Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Associate Professor Palmer wandered aimlessly through the woods, having been thoroughly lost for three minutes. Initially, a member of the guard squad, a valiant woman trained in firearms, was with him, protecting him as she shot down the approaching contaminants.

But their luck didn't last long. An ugly mutant suddenly dropped from above, blocking their path. This mutant, resembling a giant tumor yet agile, managed to smack the woman's leg, causing her to scream and fall to the ground.

Palmer turned around in panic at the sound, only to see the female squad member struggling to prop herself up with her arms, her assault rifle nowhere in sight, her other hand reaching out to Palmer for help, trying to rise from the mud.

But the professor had no intention of helping her, not even hesitating. His eyes lit up with ecstasy, realizing that the mutant wouldn't attack again while feeding. At least while the tumor-like mutant was devouring the female squad member, he was safe.

Palmer left the woman's screams far behind, quickly disappearing behind the branches.

He thought the others would catch up soon, but after a long time, Palmer didn't encounter a third person. Yet, he didn't dare to go back, wandering hesitantly and fearfully in the dim woods.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he suddenly heard a series of footsteps, distinct and not chaotic, just slow and unsure, likely a human lacking a sense of security. Palmer cautiously peeked out, coming face to face with a familiar visage.

"Adam... oh, no," Palmer squinted suspiciously, "Wu Xiaohu?"

Wu Xiaohu also squinted, but because it was too dark in the woods to see clearly. After a moment, he emotionlessly pronounced the other's name: "...Palmer."

Palmer nodded unhappily: "Where are the others?"

"Behind," said Wu Xiaohu.

Reassured by the affirmative response, Palmer stood face to face with Wu Xiaohu for a while, looking at his young and naive face. A surge of malicious satisfaction rose in Palmer's chest, probably because his teammates were just behind, allowing him some leisure to regain face for the night's disturbances: "Eh? I've slept with you so many times, and I didn't even know your name was Wu Xiaohu? So, what's 'Adam' supposed to be?"

Wu Xiaohu looked puzzled at him, just as Palmer scoffed coldly: "A stage name from when you sold yourself?"

“……”

"Pretending, are we?" Palmer jabbed Wu Xiaohu's shoulder with his finger, pushing him back as he shouted angrily, "When you begged me to take you with me, you stripped and climbed into my bed willingly. How come you couldn't stand a touch last night? Did Captain Zhao's guy please you so much you lost your senses?"

“……”

No matter how many vulgar and offensive words he spewed, Wu Xiaohu remained silent. Palmer looked up carelessly, his mouth still full of crude remarks about hypocrisy, but the moment he met Wu Xiaohu's eyes, his voice suddenly caught.

Those were eyes filled with a chilling, indifferent darkness, seeping coldness into one's bones.

Palmer paused, a flicker of fear crossing his mind, but then he was overcome by an indescribable sense of embarrassment and shame. Was he actually intimidated by the gaze of a mere male prostitute?

He raised his hand in anger, but before his fist could land, a strange noise suddenly halted his action. Confused, Palmer turned to see what it was, but Wu Xiaohu reacted much faster, turning and running at the sound. Palmer, no longer daring to stay, ran off with his scalp tingling.

Still, he couldn't help but look back mid-run, and just that glimpse of the blood-covered, tumor-like mutant renewed his exhausted vigor, pushing him to run harder. Thankfully, the dense woods slowed the mutant's speed, and with Wu Xiaohu leading, turning left and right, they managed to lose the creature after about four to five minutes.

By then, both Wu Xiaohu and Palmer were at their physical limits, leaning against trees, gasping for air with hoarse, unpleasant sounds like broken bellows.

Palmer no longer had the energy to argue about the lower matters, sitting down breathlessly. After resting for a moment, Wu Xiaohu sensed something again, stepping back cautiously, ready to move.

But just then, someone clung to his left leg. Looking down, he saw Palmer wrapping his arms tightly around his calf, hysterically yelling, "I can't run anymore, not at all."

Wu Xiaohu, irritated, tried to shake off his leg.

But Palmer clung to him like a sloth, using all his strength. Without enough energy to break free, Wu Xiaohu was forced to waste time in a standoff. The sounds of the bamboo-jointed mutant crawling grew closer, and turning his head, Wu Xiaohu could already see the four slender, eerie limbs in the dimness.

"Get lost," he couldn't help but curse.

Suddenly, Palmer looked up, his face twisted into a sinister, spiteful smile, his gums showing through his cracked lips, "You said you'd do anything to come with me..."

