After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: You Should Go Foraging For Me.

The staff member nervously sized up Cheng Ming, his expression clearly saying, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Ah, about that…” It was a bit of a headache to explain, so Cheng Ming tried to keep it brief. “My situation is a little unique. I had a high fever when I was 3 years old that damaged my cranial nerves, and I became a vegetative patient, remaining in a medical pod ever since. Twelve years of my life are completely blank.”

In such a condition, simply maintaining life was a luxury; growth and development were naturally almost non-existent.

Moreover, she had always been physically weak because of it; colds and fevers were commonplace. This was probably why the institute hadn’t been overly surprised by her subsequent fungal infection. At least, no one suspected anything other than an accident.

“Twelve years?”

Even though everyone present was well-informed, they couldn’t help but be shocked by the number.

For a vegetative patient to survive that long and wake up without cerebral dysfunction, with her intelligence intact or even surpassing the average person, was a medical miracle, even with today’s technology.

But looking at the thunderous names “Cheng Ran” and “Cheng Jin” in the kinship column, a few people exchanged subtle glances and tacitly dropped the subject.

Without much fanfare, the qualification review ended. All procedures were completed, and Cheng Ming officially became an Assistant Researcher in Jiang Dexin’s research group.

The salary and benefits that preoccupied most people were not Cheng Ming’s concern. The most gratifying thing was the further elevation of her internal authority within the institute.

Jiang Dexin specifically took time to celebrate her promotion, treated her and a few of the more familiar girls from her former lab to lunch, and then took her to familiarize herself with the new laboratory and workstation.

As they were parting ways, Huang Chengcheng “cried” particularly dramatically. “Wuwu, Senior Sister! Senior Sister, don’t leave! How will we ever survive without you…”

“You’re the worst troublemaker!” Jiang Dexin playfully smacked the back of their heads one by one. “Study hard, get your Master’s or PhD, and strive to come back and get straight to Assistant Researcher after graduation. Then you can work together again.”

“No way.” Huang Chengcheng immediately crossed her arms, looking defeated. “Even if we could study, by the time we come back, Senior Sister will probably be an Associate Researcher…”

“Exactly,” another girl interjected. “It’s more sensible for us to just pack up and apply to study under Senior Sister directly.”

The students were so devoted to their teacher that “Old Doctor” Jiang was “moved” to award them another smack each.

Cheng Ming smiled helplessly as she watched their playful banter, her eyes slightly curved, a look of indulgence on her face, as if she was also reluctant to part. Yet, a strange feeling welled up in her heart.

This feeling had actually begun subtly a long time ago, but only now was she truly unable to ignore it—she was a bit unable to truly empathize with the joy and sorrow of others.

She was bored with everything in front of her. She could cooperate, she could fake a normal reaction, but it wasn’t genuine.

Cheng Ming smiled on the outside while her mind wandered, a slight, silent fear seeping into her heart.

The parasite was changing her nervous system.

She had always worried that the monster might suddenly replace her one day, but she hadn’t considered the other possibility: that she might be subtly changing, step by step, into the likeness of the monster.

Snapping back to reality, the elevator reached the 113th floor, opening up to a completely new environment.

Cheng Ming followed Jiang Dexin, corridor after corridor, through a maze of twists and turns. Drip, after an iris scan, the automatic glass door slid open.

Entering this restricted area, Cheng Ming realized that the true scene was different from what she had seen outside—the door behind her was fake glass, and the scene it showed was a projection, not actually transparent.

In short, this place had a very high level of confidentiality.

There were multiple labs on both sides, which looked no different from the outside, but when one of them was opened, the overhead lighting was very dim. They put on protective clothing as required for a Level 1 biosafety lab, passed through the air shower in the dark, and entered the innermost room, where the visibility was even darker.

It was a darkroom.

“This short walk is to give you time to adapt, and to remind you, don’t bring any lighting or even reflective equipment in here,” Jiang Dexin explained as she walked.

The end opened up suddenly. Before them, huge, sealed glass tanks, like those used to keep tropical fish in an aquarium, were placed haphazardly, emitting a faint eerie glow.

