Chapter 42: The Ultimate Plot

Chapter 42: The Ultimate Plot

Beep! Critical plot point achieved.

Qi He rushed to a safe distance, stopped, then propped Yan Chuanbai upright again, observing him. "How do you feel?"

Yan Chuanbai composed himself for a moment. "Just like the first time."

Back when Qi He's superpower had first awakened, he had hoisted that tree in the very same way.

Qi He automatically latched onto "like the first time," taking it as a sign of Yan Chuanbai's recovery. He then turned to face the dense horde of zombies and tossed two upgraded nutrient packs to him. "Replenish yourself."

Yan Chuanbai caught them with a swift motion.

A gun—his preferred sidearm—was thrown to his side. "Use this for now."

"Alright." Yan Chuanbai grabbed it with one hand, twisted open the nutrient bottle with the other, while simultaneously pulling the trigger with his gun hand. Bang! Bang! Bang! Shots rang out toward the zombie horde.

All the replenished psychic energy was channeled into maintaining the ice sheet overhead.

Beside him, Qi He stared intently ahead.

With a raised hand, hordes of zombies were lifted high through the collapsed opening, then slammed down hard. Boom!!!

The shattered ice below acted like razor-sharp shards, piercing through the zombies' bodies and heads.

Amidst wave after wave of purging.

The system, still shaken from barely clearing the plot with just one second to spare, remained on edge:

"If it weren’t for that cigarette, what would you have done?"

Qi He remained unperturbed. "I would have mustered some badass heroics."

"..."

It sputtered in disbelief: "Do you have to be so abstract?!"

Snap! A mutated vine, under his control, swiped through a group of zombies.

Qi He said gently, "I could also slap something else."

...

The final wave of the mutation tide was finally cleared.

Qi He withdrew his hand, and Yan Chuanbai holstered his gun at his waist. "Let’s go, time to head back to the city."

The two walked through the newly built city gate.

Once inside, the full layout of the underground city came into view: it wasn’t much different from an ordinary city, with houses and roads distributed throughout, mostly three to five stories high.

Above, several sections of the ground had collapsed, the massive holes sealed by layers of ice. Wide shafts of daylight refracted through the translucent ice, illuminating the interior.

The city was filled with patrolling superpowered individuals.

After walking a short distance, the adjutant approached with his squad. Spotting Qi He, he exclaimed joyfully, "Mr. Qi!"

Then he turned to Yan Chuanbai. "Colonel, are you alright?"

"I’m fine." Yan Chuanbai’s expression was calm, showing no signs of exhaustion or strain, remaining composed in front of the military personnel.

The adjutant relaxed. "With this wave of attacks over, the other S-class supers from other directions should be returning soon."

Yan Chuanbai strode forward. "Let’s talk in the briefing room."

The briefing room was located in the central district of F City.

It served as a temporary meeting room and a place to replenish ammunition and nutrient packs.

Upon pushing the door open, they saw a young man sitting inside. He looked weary, as if worn down from days of fighting.

Qi He asked, "Who is this?"

"He’s from F City..." the adjutant corrected himself, "or rather, Base 3 now. This is Tang Ying, the only remaining S-class here." He then introduced Qi He to Tang Ying: "This is Mr. Qi He from Base 1, an ultra 4S-class combatant."

Tang Ying’s expression instantly shifted to one of astonishment.

As an S-class superpowered individual, he was already among the elite in F City. He never expected this rescue mission to bring so many 3S-class individuals—and even an ultra 3S-class from Base 1.

He thought ultra 3S-class was already extraordinary, but now there was an ultra 4S-class!

The world outside truly had whole other levels.

Qi He asked again, "Only one S-class?"

At this, Tang Ying’s shocked expression faded slightly, and he pressed his lips together. "There was another combat specialist, but he died holding the line during the initial outbreak of the zombie tide."

Qi He remained silent for a moment. "Sorry for your loss."

-

Just then, the briefing room door opened.

The other three S-class individuals had returned as well.

Accompanying them were the military personnel who had arrived on the same helicopter as Qi He, carrying a silver storage case.

Le Yunyu greeted Qi He, then turned to ask, "What’s this?"

Qi He looked at them for two seconds. "Antibodies."

