After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Humans Are Truly Skilled at Creating Their Own Disasters, and Then Self-Destructing.

No wonder the parasite referred to the fungal monster as nourishment.

She endured a great deal of trouble, only to prepare a wedding dress for it. The more foreign bodies it consumed, the stronger it became. Not even the inhibitor could curb its violence.

Cheng Ming cupped her hands for a splash of water to wash her face, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves, and pulling her thoughts out of the messy tangle to try and review tonight’s encounter.

Good news: the enemy was weak, so she solved it without much difficulty. Bad news: it was only a conidium (asexual spore body), which likely had some unknown connection to the main body.

That thing was absolutely not in the underground storage room before.

Was it an accident or intentional malice?

Revenge? But even the Security Department was alarmed, and the opponent was struggling to survive, so how could it have the leisure to seek revenge on her?

Or, was it deliberately introduced by someone… Could the Security Department, after capturing it, be using it to find her, the hidden danger?

At this thought, Cheng Ming’s heart plummeted.

…

At 1:23 AM, the same time Cheng Ming encountered the conidium, in an underground experimental base several kilometers away.

Drip, drip, a red light flashed, and the intelligent system sounded an alarm.

“Huh? One ‘seed’ has reacted.” The experimenter murmured, surprised.

She swiped her stylus, opening another interface. The mission list retracted, and an intricate network of lines spread out.

It was a map encompassing all the building coordinates of the city’s Defense Center, perfectly aligned with the real-time hyphal distribution in the experimental area.

The survival status of the spores could be fed back to the corresponding part of the main body, instantly locating the site of the incident.

“Which one?” Better to be early than on time. Everyone’s interest was piqued.

Qu Ying also looked up at the screen, slightly shifting her stance.

Then, in the instant the data was updated and covered, the expected coordinates did not appear. The electronic flow on the interactive glass screen seemed to stutter for a second. Then, all the red dots on the screen flashed simultaneously—

Like a thriving tree suddenly withering, the reproductive hyphae at multiple sites shriveled simultaneously.

Caught completely off guard.

The red warning light flickered on and off, covering the entire transparent wall. The vast space fell into a brief dead silence.

Three seconds later, the experimenter broke the silence, shaking her head as she regretfully stated the facts: “All spore bodies are dead.”

“Simultaneously attacked?”

If that were the case, the problem would be enormous. Every face was filled with incredulity.

The experimenter lowered her head to check for abnormal data. Some people had already taken missions and left, so not many remained. At this moment, the little girl walked over, placed her hand against the glass, and said:

“I don’t think so.”

Qu Ying heard this and quirked an eyebrow, looking over with interest. “Little Yang Mei, what’s your insight?”

The abilities of those present varied. The little girl named “Yang Mei” was the only “communicator” among them—

“It’s in a terrible mood; it’s not willing to cooperate,” she said in a clear, childish voice, looking up at the “fungal tree” that was many times taller than her, separated by the glass.

Her ability was ultrasound, which acted directly on the nervous system—a perfect means of cross-species communication. Although fungi lack a nervous network, it had previously been discovered that they can transmit electrical signals, similar to human neuronal signals.

Only intelligent creatures need to communicate.

Everything confirmed that MF204 had indeed developed advanced intelligence.

It refused imprisonment, refused to be used as a tool, and refused all forms of cooperation—

Looking at the data presented, the experimenter’s stylus slowed down.

Finally, she put away her pen and notepad, sighing with resignation, like a mother who failed to correct her wayward child:

“Prepare for the fusion experiment.”

…

The message she sent sank like a stone in the sea.

Cheng Ming had intended to ask Qu Ying if she could disclose any information, but after waiting and waiting for a reply, in the anxiety of possibly encountering a sudden ambush or screening at any moment, she didn’t sleep well all night.

Being a thief for a thousand days is not hard, but defending against a thief for a thousand days can drive a person insane.

Waking up early with a groggy head, she had to force herself to see that no news was good news.

If there were a true emergency, Qu Ying would surely contact her proactively.

The inhibitor seemed to have slowed the fusion process; this time, she didn’t feel much discomfort—aside from the fatigue caused by staying up late. After two cups of coffee, she could even go to work as usual.