Getting closer, the blue glimmering lights were clustered together, like dust gathered into clumps, or nebulae floating in the universe, bobbing up and down in the transparent water.

It made one momentarily feel as if they had stumbled into a vast sea of stars.

“The Wave-Born Floating Flower Algae-Fungus (浪生浮花藻菌), you already know about it,” Jiang Dexin tapped the glass and introduced it.

Upon the vibration, the algae-fungus drifted with the current, slightly picking up speed as it danced in the water, trailing dazzling, shimmering light tails, mesmerizing and beautiful.

It suddenly made the name “Wave-Born Floating Flower” understandable.

Cheng Ming, of course, knew.

She had seen it in her mother’s manuscripts. The reason her mother and Cheng Jin were among the founders and pioneers of the institute was their discovery of this algae-fungus.

But what exactly was the function of this algae-fungus?

Cheng Ming didn’t know.

But she really wanted to know.

She always felt that this might be related to the disappearance of her parents.

So, when she was assigned to dispose of discarded experimental materials that day and saw that one of the labels carried the abbreviated scientific name of the Wave-Born Floating Flower Algae-Fungus, she tilted her head, looked at the high-temperature and high-pressure sterilizer that was starting up, scanned the oblique monitor, turned sideways, and dropped her earring into the exhaust vent.

The machine buzzed, malfunctioning. She put on gloves to inspect it carefully, “accidentally” knocked over the small vial, then stepped back and called to report the need for repair.

The entire process was reasonable and compliant.

Even when she later took the half-deactivated fungal vial to an empty lab on her own, she only observed it after putting on protective gear.

However, she recalled the sporadic records in her mother’s manuscript that this fungus seemed to have a special reaction to living animal cells. After a moment of hesitation, she pricked her finger and drew 0.5ml of bl00d.

This was the so-called not-so-accidental accident. This was the “little experiment” she had mentioned to Qu Ying.

Facts proved that the experience of her predecessors could not be fully trusted. She didn’t gain much useful information, but instead lost more than she gained.

“There’s not much you need to do for now. Look through the previous data to get familiar with your new ‘colleagues’ and record their growth status daily… Hmm, these few tanks were just changed; they’ll probably take over a month to grow. Let me know when they’re close to the K-value and I’ll teach you how to subculture them. Sometimes departments will come to purchase, and you’ll be responsible for uploading to the system and handling the handover and recording.”

Cheng Ming listened carefully, noting everything down.

After finishing the instructions, Jiang Dexin, eager to get back to her interns, was near the door but turned back to remind her: “Don’t stay in here too long, okay? The rest area is next door.”

She subconsciously asked why, and the other party smiled mysteriously: “Ever played a horror game? If you stay too long, you’ll lose Sanity.”

Cheng Ming was pondering the deeper meaning when she heard her respected Teacher Jiang chuckle: “Just kidding.”

She: “…” You have too much energy.

In reality, it was for physical safety. Although sealed and isolated with specialized materials, they were, after all, organisms that had been directly immersed in nuclear wastewater. There was inevitable concern about minute radiation leakage.

“Does it feel familiar?” After Jiang Dexin left, Cheng Ming asked the parasite inside her in a tone she couldn’t quite place, a bit mocking.

The room was dim and empty, and the faint blue algae-fungus slowly drifted around her. She felt like she was standing in the deep sea, peering into the planet’s most unique and mysterious corner.

She couldn’t determine the specific origin of this fish-fungus monster.

What experiments had those materials previously undergone? Were there other organisms in the vial at the time? Or was she, like Wang Qi, already quietly parasitized, and the substance she encountered merely served as the trigger for a full replacement one day… She found it hard to judge.

To be honest, with a slight stretch of imagination, she felt the latter possibility was not small—she was first parasitized by the fish monster, but for some reason, it couldn’t be fully activated until it was re-parasitized by the algae-fungus.

Xiao Ming: “It tastes delicious.”

It seemed unable to understand human language.