The entire briefing room fell into a stunned silence!

"Antibodies? Base 1 has developed antibodies?"

The tank was dumbfounded. "Wait, is Base 1 just next-level advanced in every way?"

The others: "..."

Qi He opened the case. "This is the first batch. We rushed straight here as soon as we got them."

The antibodies were to be prioritized for frontline fighters.

He took them out of the case and distributed them to those present for injection. After distributing them, one dose remained. Qi He hesitated for a beat before pulling it out and handing it to Yan Chuanbai beside him.

Yan Chuanbai met his eyes and reached out.

The moment their hands touched, an alarm screamed in his head: "Warning! Host influence detected—"

Qi He yanked it back.

Everyone around was momentarily stunned. Qi He calmly put away the syringe and said to Yan Chuanbai, "You're all thumbs. I'll handle it for you when we get back."

Yan Chuanbai: "..."

Everyone present: "..."

The human shield’s hand trembled slightly, nearly missing the injection: "?"

Antibody distribution required real-name registration.

After several people received their antibody injections, they proceeded to register their information with the adjutant nearby. Just as Qi He closed the case, he heard the human shield report: "Headquarters, Zhu Gedun, administered Antibody Type I at 6:08 PM on September 18th."

Qi He turned his head. The other man had previously used a rock layer to shield his chest, so Qi He hadn’t known his name: "Your name is Zhu Gedun?"

Zhu Gedun looked over, surprised: "You didn't know?"

He paused, then sheepishly scratched his cheek. "I thought it was kind of friendly how you called me 'Dun' earlier..."

Qi He: "..."

Everyone: "..."

Yan Chuanbai shot him a cool, amused glance.

The system marveled: [So my "Crouching Dragon" is here!]

Qi He paused slightly, his gaze calm as still water: "So you haven't shed Pang Tong's identity yet."

Le Yunyu pulled his oblivious colleague aside: "Alright, let's all head back to the guardroom."

…

The guardroom was located near the four city gates.

It served as a rest area for the S-class Combat Department and was strategically positioned for constant vigilance. Qi He and Yan Chuanbai returned to the guardroom at the east gate.

Upon entering, there was a small living area outside, with a bedroom inside.

Qi He placed the case on the coffee table.

It landed with a clatter, drawing Yan Chuanbai's attention.

Sensing something, he didn’t mention the antibody injection, simply sitting down on the sofa. His gaze drifted from Qi He’s lowered brows and eyes to his clear cheek—

Recalling the moment the other had suddenly appeared before him, the surge of emotion stirred once more.

Yan Chuanbai gently suppressed his feelings and asked, "How is the base?"

Qi He set down the case and sat nearby. "Orderly and organized."

"What's the production cycle for the antibodies?"

"Large-scale propagation is underway, with each batch interval around half a month. Priority goes to the Combat Department, followed by batch distribution according to registration order."

Yan Chuanbai’s gaze fell to the table. "Hmm."

In the quiet atmosphere, just as he considered changing the subject, the person in front of him suddenly leaned in—

A hand touched his cheek, soft fingertips pressing against his sensitive earlobe. Qi He moved close, fingers brushing behind Yan Chuanbai’s ear. Yan Chuanbai’s heartbeat quickened, breath catching for a moment.

Suppressing his breath, he turned his head. "...What are you doing?"

But Qi He’s expression remained serious. "Don’t move."

Yan Chuanbai froze at those words, staying completely still.

"Yan Chuanbai." Qi He stared at the tiny, nearly invisible cut behind his ear. "Where did this wound come from?"

Yan Chuanbai was taken aback.

In the next moment, he grabbed Qi He’s wrist—forcefully pulling him away.

Qi He hadn’t expected such a reaction and was momentarily stunned. Yan Chuanbai stared straight at him:

"I have a wound behind my ear? Go disinfect, Qi He."

Qi He blanked for an uncharacteristic few seconds.

Shouldn’t a normal person first check their own condition?

He collected himself. "...Before I came, I already received the antibody injection on the helicopter."

Yan Chuanbai seemed to relax slightly, releasing his hand and pressing it against the skin behind his own earlobe. "The antibody’s effectiveness isn’t 100%," he emphasized again. "Go disinfect."