Her main job now, besides daily observation and recording of the algae-fungus growth, was still to assist Jiang Dexin with some experiments.

However, the tasks the other party was assigning her were clearly more advanced than before, cultivating her like a successor and gradually delegating small projects that could be completed independently.

After two hours in the cultivation room, Cheng Ming still couldn’t hold on. She walked into the rest room and collapsed onto the reclining chair. Just before falling asleep, she subconsciously told Xiao Ming, “Call me if anything happens…” and then corrected herself, “Never mind, you need to sleep too.”

She didn’t know how the parasite reacted.

The next time she was conscious, she was jolted awake by a to-do list reminder on her bracelet.

People really need rest when they are tired. Opening her eyes after the nap, Cheng Ming felt completely refreshed. She glanced at her “hair” again—it wasn’t an illusion; it was significantly denser. Without time to ask further, she first tapped on the new message.

This glance made Cheng Ming instantly stand up.

It was an application for the purchase of Wave-Born Floating Flower Algae-Fungus.

The information source field was blank.

She rushed into the adjacent system operation room, repeatedly tracing the source, but couldn’t find the corresponding department number. So, she called Jiang Dexin.

The voice on the receiver was as patient and gentle as ever.

The latter indicated it was nothing unusual: “It’s fine. Just leave it blank. You can proceed normally step-by-step as the system prompts.”

The cultivation room was fully automated. Even subculturing required little manual labor, so there was naturally no chance for her to make more contact.

Although it was a bit disappointing, it was expected.

The Defense Center’s control over the Wave-Born Floating Flower Algae-Fungus was extremely strict, evident from the fact that even which research team was responsible for it and on which floor it was stored were completely classified.

A counter-intuitive point was that all the materials Cheng Ming could find indicated that thirty years ago, the emergence of this very fungus broke the deadlock people faced in the face of the mutable environment. After decades of propagation and advancement, it had virtually become a model organism for various coastal institutions and laboratories to study pollution and explore mutation patterns.

Her confusion didn’t last long.

Subsequently, when Jiang Dexin assigned her to assist in extracting marine microorganisms, she learned another not-so-secret secret—the third stage of marine pollution was approaching. Due to water hypoxia, marine stability had sharply declined, increasing the frequency of mutated creatures coming ashore. More monsters were landing and loitering in the coastal restricted zone, even damaging the protective walls. Casualties were frequent.

The cause of all this was this algae-fungus.

The savior had become the index of the new disaster.

This was why the institute was accustomed to missing persons.

This was likely also why the Security Department hadn’t invested too much effort in her, a potential threat.

Cheng Ming tentatively asked why.

Jiang Dexin’s demeanor was starkly different between her personal life and work. Normally easygoing and kind, she was always meticulous and solemn in the lab.

But upon hearing this question, she uncharacteristically stopped her work, turned her head to look at her, the reflection on her glasses obscuring the deep-seated look in her eyes.

She sighed: “Where do you think all the experimental waste from all those years went?”

Her gentle yet heavy voice struck like a prism, light yet sharply piercing Cheng Ming’s heart.

Cheng Ming fell silent.

The answer was self-evident—poured into the ocean.

Humans are truly skilled at creating their own disasters, and then self-destructing.

“Do we really not need to verify the other party’s identity?”

Under such a major premise, looking at this procurement application that lacked any explicit information, Cheng Ming was genuinely confused.

Were they not worried about unauthorized persons stealing materials? Or a department employee accidentally submitting an application? Or had a monster evolved to skillfully use hacker skills?

She presented a series of wildly speculative concerns driven by her sense of peril.

Jiang Dexin then refuted them one by one, without showing any impatience.

Finally, Jiang Dexin said, “Why don’t you trust your boss?”

Cheng Ming: “…”

Fine, you’re the boss, you call the shots.

Wonderful. Another day of sparring with my revered mentor.

But her thoughts might have been too transparent.

So much so that even a certain fish-fungus heard it after she hung up and sincerely asked, “Why couldn’t you just say you wanted to know the source of the information?”

She was already annoyed about failing to extract useful intelligence from Jiang Dexin.

