After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 3
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Chapter 3: They mustn’t scare the dear little treasure.
Thirty years ago, nuclear contamination swept across the world’s oceans. Organisms became deformed, and monsters ran rampant. All coastal residents were organized and evacuated, forming a five-kilometer vacuum zone.
In the area between five and ten kilometers from the sea, comprehensive defense systems were established in various locations—these are the Binhai Defense Centers.
Underneath, two key departments were situated: the Biological Research Institute and the Logistics and Security Department (LSD). They were two sides of the same coin, mutually dependent.
The Research Institute, as the name suggests, focuses on studying the polluted marine organisms and seeking the ultimate solution. The LSD, however, despite sounding upright and harmless, was never a department that could be openly displayed.
As the enforcement arm behind the institute, its existence is legal and compliant, but given the current grim situation—the endless, constantly mutating, and increasingly intelligent marine monsters—the higher authorities granted it immense power and latitude.
When necessary, they can resort to any means.
In short, the Research Institute is responsible for breakthroughs in frontier technology and provides technical support to the LSD. The LSD is responsible for stability in the rear, including but not limited to biological prevention, riot suppression, hazard elimination, and cleanup following experimental leaks.
If the LSD judges a target must be eliminated, no one can save them, regardless of life or death.
Standing in the glass elevator of the tallest building ever recorded, as the height steadily increased, Cheng Ming looked out into the distance, clearly seeing the vast, endless ocean.
The water, bathed in sunlight, glittered with large expanses of gold. Just looking at it like this, there was no trace of pollution; the sea was still so gentle, so beautiful.
It was a very pleasant view.
But her mood was far from pleasant.
“Do you have confidence you can pass the screening?” Cheng Ming stared at the side wall of the elevator car, where the tempered glass vaguely reflected her own silhouette. “You’re stronger now, aren’t you?”
The surveillance camera was positioned above and behind, an angle that wouldn’t capture her facial profile.
Theoretically, if they could communicate through brainwave conduction, their exchanges would be much more discreet and convenient. But there was no way she would allow the other party free access to her nerves. That would be dangerously close to complete parasitism.
After experiencing a second of fear as her adrenaline spiked to its peak, and now with one foot figuratively in the grave, Cheng Ming actually calmed down.
She hadn’t found any life-monitoring device on Wang Qi the night before last. Only one day had passed since then; at most, it was a disappearance. It shouldn’t have immediately drawn the attention of the LSD.
Maybe it’s just a coincidence.
Maybe Wang Qi’s abnormality was already exposed to the LSD and she was under close surveillance. They noticed her disappearance and urgently organized this screening.
Or… if things were truly unfortunate, and Wang Qi had monster companions who successfully infiltrated the high ranks of the LSD, then this whole thing is aimed at her. If so, she must first pass the screening unscathed, ensuring they find no legal flaw to justifiably dispose of her.
The elevator remained quiet for a moment.
“What if I say no?”
Cheng Ming dropped her gaze, looking at the faint, lotus-shaped patterns visible on her fingernails—the blight left by the fungal parasitism. She said flatly, “Then I’ll just have to admit to the infection and obediently accept all the ‘treatment,’ won’t I?”
Ding—
The elevator door opened.
She silently exhaled, faced the glass, casually adjusted her collar, turned, and stepped out of the car.
This was a gamble. Life or death depended on the choices she and it made.
Cheng Ming didn’t wander, following the signs directly to Room 09902.
The conference room was empty. Chairs were neatly lined up on both sides, the central area vacant. There was no one inside.
For a surprise inspection, a slightly confidential meeting is the usual protocol to avoid causing panic and tipping off the target. But generally, upon opening the door, she should be greeted by fully armed security personnel and high-tech modern equipment.
Cheng Ming hesitantly looked up, confirmed she hadn’t entered the wrong room, pushed the door open, and closed it behind her.
Still no change.
Not even a voice prompt.
She took two steps forward, puzzled. Just then, a slight rustling sound reached her ear.