Qi He then stood and went to wash his hands at the sink, disinfecting them thoroughly.

Currently, the virus was only transmitted through blood; his touch posed little risk.

When he returned, he saw that Yan Chuanbai’s neck was covered in a thin layer of white frost—if there had been any viral contact, it would have already entered the body. The other man’s action wasn’t for freezing, but for isolation.

Qi He approached him. "When were you injured? No memory?"

Even after discovering the wound, Yan Chuanbai remained calm. He frowned, thinking carefully. "Haven’t been in contact with any mutants. The only possibility… was during the collapse when the zombie tide hit."

Flying shards of ice or debris must have grazed his skin. The mutants, rooted in the soil, had already contaminated the area.

Qi He’s eyes darkened. Collapse.

According to the original plot, the original host and Yan Chuanbai were both at the collapse point. Could it be that "he" should have been infected then?

Or later, when pushing someone, causing Yan Chuanbai to be grabbed.

But earlier, when he pulled Yan Chuanbai up and ran—clearly avoiding this crucial plot point—no punishment was triggered. This could only mean two possibilities:

The key event was still to come;

Or Yan Chuanbai had already been infected, and the outcome achieved another way.

Four words surfaced in Qi He’s mind: Irreversible.

Perhaps because he had been silent too long, Yan Chuanbai looked at him. "Just having a wound doesn’t necessarily mean infection."

Qi He met his gaze. "Tonight, I’ll keep watch over you."

Yan Chuanbai seemed to curve his lips slightly. "Alright."

There was also a sofa in the bedroom, positioned beside the bed, separated by a walkway just wide enough for one person.

Qi He stood before the sofa. "I’ll sleep here tonight."

Yan Chuanbai said, "It's just a scratch, it won't affect my sleep." Meaning he'd sleep here.

Qi He squinted slightly, "Are you looking down on me?"

Yan Chuanbai looked at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed, "Wouldn't dream of it."

The scene flashed in his mind again—Qi He dropping from the sky, his bright gaze fixed ahead, calm and confident, with the ability to turn the situation around in an instant.

No one was worthy of looking down on him.

Suddenly, Yan Chuanbai remembered the fingertip that had brushed past his lips. He pressed them together; his lips were dry. The pang in his chest rose but was quickly suppressed: If he was really infected...

His gaze darkened slightly as he took half a step back and said to Qi He, "Sleep."

Qi He turned and lay down on the sofa.

The bedside lamp turned off, and the room went dark.

In the dim light, Qi He suddenly felt a sense of familiarity—as if the scene had reversed from when he first arrived:

He was keeping watch on the sofa, while Yan Chuanbai was suspected of being infected.

A feeling akin to fate flickered briefly.

Then, Qi He closed his eyes.

-

In the quiet of the night, a low groan sounded.

Qi He’s eyes snapped open! He flipped over and sat up, turning on the bedside lamp: "Yan Chuanbai."

The soft yellow light fell over the bed.

A faint flush spread across Yan Chuanbai’s cold, handsome face. His eyes opened, locking directly on Qi He—clear and rational, yet filled with intense aggression. A fine sweat trickled down from his broken eyebrow and disappeared into his lashes.

His gaze seemed to devour Qi He, but when he spoke, his voice was hoarse: "Keep your distance."

Qi He didn’t move. "You have a fever."

Yan Chuanbai pushed himself up. "Yeah."

As they stared at each other, the system held its breath: "A fever could also mean it's progressing—"

The next moment, the voice in his mind fell silent.

Qi He looked at the back of Yan Chuanbai’s ear. Under the light, beneath the frost, bluish-purple patterns showed through, spreading like vines.

Yan Chuanbai seemed to sense it and reached up to touch the spot.

The room fell into silence for several seconds.

Then Yan Chuanbai leaned back against the headboard, lifted his eyes to Qi He, and smiled faintly: "Find me someplace with a good view."

Qi He, "?"

He met Yan Chuanbai’s gaze and asked softly, "...Are you already making your bucket list?"

Yan Chuanbai chuckled: "Didn’t you say that if I turned into a zombie, you’d string me up somewhere out of the way?"

"..."

Qi He recalled: There had indeed been such a conversation. Had Yan Chuanbai even remembered that?

