Chapter 26: Mutation

Something’s off. Something is very wrong.

Li Cheng, hiding beneath the bridge, had bloodshot eyes and was gasping for air.

He had applied medicinal powder to his head and roughly stitched the wound with thread to stop the bleeding. Yet the ant-hair needles on his hands refused to fade.

Worse still, he could feel the Lord of Insects’ corruption intensifying. His tendons, bones, blood vessels, and skin were all transforming into insect-like matter.

Riiip—

The muscle on his right thigh swelled uncontrollably, bursting his jeans, as a torrent of power surged upward.

Li Cheng braced himself with his hands on the ground to avoid falling, but the mantis-bone blade on his right arm continued to grow, extending veins and nerves from its tip, as if forming a new limb.

Simultaneously, his right eye’s vision blurred and fragmented. With a trembling left hand, he pulled out his phone, opened the camera, and clearly saw his right pupil quivering rapidly, as if about to split.

Whether it was the grass-paving ant or the giant mantis, both possessed compound eyes.

Stop!

Li Cheng raised his fist and slammed it hard against his chest.

His heart abruptly halted; his blood flow stalled. The mutation trend in his right side slowed instantly.

With all his willpower, he resisted the constant erosion of his consciousness and the urge to kill. After what felt like an eternity, the mutation finally receded.

The mantis-bone blade and arm needle-hairs slowly retracted. His thigh muscle returned to normal. His pupil ceased trembling.

“Huh…”

Drenched in cold sweat, Li Cheng exhaled deeply, collapsed beneath the bridge, and regained his strength.

About twenty minutes later, he stood up, pushed his bike back onto the street, rode home, washed up, and called Yu Yulu on WeChat.

On the surface, he was checking in on her—but in truth, he was probing for information about the hospital. Sure enough, he heard police sirens in the background.

Presumably, the police or the Special Affairs Bureau had discovered the giant corpse beside the flowerbed and sealed off the scene to clean up traces.

After hanging up, Li Cheng weighed his options, gathered all his assets—the mantis with blood amber inside, the four Lord of Insects’ divine corruption fragments—and placed them, along with the newly seized black grease, into several vacuum-sealed plastic bags.

Then he changed into a fresh set of clothes, climbed over the wall of his bedroom, and returned to the street.

His current condition was utterly abnormal, as if he had entered a new stage. He couldn’t be sure he’d survive the next sudden mutation.

Yins City still had roughly five thousand public phone booths. He found one and dialed the number on the business card given to him by Changsun Yao: [World Nuclear Shelter].

“Hello?”

“Hello,” Li Cheng paused, choosing his words carefully, “Chenghua Community, Building 6, Unit 803. I’m the one.”

That address was where the Lord of Insects’ infected had killed the couple—and where Li Cheng had first met Changsun Yao.

“Oh, it’s you,” Changsun Yao’s tone was intrigued. “I thought you’d never call this number.”

“Can we meet? I need to hire you for something.”

“Sure. Pick the place.”

“Lianhua North Road. Starbucks.”

Li Cheng hung up and headed toward the destination. He didn’t rush into the café. Instead, he hid around the corner and observed silently.

Ten minutes later, Changsun Yao arrived, sat by the window, ordered coffee—and only then did Li Cheng enter Starbucks and sit across from her.

Changsun Yao wore a white hoodie under a black coat, paired with jeans—a typical urban white-collar look.

“You’re really cautious.”

She studied Li Cheng, noticing the 502 glue on his fingertips and recognizing his face as that of the middle-aged man killed by the Lord of Insects’ infected—though he now wore sunglasses.

More crucially, just across from this Starbucks stood a police station.

Changsun Yao pulled out her phone, scanned a code, and ordered two coffees. She smiled lightly. “You’re afraid I’ll harm you, so you picked a spot right outside a police station?”

“Sorry.”

Li Cheng took a deep breath, said nothing further, and pulled a wrapped blood amber from his pocket, placing it gently on the table. “How much is this worth?”

“Lord of Insects’ divine corruption fragment.”

Changsun Yao narrowed her eyes, leaned back, and waved her hand. “Put it away. Exposing this to air carries risk.”

