Chapter 183: Not Full
Chapter 183: Not Full
The lily branch is on the verge of death, withering from dehydration and starvation. Now, it desperately needs nourishment.
Without hesitation, Anran bends down and thrusts the lily stem into the back of the zombie’s hand, just like a farmer planting rice.
Then, something miraculous happens.
The withered lily branch suddenly swells with life. Its brittle roots, weakened from lack of water, seem to drink in vitality. The stem stretches upward, growing rapidly.
In moments, the zombie hand gripping Anran’s ankle is completely drained, leaving behind nothing but bare bones.
Yet, the lily—now as tall as Anran’s thigh—still cries out, [More.]
Leaning against the door, Anran freezes for a moment, Doll’s cries ringing in her ears. Then, snapping back to her senses, she kicks away the skeletal remains of the zombie’s hand. Reaching down, she forcefully snaps off a thin offshoot from the newly grown lily branch and drives it into another zombie’s hand.
As expected, the newly transplanted lily repeats the same bizarre transformation. Within seconds, the zombie’s palm shrivels away, leaving behind only skeletal remains.
Just then, the door shudders violently. A zombie outside manages to claw through, tearing a gash across Anran’s cheek as its rotting hand stretches into the room, grasping blindly for her. The arm is long and covered in dried, decayed flesh.
Anran quickly snaps off another lily branch and stabs it into the invading zombie’s arm. She watches as the lily hungrily devours the flesh, consuming the zombie’s elbow in mere moments. The wrist and palm, now severed from its body, drop limply inside the room, as if the nerves have been completely severed.
A flower bulb blooms where the zombie’s arm once was. Beneath it, thin roots sprout at an alarming rate. They writhe and twist, moving like an octopus’s tentacles as they search for more flesh to absorb.
And absorb, they do.
The lifeless zombie arm on the shattered doorframe shrivels away until only the skeletal hand remains. Even the stark-white bones aren’t left untouched—thin, wriggling roots, resembling parasitic tapeworms, cling to them.
Anran exhales, finally tasting the relief of escaping death. But as she raises her hand to wipe the sweat from her face, she notices the thin roots reaching toward her palm, floating in the air like strands of white silk. They sway gently, drawn toward her as if attracted to something.
Only then does she realize—she has been unconsciously releasing her own energy.
Before she can process this, the door above her head splinters further. A zombie’s head lunges through the gap, gnashing its rotting teeth.
Instinct takes over.
Anran wills the floating white roots toward the zombie’s face.
The result is predictable.
The flower bulb that has formed on the zombie’s arm has absorbed so much nourishment that it begins to split. One flower bulb becomes two. The roots thicken, intertwining like veins, multiplying rapidly.
Moments later, new flower branches sprout through the gap in the door. Diamond-shaped buds emerge, unfurling into delicate petals.
At the same time, beneath the door, the two lilies Anran planted earlier also blossom. Their white petals are large, their stamens thick. Under the influence of Anran’s ability, the petals curl inward, then unfurl again, as if breathing.
But the door is still breaking apart. The zombies outside aren’t giving up.
And Anran knows—she has only bought herself a little more time.