Wu Xiaohu had a bad feeling, bending down to pry Palmer's hands off, but in the next second, he was abruptly grabbed by the leg, losing his balance and falling backward.

Palmer's voice turned shrill and thin with madness: "Then dying for me should be natural, right?!"

A slender, sharp hand instantly pierced through Wu Xiaohu's chest, blood spraying everywhere like a fountain. He wore an incredulous expression, his dilated pupils reflecting Palmer's grotesquely triumphant face.

The bamboo-jointed mutant withdrew its blade-sharp right hand, and Wu Xiaohu collapsed, convulsing twice, blood trailing from his eyes and mouth, motionless.

After a rustling of bodies against the foliage, chilling chewing sounds echoed through the woods.

Palmer, with a shiver of fear, supported himself against a tree, slowly standing up. His forehead was covered in sweat as he carefully moved away from the mutant, not daring to look at the horrific scene at his feet.

However, Palmer's peripheral vision uncontrollably caught a glimpse, making him retch against the tree trunk. The more anxious and nauseated he became, the more his lips uncontrollably curled up, feeling both the cowardice of murder and the thrill of having decisively escaped death.

But his grotesquely twisted smile froze halfway as he suddenly became statue-like, standing rigid behind the bamboo-jointed mutant, staring blankly ahead, motionless.

After about ten seconds, as if frozen time had flowed again, "Palmer" suddenly gasped for air, looking around before examining his hands, grasping them a few times, then lifting his foot, taking a slow step, stabilizing, then another...

"He" didn't quite like this body, with its flabby muscles, shortness of breath, and unhealthy organs, especially the kidneys. If not for the recent accident, "he" would have stayed in the younger, black-haired man's body... even though that man also had some issues.

Most importantly, "he" had racked his brain to come up with the name Wu Xiaohu for the man, which "he" quite liked and thought he would use for a long time.

Undergoing a second parasitism in a short period was very draining, and if another emergency occurred, "he" wouldn't have the strength for a third, so despite the disdain, "he" would try to protect Palmer's body.

The bamboo-jointed mutant continued to feed, Wu Xiaohu's face gnawed beyond recognition, his eyes wide open in death, quickly losing an eyeball to a bite. By now, "Palmer's" movements had become smooth and agile, and after a brief glance at Wu Xiaohu's face, he ran off without a trace of sentiment.

—The tumor-like mutant and a dozen contaminants were approaching this direction.

Palmer didn't understand why the mutant was specifically targeting him—were all the other scientists eaten, or was there another reason?

The early morning sun, warm with heat, pierced through the layered canopy, casting fragmented patches of light in the forest. The blonde researcher, sweating profusely, ran with increasingly clear vision, no longer stumbling into trees, but his energy was also depleting.

After tripping over a stone and crashing into a pile of leaves, Palmer's arms trembled, and his legs struggled weakly before he couldn't get up again.

Gathering some strength, he laboriously turned over, swallowing a mouthful of bloody saliva, his chest heaving wildly, his rough breathing echoing in the woods until interrupted by the sound of a massive chunk of flesh hitting the ground.

The face of the tumor-like mutant was squeezed into a tiny mass by the displaced tumors, with blood-tinged saliva gushing from within, splattering into the mud along with tattered, dirty strips of cloth. These strips might once have been stylish clothes, but now they were worse than rags, comically hanging on the flesh.

Palmer was not prepared to die without a fight. As the mutant excitedly reached for his head, he suddenly struck, piercing its palm with a sharp branch he had prepared, then took off running.

The tumor-like mutant, enraged, flailed its impaled hand around, resembling a watermelon with a toothpick stuck in it. Its furious roar echoed behind Palmer, its bulky form making pursuit sound like an earthquake, throwing stones and dust into the air. Palmer barely made two steps before the vibrations knocked him down again.

A massive shadow loomed over him instantly, a round arm raising in a foul-smelling gust, viciously aiming for Palmer's head.

At that moment, a warm, firm human arm suddenly wrapped around Palmer's shoulders from behind, its slender fingers gripping his nape to push him down, securely locking him in a protective embrace. The sound of collision and slicing filled the air above him, with warm, sticky liquid splashing on Palmer's face. He instinctively shut his eyes to dodge, then looked up to see a sharp, solid long knife positioned between him and the mutant, emanating a forbidding aura.

The blade, still dripping with the dark red blood of the contaminant, and the disgusting arm of the tumor were split in two, crashing onto the grass.