The texture was thick and wet, continuous, like many small, soft things slowly crawling on the tile walls.
For example, the tentacles of some kind of cephalopod.
The lights flickered and dimmed.
A massive shadow was cast, trailing an unsettling mark on the floor. She looked up, her pupils contracting—
On the light fixture, occupying half the ceiling, was a huge, coiled, writhing marine monster!
The hairs on Cheng Ming’s back stood on end. She retreated, pressing against the cold metal door, instinctively clutching the handle. As her mouth opened, just before a sound could escape, she suddenly came to her senses and realized what this scene resembled.
Was this a re-enactment of that night?
The monster, tangled with countless slimy tentacles, leaped nimbly from the ceiling light. In the flickering, horror-movie-like lighting, it lunged in front of her in the blink of an eye.
And her voice finally forced its way out of her throat, only a short scream.
“Ah!”
…
The Screening
…
Next door, in Room 09901.
In front of rows of real-time monitoring instruments.
“Any anomaly?” asked the man in the black suit, the person in charge of this operation, Kang Ming, leader of the Internal Investigation Team of the Reconnaissance Department.
“None.” This was the monitor observer.
“None.” This was the data analyst.
“…None.” The last to speak was a low, magnetic female voice.
She bit on a slender woman’s cigarette, only removing it to speak, flicking the ash between her fingers. She narrowed her eyes, watching the screen through a light haze of white smoke.
Qu Ying, codename “The Judge,” was referred to within the Reconnaissance Department as a Human Detector, Human PC, and Human Weapon.
“Why the focus on her? Just because she was supposed to participate in the promotion defense with Wang Qi?” she asked, holding the cigarette.
“Yes, they were supposed to have a defense yesterday, but Wang Qi disappeared, and Cheng Ming called in sick. They both live in North Apartment Unit 2, and Wang Qi completely vanished without a trace in just one night, and hasn’t appeared since today. If Wang Qi went to see her via the apartment’s internal ventilation shafts, it would indeed be hard for surveillance to catch. It’s difficult for us not to be suspicious,” Kang Ming explained in a deep voice.
Qu Ying was a seconded agent and didn’t belong to the Reconnaissance Department. Her true superior held a very high level of secrecy, certainly one he, as a team leader, wasn’t authorized to know.
Therefore, although Qu Ying nominally took his orders during this operation, he essentially had to prioritize her.
On the screen, the monster projection had lunged at Cheng Ming and then vanished, leaving behind the girl, still startled, looking around blankly and anxious because she couldn’t open the door behind her.
Under the high-precision camera equipment, her every movement and subtle change in expression were fully observed by the group.
She was currently pressed against the door frame, body trembling, her forehead hair messy, looking quite pitiful.
“Suspicion alone won’t secure a conviction.” Qu Ying casually stubbed out her cigarette and was the first to turn and leave. “Let’s go check the next one.”
She pulled the door open, simultaneously turning her head. A faint smile curved her lips, and she raised a sharp, slender eyebrow. “Find a girl to take her for sampling. We mustn’t scare Dr. Jiang’s dear little treasure.”
…
The Samples
“Hello, Teacher Cheng Ming, please cooperate with a physical examination.”
Leaving the stress-test conference room, Cheng Ming was vaguely led by a recorder. First, she passed through a laser scanner to obtain body data, then went to the lab for bl00d draws, skin cell, and hair samples.
Just like a pig on an assembly line.
A lab technician picked up surgical scissors, gesturing for her to provide a lock of hair.
Cheng Ming touched her head, then, under the astonished gaze of everyone present, pulled off her entire head of hair—
“A fungal infection in my skull required surgery a month ago.” She calmly displayed her exposed scalp, dangling the long hair in her other hand. “It’s a wig,” she said with a hint of embarrassment.
The room fell silent.
Ten seconds later, the lab technician opposite coughed and was forced to change the procedure: “Let’s sample the eyebrows then.”
