After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 60

Chapter 60: “Even in Death, You Can’t Escape Me.”

A Summer Memory and a Cold Reunion

In the summer of 2161, Qu Ying was settling into the Security Department. Professor Cheng Ran invited her home to meet her daughter.

The August sky was deep blue. As Qu Ying stepped out of the car, she saw them standing by the duplex gate. Cheng Ran held a small girl’s hand.

“This is Cheng Ming,” Cheng Ran introduced.

Bathed in the bright sunshine, the mother and daughter, so alike, seemed to glow.

“Darling, say hello to your sister,” Cheng Ran urged the girl toward Qu Ying.

The girl was about nine, wearing a white and blue dress, her hair neatly braided. She looked up at Qu Ying with a barely perceptible smile, her expression cool and reserved—living up to her name, which meant “Deep Sea” in Chinese. She had an aura of distance, but Qu Ying would later learn she was merely shy and awkward.

Qu Ying bent down, mischievously messed up Cheng Ming’s hair, and spoke her first words to her:

“Hello there, little one.”

…

Thirteen years later, on October 11th, the air in the remote, secret experiment base was still damp beneath the characteristic rain belt of the 30,000-kilometer coastal defense.

Qu Ying stood in the strangely styled main hall, remembering that summer day. The bright light from the high dome made the present scene overlap with the past. That day was warm, vibrant, and sweet; today, it was desolate and cold—a grotesque nightmare burning with a chilling blue flame on a boundless sea.

Qu Ying had been escorted here, compliant after being injected with a powerful inhibitor. The silver metal ring around her neck and the shackles on her wrists looked like strange fashion accessories. She started with a careless smile, ready to see what new surprise this insane world had for her.

But soon, her gaze became distant, her expression emotionless.

A woman in a white lab coat walked out, wearing a surgical mask. Her wavy hair was casually tied up with a lab pen. Her demeanor was utterly different from the past: cold, detached, and unsettlingly lacking in life.

Despite the mask, she was easily recognizable. After six years, she stood before Qu Ying, accompanied by a young woman—a “colleague” of hers. This woman, designated MM221, was the only successful surviving Merfolk chimera from the 221st project initiated by Professor Cheng Ran in 2152. She was sweet-looking with dimples, completely unlike Cheng Ming, but she also called this woman “Mother.”

The young woman, 221, looked at Qu Ying with obvious reluctance, as if Qu Ying were here to steal her mother.

“Let’s go,” the unruffled female voice said.

Qu Ying shifted her gaze from the woman who called herself “Little Shell” back to the experimenter—this great and outstanding woman of both past and present. A malicious joy suddenly swelled inside her. She let her most brilliant smile flash and asked:

“Your precious daughter is dead. Did you know?”

…

The Weight of Expectation

In the Security Department apartment, 17th floor.

In the bathroom, hot water ran over the red shell. Cheng Ming carefully rubbed off the sand and strung it onto a fine thread, hanging it around her neck. Since she couldn’t lose it, she had to keep it safe.

In the shower, she scrubbed her “hair” (the hyphae), despite its self-cleaning ability, with a profound sense of disgust. She was emotionally sickened by the sight of the dark filaments clinging to her skin.

In the dark cave, during their standoff, Little Ming had finally and grudgingly admitted the truth: the human-snake monster was inviting her to join it. Join what? It hadn’t cared enough to find out. Little Ming simply didn’t want her to form a bond with any other creature—human or monster.

“You have me; that’s enough,” it had argued brazenly.

Little Ming had since gone silent, playing dead after their fight, recognizing that its deception was Cheng Ming’s breaking point.

The air in the shower was hot and muggy. Cheng Ming plunged her fingers into her “hair,” kneading almost abusively, as if trying to rip it out. Little Ming wanted her to live, but more accurately: it wanted her to live only with it. She had underestimated its possessiveness. Had the mutant not been vulnerable to heavy weapons, she believed it wouldn’t have hesitated to slaughter her team and force her to run away with it.

“Don’t touch me with your feeding hyphae again. It’s disgusting,” Cheng Ming said, wringing out the water and covering her head with a shower cap before turning the faucet directly onto herself.