Cheng Ming scoffed, “Why can’t you just say you wanted to call me a hypocrite?”

Ten o’clock at night.

The entire institute area had its searchlights dimmed several degrees for energy conservation, yet the automatic induction lighting on the North Building’s 113th floor suddenly illuminated.

Cheng Ming hadn’t left yet.

Presumably, no one in this building was as proactive about working late as she was.

She timed her movements, stepped into the manual operation room, and exited the laboratory’s sterilization status.

Having not received a reply from Qu Ying all day, Cheng Ming wanted to convince herself not to worry, but with little success. For her now, the institute had ironically become the place that gave her the most peace of mind. To avoid being ambushed outside, she might as well find something to do for herself.

For example, finding out which department, which divinity in the institute, was so mysterious and had such high authority.

The first airtight door opened. Cheng Ming entered the buffer zone, changed her clothes, then the second door unlocked. She crossed the dim corridor and entered the core area.

Xiao Ming said, “I learned a new idiom today—asking for trouble.”

Normally, Cheng Ming wouldn’t bother with its sarcasm.

But the hallway was too quiet, and besides, she needed its help later… she defended herself stubbornly: “Just for a look.”

When she entered during the day, the protective gear seemed to be only the most basic Level 1. Now, it was almost at the standard of a Biosafety Level 3 Laboratory. The walls changed, the hidden Level 2 protective barrier was activated, the independent supply and exhaust ventilation system was running, the room was disinfected, and the negative pressure was nearly 60pa. She could feel her breathing being affected, experiencing a slight intracranial hypoxia.

Cheng Ming stood in the center of the cultivation room and took off her protective suit.

The security for the algae-fungus transport was extremely tight; even the specific transmission time was system-generated randomly. But even if it could confuse external observers, it couldn’t deceive her, the internal “self-thief.”

The equipment on both sides emitted a buzzing noise. The robotic arm automatically picked up the container she had verified during the day and sent it into the pipeline.

The pipeline network hidden behind the concrete and steel was intricate. Normally, no one could know the true destination of the algae-fungus.

But “they” were anything but normal.

Her hair writhed and grew outward like a living thing. The room was kept sterile, with corresponding clearing devices, but also ventilation ducts.

Cheng Ming cut the power, and the hyphae immediately penetrated every gap, exploring the terrain.

After consuming one conidium fungus, the area it could cover had significantly increased.

The cultivation room was completely sealed. To ensure cleanliness, the transmission channel and the supply/exhaust ventilation system ran parallel. This was the only path connecting the inside and outside.

“How is it?” Cheng Ming asked.

The hyphae had stretched to their limit. Fortunately, Xiao Ming finally gave feedback: “Feasible.”

It had mapped the internal structure, eliminating the risk for Cheng Ming in advance.

“Where was it sent?”

“I am unclear of your institute’s structure,” it subtly chastised her for her wild assumptions in a tone devoid of emotion.

Fine.

Cheng Ming ran her hand along the wall to familiarize herself with the texture, closed her eyes, and followed the direction of the hyphal spread, slipping into the narrow, deep darkness like a cave fish exploring its territory, and vanished.

…

10:37 PM, directly beneath the North Building, Basement Level One Experimental Material Transfer Depot.

Most of the lights had been dimmed. The cargo elevators were shut down. One by one, the human-height transfer well loading docks were gated and locked. Only a few scattered staff members were still busy moving items.

In the shadow of a corner load-bearing pillar, two figures, one tall and one small, had been standing for a long time. Although they were both wearing integrated dark blue work suits and cotton safety helmets, successfully blending in with the passing personnel, bringing a little girl to such a place still looked conspicuously out of place. Yet, for all this time, not a single person passing by noticed them.

“So, why does it require two people for escort?” Little Yang Mei was not chewing gum this time.

She was sucking on a lollipop, glancing at the woman who towered over her, her face full of incomprehension. “And why do we have to do it? Is the Biological Research Institute short on a transport chain?”

“That’s because—” Hearing this, the woman’s thin lips curled slightly. She tilted her head and looked down, the sharpness hidden beneath the brim of her helmet. “It’s bait.”