It only urged Cheng Ming: “You should go foraging for me.”

Cheng Ming: “…”

Since she couldn’t get any answers, she ignored it.

She gently took out the necklace from her chest, gazing at the seashell whose color had changed due to the lighting. With the room full of shimmering blue light and surrounded by marine fungi, it looked beautiful and ethereal, like a waking dream.

To this day, she couldn’t recall what exactly happened on that night five years ago.

It was her last birthday before entering university. Cheng Jin left the institute early and bought a cake.

Cheng Ran returned very late. She almost thought her mother had forgotten until she walked in and presented the seashell pendant, only then realizing Cheng Ran had prepared this special gift for her, but the journey was delayed because of stricter procedures for travel between different provinces and cities to retrieve it.

The coffee table was very low, and she knelt on the footstool in front of the sofa to make a wish.

She was already grown up, but Cheng Ran still habitually crouched down to hug her, while Cheng Jin stood silently behind them, watching.

She laughed heartily, surrounded by her family, the creamy cake emitting a sickeningly sweet aroma.

Phew, a blow, and the flame flickered.

The candle went out.

Their faces, too, seemed to melt like wax, blurring into a terrifying, unfamiliar mess with the memory of home.

When she woke up again, she had no mother, no father, no home.

The subsequent events were all recounted to her by Qu Ying.

She was found unconscious by a patrol team from the Investigation Department, less than two kilometers from the sea. Cheng Ran and Cheng Jin were gone.

There were iris scan records of them passing through the checkpoints.

No one knew what the two professors intended to do that late night, bringing their just sixteen-year-old daughter and using their authority to enter the coastal restricted zone.

They vanished without a trace. She lay in the intensive care unit for forty-seven days until her radiation index was cleared, and she was allowed to return to a normal life.

The fortunate part of the misfortune was that her body wasn’t severely damaged; even her lost hair had been restored after five years of effort. The unfortunate part of the good fortune was… the effort was in vain.

Cheng Ming gazed at the seashell reflected in the light of the algae-fungus for a long time, her perception of time worn away.

Finally, I’m one step closer to you… Mommy.

She thought.

Suffocation and loneliness, like a devil lurking in the darkness, clung to her throat like a shadow. It was particularly intense in this silence.

No wonder the regulations required not staying too long; there might also be a reason for the sake of mental health.

But glancing at the “hair” softly clinging to her cheek, and remembering that this body simultaneously housed another soul—even if a monster’s consciousness could be called a soul—Cheng Ming couldn’t help but feel a subtle, indescribable emotion.

Although she feared and detested it and wanted to get rid of it every moment, there were times, for just a second… when she felt that perhaps having its companionship wasn’t so bad.

Amidst the persistent questioning from a certain fish-fungus about “when are you going to get me food,” Cheng Ming put away the pendant.

…

As Jiang Dexin went downstairs, she received a phone call.

Seeing the “299” prefix, she answered, patiently waiting for instructions.

“How is your new Assistant Researcher?”

It was a mature female voice, around the same age as Jiang Dexin, but with a more intellectual and gentle impression.

“I assigned the Wave-Born Floating Flower Algae-Fungus to her. She’s very interested.”

“Mhm.” Although the woman’s voice was soft, her tone carried the inherent authority and inapproachability of a superior. However, after this indifferent response, she added, “Don’t restrict her too much.”

“Understood.” Jiang Dexin was actually a bit surprised.

She found the other party’s tone somewhat hard to describe. How to put it? It was like addressing a junior, or even more exaggeratedly, as if she were her daughter… But given this person’s situation, it was impossible for her to have such a junior. And she was perfectly aware of Cheng Ming’s background.

The next second, the other party’s detached attitude dispelled this ridiculous notion—

“Also, don’t spoil her too much. If it affects the experiment’s progress, you don’t need to protect her.”

…

At midnight, Cheng Ming, who had already finished her workday, returned to the institute.

Since acquiring this parasitic companion, she felt like she was raising a troublesome cat. She was either hustling for the other party’s food or cleaning up the mess it made, with not a moment of rest.