Little Ming was forced to speak: “You’re just saying that because you’re angry, right?”

Cheng Ming ignored it. Her mind shifted from the sea-snake to Lu Qian’s suspicious reaction, and then to the Biological Department’s evasiveness during her report.

She turned off the water abruptly, her heart skipping a beat at a chilling thought.

She was troubled by the distinction between the two monster groups: those that mutated in the ocean, capable of intelligent mimicry, and those deliberately created by the Security Department through scientific fusion. Now, it seemed the ocean also produced human-fused chimeras. The line was blurring.

If the ocean-mutants came first, the Defense Center’s experiments were a desperate, if extreme, defense for humanity. But if the human-made monsters came first… was this whole disaster a self-inflicted farce, or a deliberate conspiracy?

The thought alone was terrifying.

….

The Loving Hand and the Hidden Needle

In the adjacent bedroom, a desk lamp shone like a small sun. Yan Rong sat at her desk, half her face clearly lit, the other half obscured by shadow.

In her fingers, she delicately turned a glass vial the size of an eyedropper. The clear liquid inside shimmered on the wooden surface. Two other small brown bottles sat to her left.

All three arrived this morning with the grocery delivery. The opposing corporation had been slow, which was troubling. If the “sister” was a maliciously parasitic monster, Yan Rong could have been dead many times over.

“Security Department materials are hard to get during this period,” the contact had explained.

Yan Rong carefully read the included instructions one last time, then tapped the delete button, erasing the message and its backup.

The clear vial contained a Neural Inhibitor. Designed to detect neurological abnormalities caused by parasitic possession, it would expose the monster if “Yan Li” exhibited slurred speech, confusion, or emotional breakdown after consumption.

It was useful, but low-yield, expensive, and risky: it could cause side effects like paralysis even in a human. The Security Department wouldn’t use it without 80% certainty.

It was also a huge risk for Yan Rong. If the monster went berserk from the side effects or rage, she, being mobility-impaired, would be the first victim.

But… if it came to that, she probably wouldn’t want to run anyway.

Yan Rong tucked the Neural Inhibitor into the storage pouch on her wheelchair frame and picked up the other two vials. She drew the liquid from one into a syringe, capped it, and placed it in the pouch as well.

These two were brightly colored, unsuitable for mixing with food, because they were never meant to be hidden. They were Neurotoxins—instant death.

She looked at the remaining vial of poison. The warm, orange light penetrated the dark glass, casting a mesmerizing glow that reflected in her eyes. A small, almost blissful smile curved her lips—a blend of sadness and quiet resolve.

Sister, if you are no longer you, I will avenge you… I will drag your murderer down with me, hold your warm body, and descend into hell together.

Even in death, you can’t escape me.

…

Knock, knock.

Cheng Ming was wrestling with her rock-hard mattress when the door was tapped.

“Sister, can I come in?”

She hadn’t locked the door, leaving it ajar to fit Yan Li’s habit. The voice asked permission, but the door opened immediately.

The sound of the wheelchair rolling closer jolted Cheng Ming upright like a startled cat. Her initial reaction was alarm at the intrusion into her private space, but in the next second, she corrected herself: This is Yan Li’s room, she is Yan Li, and this is her inseparable sister.

Plus, I promised Yan Li I’d take care of her.

It’s hard being a sister. No personal space… How did Yan Li handle this?

Sighing internally, Cheng Ming put down the bedding and forced a welcome. “What’s wrong, Rongrong? Why are you still up?”

“Sister, I made you soup. I learned how to cook it today, but you came home so late…” Yan Rong held a small ceramic tureen, looking up with a mix of plaintiveness and expectation. “It won’t taste good tomorrow.”

The gentle pressure was deadly. Yan Rong was practically saying, You can’t refuse me, in a soft, cajoling voice that was impossible to resist.

But I just brushed my teeth… Cheng Ming swallowed the excuse. She looked from the tureen to Yan Rong’s expectant face and gave up.

“Alright.”

She took the tureen, feeling the residual warmth of the ceramic, and prepared to drink it in one gulp.