Chapter 00020: Bug (Thanks to Tang Sumu for the Alliance Leader)
# Bug (Thanks to Tang Sumu for the Alliance Leader)
Chapter 20
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 20: Bug (Thanks to Tang Sumu for the Alliance Leader)
In the collapsed factory, smoke and dust swirled chaotically.
Amidst the siege of dozens of undead ghouls, Wenwen appeared unfazed, as if strolling through a serene garden.
With a casual wave of her hand, she impaled the blocking creatures on the sharp, crystalline branches that erupted from the ground.
As she faced the voice on the phone, it continued to speak, unwavering, as if eternally patient, ready to answer every question and accusation from the ailing patients.
After all, the consultation fee was a staggering 160,000 federal coins per minute, with nary a discount for even a second.
The caller was from the “Hope Hospital's Laboratory Department.”
“Regarding the sample you submitted yesterday, labeled R54447, from patient Zhu Hong, the analysis report has been completed,” the doctor named Muller said slowly. “We regret to inform you that this is not the standard sample for the previous instances of Blood Thirst Disease, but rather a new strain that has evolved and mutated from it.”
Wenwen asked, “What does that mean?”
“Well, to put it simply, this strain is an upgraded version that is stronger than the original!” Muller explained. “As you know, the original version of Blood Thirst Disease came from the Central Plains, stemming from a plague unleashed by a ritual king’s uncontrolled mutation. I won't elaborate on the specific symptoms here, but the end result is that the host is completely transformed into a β-type ghoul. The strain you provided is entirely distinct. Its effect on the host is merely superficial; it acts more like a tool modification. The blood, life force, and even spiritual essence consumed by the host will ultimately belong to the strain itself. It’s like a parasite—the focus is not on the host but on the strain. In the end, even the host itself could be thoroughly drained, leaving only the strain, which can then be harvested by its controllers. If used properly, gathering vast amounts of life force and spiritual essence in just a few days wouldn’t be difficult at all.”
At this point, Muller couldn’t help but marvel, “As a tool, this strain is impressively convenient and cost-effective—a terrific expense-to-value ratio!”
“Wait a moment—”
From the caller's tone, Wenwen sensed something amiss.
Clenching her teeth, she asked, “How do you know so much? Are you lot in contact with those abominable creatures as well?”
“Of course, this is our institute's proprietary knowledge! It was developed forty-one years ago by Director Yan from the Infectious Disease Department, a classic variant!”
Muller replied proudly, “Though constrained by the T5 protocol, preventing large-scale public application, any collaborators who have purchased the relevant technology have all praised our institute’s level of expertise!”
“You bastard—”
Wenwen nearly crushed her phone in fury.
Even though she understood that for these mad researchers at Hope Hospital, morals and ethics were less useful than a piece of old cloth, she couldn't suppress her urge to lash out.
How could she have not chosen that computer-based matrix that could fight back?
Otherwise, would she have to endure all this nonsense?!
“But fret not, our hospital currently does not have the qualifications or permissions for external consultations, so we naturally won’t interfere with sovereign territories outside the hospital. According to our cooperation agreement with the Federal Security Bureau, in the event of a terror attack, we will definitely cooperate fully,” Muller assured quickly. “According to our institute’s regulations, all results and products rated C1 and above are strictly prohibited from being shared with non-collaborators, and all contacts will leave records at the visitor reception center. As per the record, there are currently forty-one individuals who possess and understand how to utilize this strain. Among them, the only one related to the Dragon Sacrificial Association is Andreas Lawrence, a former emergency department assistant who was expelled from our institute sixteen years ago due to academic misconduct.”
“Or perhaps you know him better by his other name…” Muller revealed with a smirk, “Bug.”
He was a wanted criminal on both federal and imperial wanted lists, an escapee from the Northern Mountain Prison, and the former cultist who had orchestrated the Night of Flowers and Moon tragedy in the empire.
One of the sixteen pastors of the Dragon Sacrificial Association, a twisted bug.
“If it’s him, you need to be careful,” Muller warned in closing. “That guy loves stirring up chaos whenever he acts…”
Wenwen fell silent.
She turned to gaze from the mountainside, staring into the distant north.
There, tiny crimson lights slowly rose, glowing in the air.
That was the distorted spiritual essence, undetectable to the naked eye of ordinary people, surging upward like a tangible force, bursting in explosive brilliance.
Streams of crimson intertwined, gathering like a colossal tree woven of blood vessels.
From the sharp laughter, an alluring dance unfolded.
Ten minutes earlier, at Jici Hospital’s inpatient building.
“Round the rounds!”
An anxious nurse led the way, knocking on doors, her voice clamoring as the chief physician did the rounds: “Everyone, please tidy up! No instant noodles on the beds, ma’am, put away your underwear, you can’t hang that outside!”
With that, she yanked away a massive, comically oversized pair of underpants and threw them back to their owner.
Ji Jue nearby was dumbfounded; having entered and exited so many times, he thought they were just an old man's tank top!
Then, he saw the old lady, unperturbed, putting them back on display!
Ji Jue couldn’t help but give a thumbs up.
Truly resilient!