Microscopic examination showed no obvious abnormalities. The samples were sent for further testing, and Cheng Ming proceeded to the next office.
The recorder was a baby-faced girl, likely young, with a very friendly appearance. And as a fellow woman, Cheng Ming’s emotional state was clearly being handled with care.
The girl had found a hat somewhere and thoughtfully covered Cheng Ming’s less sightly scalp before they left.
The office was scented with aromatherapy and served with black tea. The two sat on a sofa like friends. The recorder smiled apologetically and gently reassured her, “I’m sorry, Teacher Cheng. This happened so suddenly. It’s all just routine procedure, nothing personal against you.”
Cheng Ming nodded repeatedly, indicating it was fine, but her posture was stiff. After accepting the tea, her fingers gripped the cup, clearly still a bit shaken.
“Can I ask what exactly happened? Did… a mutated organism infiltrate the facility?”
The institute’s experiments are related to marine nuclear pollution, and opportunities to encounter monsters are not uncommon. But for researchers, those are merely experimental materials; facing direct danger is the LSD’s responsibility.
From this perspective, researchers truly were sheltered flowers.
“No, no, it’s not that serious,” the recorder immediately shook her head. She poured another cup of tea and, after a gentle reassurance, picked up her notepad. “I need to record and file our conversation. You don’t mind, do you?”
Since it was an mandatory procedure, Cheng Ming couldn’t object even if she wanted to. However, being asked so sincerely made her feel respected, which effectively lowered the interviewee’s guard.
This was clearly someone proficient in psychology… The LSD truly had all kinds of talents. Cheng Ming mused inwardly, tackling the interview with maximum alertness.
“You know Teacher Wang Qi, correct?” the recorder got to the point. “She may have been killed. We are currently investigating the cause.”
…
Half an hour later, the recorder finally closed her notebook and politely saw her out. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Because of the high mental concentration, the half-hour felt especially long.
Under the guidance of the interviewer, Cheng Ming carefully recalled all her movements from the end of work the day before yesterday until she clocked in today. Skillful questions were occasionally interspersed to verify the truthfulness of her answers. Cheng Ming dared not be careless in the slightest.
The first thing she did after stepping outside was check her phone—no new notifications.
A close call. For now, she had passed the test.
The tension that had gripped her all morning finally eased a little.
Compared to the deserted feel when she arrived, the hallway was now bustling with people. Other researchers were also being summoned sequentially. Not wanting to run into too many acquaintances, she chose an obscure route, taking a longer path to the panoramic elevator.
Just as she rounded a corner, a crisp sound of heels hitting the floor echoed from the end of the corridor—click-clack, click-clack—with a quick rhythm.
A young yet mature woman walked toward her.
A white shirt under a black vest, with waist-length hair casually draped over her shoulders. She wore patent leather ankle boots, presenting a strange fusion of competence and nonchalance.
The unique aura, somewhere between a frontline soldier and a rear commander, made her feel like a biting storm was approaching, inexplicably intimidating.
Cheng Ming hesitated, slowing her steps. As they were about to pass each other, she paused, turned slightly, and looked up, “Sister Ying Ying…”
“Shush.” Qu Ying didn’t stop, raising her hand and lightly pressing it on Cheng Ming’s head.
The force wasn’t gentle. Cheng Ming felt her head sink, and the faint smell of tobacco smoke wafted past her face.
Nicotine is harmful to the body… She sighed, adjusting her hat, and though she had words ready, she ended up saying nothing. She nodded slightly and walked away without looking back, like a stranger with whom she had little connection.
Cheng Ming quickly turned into the elevator bay on the right.
Thus, she didn’t notice Qu Ying stop and turn sideways, gazing at her retreating back for a long time.
It wasn’t until she had completely disappeared that Qu Ying glanced down at the single broken strand of hair in her hand. Her brow furrowed, but a faint curve appeared on her lips.
The smile held a hint of inquiry, a touch of hidden meaning, and a definite coldness—
Little one, after two months, you’ve managed to stir up quite the scandal.