to ask," Zhu Ning said. "How did the original contamination actually happen?"

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