“Uncle, if it hurts, just take some painkillers. You’ve got rheumatism, and gout as well. Surgery would only treat the symptoms. Drink less, stick to lighter meals,” she advised.
“There are signs of inflammation in the wound. I need to communicate with the family to prevent pus formation—changing the dressing is essential. A few extra coins spent are better than amputation, so let’s ensure the information is communicated clearly.”
“It’s nearly healed, and you will be discharged soon.”
As the murmurs floated around, a doctor leaning on a cane approached the door, his leg still in a brace.
In the oppressive heat, a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, yet his expression remained perpetually warm and gentle.
After checking on the elderly man and woman, he finally turned to look at Ji Jue.
After a brief glance through the documents at the bed, he pressed on the bruises on Ji Jue’s skin and the healing burn marks on his back, satisfied as he nodded, “Recovery is going well, and you’re lucky—no acute renal failure or nerve damage. Just observe for a few more days and adjust your endocrine and hormones.”
“Just take your medicine on time,” he waved.
A nurse came to hand Ji Jue a standard paper bag.
“Huh?” Ji Jue was taken aback, looking down at the bag in his hands. “I didn’t receive this medication this morning.”
“MeCobalamin, it nourishes the nerves, supplementing Vitamin B,” the doctor said, adjusting his glasses with a smile. “It promotes nerve healing.”
Inside the tilted paper bag, two pills no larger than half a pinky nail rolled into Ji Jue's palm, dark red in color and smelling uncommonly medicinal, bitter to taste.
“I’m a bit scared of bitter things,” Ji Jue hesitated. “Do I need to take it now?”
The nurse handed him a cup of warm water, encouraging him, “You’ll have another dose tonight, taking them on time will help you heal faster.”
Ji Jue fell silent.
Staring at the palm of his hand, the two pills, slightly sticky from sweat, glowed faintly red.
Meanwhile, a series of notifications popped up on his wristwatch.
[Detected external active distortion spiritual essence.
Warning: large active distortion source detected.
Mutation risk is rising.
Warning: unknown distortion entity detected.
Warning, warning, warning, warning…]
Warnings, warnings, they were nonstop all day long.
Why don’t you help me call the police?!
Ji Jue sighed, about to speak, when he suddenly turned to the door, frozen in place.
“Brother Feng? When did you arrive?”
But unfortunately, there was no Brother Feng.
The doctor and nurse turned to look, and at the door, apart from the air and a billowing pair of oversized underpants, there was nothing.
Bad news; this time, there were no miraculous saviors.
Good news; I have a savior!
Ji Jue’s other hand had already drawn a gun from under his pillow, aiming it at the medical head without a moment’s thought.
He clicked off the safety and with speed and strength he thought he would never possess again, he pulled the trigger.
A thunderous sound erupted in an instant, a flurry of bullets sprang forth, raging flames spitting forth, brief yet resonant, but echoed loudly in the room.
In less than a second, Ji Jue’s fingers seemed to be numb, but he had no time to worry about that.
At the moment he fired, he leaped off the hospital bed, crashing through the window from the fourth floor, plummeting down.
Four floors, twelve meters, right below him was a shed for electric scooters.
If luck was on his side, he wouldn’t die on the spot.
As long as he survived, he could lay low on one of those scooters and make his escape.
If things spiraled out of control a bit, they would need to tread carefully in this situation…
What was it that they had to be careful about?
In the face of the rushing wind, Ji Jue’s mind went blank, forgetting all else.
Because he was falling, everything was abruptly cut short!
Ji Jue dangled in mid-air, clenching the red-hot barrel of his gun, struggling helplessly, unable to escape from the bizarre tendril now wrapped around his ankle.
Then, another tendril shot out through the window, ensnaring his right leg.
Then came his hands.
It didn’t even bother to take away that empty-gunned firearm that merely made clicking sounds.
Gently, slowly, carefully, it pulled him back into the hospital room.
He was placed back in bed.
In the suffocating silence, it felt like even the sound of breathing had vanished, only dulled eyes from the patients and nurses nearby stared blankly at him.
Like wandering spirits, forever lost.
And right in front of him, the doctor’s face, skull, neck, and chest still bore the remnants of the bullet hole, blood oozing slowly from the gaping wound.
Through the opening, Ji Jue could vaguely see twisted tendrils writhing inside, slowly crawling out of the facial cracks, dancing with a life of their own.
“Did I get discovered? How strange.”
That malformed yet still smiling face slowly lifted, letting out a raspy voice that felt straight out of a nightmare, filled with admiration: “As expected, the chosen one, after ten years of affliction, can still awaken independently! Your insight and instincts are truly eye-opening. No… even more astounding is the determination to point a gun at a stranger after realizing something is wrong.”
“I’ll f*cking curse you!” Ji Jue struggled futilely, ultimately being bound tight by restraints.
An unresponsive nurse, resembling a zombie, stepped forward and injected him in the neck.
Then, everything faded to black.
In the last moments, the phone under the blanket lit up, the message interface popping up, sending one final plea to Wenwen from the contacts.
—Save me, save me, save me, save me, save me!
(End of chapter)