She paused, then said seriously, “Any trade involving divine corruption fragments within the Special Affairs Bureau’s jurisdiction is a serious crime. If you turn it in to them, you’ll likely get fifty thousand cash and a banner of honor. But if you sell it to other guilds or organizations, the price is negotiable.”

“I have more divine corruption fragments.”

Li Cheng tucked the blood amber away, voice hoarse. “I want to use them as payment to solve my problem.”

“What problem?”

“I’m infected by the Lord of Insects,” Li Cheng said plainly. “I’ve already gone through roughly four cycles of [Gene Hunger].”

“Cough—”

Changsun Yao nearly choked on her coffee. She stared at Li Cheng, confirmed he wasn’t joking, then frowned tightly. “Mind if I probe with spiritual awareness?”

Spiritual awareness probing was the most common detection skill among players.

But for unfamiliar players, using it without permission was tantamount to provocation—easily sparking a fight.

Li Cheng shook his head and let Changsun Yao extend her palm, hovering it above his dorsal hand.

A sensation of being watched spread from his hand, surging toward his heart. He suppressed the urge to pull back, forcing his expression to remain still.

After a moment, Changsun Yao withdrew her hand, frowning seriously. “You’re not a Chosen One.”

Li Cheng nodded. He had never claimed to be one—so it wasn’t a lie.

Changsun Yao didn’t dwell on it. She continued: “When were you infected?”

“Half a month ago.” Seeing her fall silent, he asked, “Is there a problem?”

“You know how the outside world views Lord of Insects infection, right?”

“Yes. No cure.” Li Cheng recalled the Special Affairs Bureau agents shooting the infected that day, voice hoarse. “According to game forums, the Killing Ground holds infinite possibilities. If the Special Affairs Bureau can’t solve it, maybe others can.”

“You’re right. The issue is the cost.”

Changsun Yao’s face was expressionless. “To the concept of ‘human,’ Lord of Insects infection is like smashing a porcelain vase, mixing the shards with random debris, then re-firing them into a stronger container.”

During this process, the infected gain greater power—but [Gene Hunger] grows stronger and more frequent until their genome collapses entirely, turning them into mindless monsters.

Most ordinary people mutate into monsters during the first stage of infection.

A few endure until the third or fourth Gene Hunger cycle before losing sanity.

The rarest cases held out until the sixth cycle before breaking.

She paused, then said calmly, “The top-tier player organizations possess methods to perfectly resolve divine corruption infection—but the cost is too high. They won’t offer it to non-core members.”

Li Cheng murmured, “I still have more divine corruption fragments.”

“Useless. Their value isn’t on the same scale.”

Changsun Yao cut in firmly. “Repair is always harder than destruction. Imagine: firing a kiln of porcelain with modern techniques is easy. But perfectly restoring a shattered porcelain vase at the atomic level, matching its original strength—that difficulty increases by orders of magnitude.”

Unless you have someone powerful in your family,

if you go to the Special Affairs Bureau now and turn yourself in, they’ll almost certainly put you through the [Euthanasia Project].”

“Euthanasia Project?”

“Terminal care,” Changsun Yao said calmly. “Within a one-million-yuan budget, you’ll eat, drink, and enjoy a happy week or two. Then they’ll euthanize you and recycle your corpse.”

“That’s the standard procedure for self-surrendering, untreatable high-risk targets.”

Li Cheng fell silent for a long time, then said, “I can work for them.”

“It’s already the fourth year since the Killing Ground opened. The Special Affairs Bureau doesn’t lack enforcers—or rather, they don’t lack enforcers who aren’t top-tier combatants.”

Changsun Yao asked, “Even if they recruit you, you’ll eventually, involuntarily, transform into a monster. You’ll instinctively destroy and spread infection. You’ll become an extremely dangerous time bomb.”

“.”

Li Cheng sank into prolonged silence, then slowly raised his head and asked seriously, “How long can I remain human?”

“At best, maybe a month.”

Changsun Yao set down her coffee. “Of course, all this is just my opinion. If you don’t believe me, I can take you to places like Prometheus Lab for free. Ask them what they think.”

(End of Chapter)