Perhaps because they had mentally prepared for this, when the moment finally arrived, neither was shocked or panicked. After a long silence, Qi He seemed to ponder for a moment before speaking:

"I’ve decided to hear your wishes."

"If you become a conscious zombie, what would you want to do?"

Yan Chuanbai leaned against the headboard, a smirk tugging at his lips—the same roguish grin as always: "With my mental strength, I’d at least be a zombie king. Then I’d gather all my 'subjects' and take them all out at once."

Qi He looked at him calmly: He'd gotten his fourth "fragment."

After speaking, Yan Chuanbai said, "Stop watching over me. Go out."

Qi He paused for a moment, then turned and walked out.

From behind, a question suddenly came: "The antibody... I can’t use it, can I?"

Qi He stopped and turned back: "I’ll figure something out."

An unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them. Just as he was about to turn away, he heard Yan Chuanbai call out again: "Qi He." Yan Chuanbai looked at him, the bluish-purple tint already spreading across his cheeks, his expression full of aggression, yet his eyes held a rare tenderness, like a gentle nighttime sky.

"Everyone is important. You are important to me too."

Qi He felt his heart skip, his fingers curling slightly.

Then he nodded: "Of course. No need to say more."

Yan Chuanbai smiled faintly.

Qi He turned and pushed the door open.

As the door closed, a "click" sounded from behind—Yan Chuanbai had locked it himself with his ice power.

-

Qi He left the guardroom.

Outside, several patrol squads were making rounds. He glanced back, then leaped onto the roof of the guardroom and sat by the eaves right above the bedroom.

Above, pale moonlight filtered down through the collapsed opening.

After a long while, Qi He called out: "System."

The system had been silent since confirming Yan Chuanbai’s infection. Now, it responded with a muffled, emotionally thick voice: "...Yeah?"

"The plotline of this world is already clear."

First, the parasite lurked in Yan Chuanbai’s body. Since it wasn’t an infection, it didn't show up on tests in the early stages.

Then, the zombie virus entered Yan Chuanbai’s body and merged with the parasite, like the fusion of sperm and egg cells that ultimately produces the final outcome—

The plot's combination of events ensured that, through "parasitism," Yan Chuanbai would become a conscious zombie.

Qi He wasn’t sure what emotion drove his certainty as he stated: "Yan Chuanbai’s words were not a joke."

He would rally the zombies and lead the strongest force to clean them out.

But by the time he accomplished this, the antibody would long since be too late.

...

Qi He spoke: "System. The final arc was never meant to let Yan Chuanbai live."

The ending arranged for him by the plot was a tragic hero.

A labored, heavy breathing echoed in his mind—though it was just code, it felt as if a heartbeat was throbbing.

A while later.

"...Why?"

The system suddenly surged with anger.

The first time was when the warning program defined "Qi He's disappearance" as a trivial matter; the second time was now.

Its protagonist, whom it had watched come this far—why should he face such an ultimate plot?!

The code spiked erratically under intense fluctuations, the panel flickered, flashing red, almost reaching the edge of a high-level alert.

"Let's break away," Qi He suddenly said.

The system was stunned: "What?"

Qi He’s reasoning was sharp: if he forcibly altered the plot and injected Yan Chuanbai with the antibody, he would die first;

and even afterward, the narrative might self-correct, leaving him powerless to change the outcome.

Moreover, "If the prediction isn’t wrong, after the next plot point, I’ll be due to die as well."

Under the brilliant, clear night sky, a soft breeze whispered by.

But the system felt hit by a heavier blow.

It stayed silent.

Qi He looked up and suddenly smiled.

In his eyes were uninhibited daring and the madness of risking it all. It was breathtaking, mesmerizing:

"I’ll bet with you for freedom."

"If we lose, we all go offline; if we win, we live together."

The system was just code, yet at that moment, it stirred with emotion—

as if, after following Qi He all this way, watching him, Yan Chuanbai, and the human base evolve, it, too, had felt resentment and fury upon learning the ultimate plot.

There were under 24 hours left until the antibody injection time.

After a prolonged silence, the night itself fell silent.

Qi He heard a single word: "Okay."

"‘Born a system, I apologize.’"

"I choose betrayal."

Author's note:

System: Optimize! Optimize! Optimize it all!