Chapter 36: My Sweetheart, I've Found You

The moon hung high in the sky. At this hour, the neighborhood was usually tranquil, though the quiet would sometimes be pierced by a child's wail, the quarrel of a married couple, or the steady hum of insects. Tonight, however, an unnatural silence reigned—no sign of life, only the echo of a few, scattered footsteps.

"Captain Gu, be careful," Li Tiefeng hurried to Gu Changqing’s side, his expression tinged with worry.

He felt Gu Changqing’s earlier attitude might have been excessive; the Sentinels were not people to be trifled with. If the Sentinels were grown men in their prime, then the Chongming could only be compared to newborn infants. That squad of five alone could easily suppress all of Chongming. The squad leader, with his chiseled face, might have been slightly weaker than Gao Wenxin, but the other four could overpower anyone in Chongming. And there were three such squads in An Harbor alone, not to mention the head of the Sentinels stationed here.

But now was not the time to discuss such things. What worried him most was that the Sentinels were on the scene, and Gao Wenxin might not be able to provide timely support. Even a half-minute’s delay could lead to catastrophic casualties.

Ahead, a white mist hung like the gaping maw of a beast.

Everyone was a bundle of nerves and anticipation—part of them eager to prove themselves after their training, part of them afraid of what they might encounter. Truthfully, before their awakening and entry into Chongming, they had been nothing more than ordinary people filled with wild dreams.

"Eighty meters ahead, then I go left and you go right," Li Tiefeng said as they stood before the fog.

Eighty meters ahead were the two buildings where the first incidents occurred.

…

As they entered the fog, the sounds of the outside world faded, replaced by a cacophony—children crying, couples arguing, voices calling and cursing. The world within the mist was wholly separate from the world outside. If not for the obscuring white haze and their limited vision, one might have thought they were in an ordinary neighborhood.

"Be careful. No matter whom you see, don’t approach!" Li Tiefeng warned, drawing a blade—its edge slightly curved like a wild goose feather saber. A faint pattern of blood ran along the blade, almost unnoticeable, but betraying it as a second-tier spirit weapon.

The others grew even more alert, producing their own weapons. Several drew silver pistols, first-tier spirit arms—simple to use and requiring little training. Cold weapons, after all, were not for everyone.

Qiao Wenxia, from Gu Changqing’s squad, carried a police shield in one hand and a pistol in the other. Tan Li also had a pistol, while Zhuo Zhipeng wielded a short-handled hammer, its head as large as a melon.

Someone flicked on the radio, greeted only by static.

"The radios don’t work."

No one was surprised; they had expected as much and didn’t dwell on it.

They moved forward, the sound of crying drawing closer. After some thirty meters, they saw a little girl, perhaps six or seven, crouched by the roadside, weeping. She looked lost, perhaps separated from her family in the fog, left behind during the evacuation.

"Captain… what about her?" The others looked to Li Tiefeng and Gu Changqing.

Li Tiefeng frowned, hesitating.

Gu Changqing slipped a hand from his pocket. A dozen blood-red threads shot through the mist, wrapping around the little girl’s face and then burrowing into her nose and mouth.

The others gasped, stunned, looking at Gu Changqing.

The moment the blood threads entered the girl’s body, Gu Changqing knew she was no living thing. There was not a trace of vitality about her.

The threads withdrew to his hand. Gu Changqing strode forward and kicked—the half of the little girl’s body vanished into the fog, her crying fading with her, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

The rest called out in shock. Gu Changqing’s action was so abrupt and ruthless—especially after, earlier that day, he’d broken Shi Qun’s ribs with a single kick. Many now silently equated him with brutality.

Only half the girl remained, squatting there like a dried-out tree.

"If you’re hoping to find a living soul here, you might as well expect your family to receive your death benefit tomorrow," Gu Changqing scoffed.

Everyone edged past the half-girl, unable to help glancing at her before quickly looking away.

But that kick seemed to have stirred a hornet’s nest—footsteps began to sound all around them.

"Move, quickly!"

They sped up, reaching their designated position and immediately splitting up.

Gu Changqing led his group to the right, yanking open the entrance of a building. The hall inside was carpeted with a mass of meat and tissue that, upon seeing them, began to squirm along the walls.

The stench of blood was overwhelming.

Though Qiao Wenxia and the others had tried to steel themselves, their nerves faltered at this sight.

"Damn," Gu Changqing cursed. Clearly, this was the sort of thing best blasted apart with artillery before seeking out the true form of the anomaly. But such things were outside the jurisdiction’s plans. Unless things were utterly out of control and casualties mounting, they would never consider such measures—too impossible to keep secret.

"Qiao Wenxia, take the lead. Zhuo Zhipeng, break down the door. Tan Li, guard the rear," Gu Changqing ordered.

"What about you, Captain?" Qiao Wenxia’s voice trembled as she gazed at the corridor, a veritable lair of flesh.

"I’ll be in the middle to support you," Gu Changqing replied matter-of-factly, thinking these people might have their uses after all—at the very least, they could distract the anomaly.

Footsteps echoed behind them as shadowy figures began to materialize in the mist—moving slowly, but exerting immense psychological pressure.

"Still standing there? Want to be their next meal?" Gu Changqing kicked Qiao Wenxia, sending her and her shield tumbling into the mass of flesh.

The other two swallowed hard and hurried in after her.

Gu Changqing glanced back, then slammed the door shut behind him.

The moment he entered, the flesh began clawing at him, trying to drag him in, to fuse him with itself.

"Don’t rush," Gu Changqing grinned, almost cheerfully. He welcomed the idea—the creature inhabiting this building must have a surfeit of blood energy.

"Captain, what did you say?" Tan Li shivered.

"Keep moving. These things only look scary. The closer we get to the core, the thicker the flesh becomes," Gu Changqing replied, a blood serpent coiling onto his shoulder, thicker than a child’s arm.

Tan Li, whose senses were heightened, realized at once that this was no snake but living blood, its surface crawling with anguished faces, their wails digging into his soul. The agony, the despair—it was as if one had fallen into hell itself.

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure who the real monster was, and quickly looked away.

Every step Qiao Wenxia took, she felt herself being dragged back. The ceiling dripped blood onto her, the walls crawled with flesh that tried to engulf her. After just two turns, she broke down in tears.

Though their department had a contained anomaly, it was locked away, its blood and veins covering only half a wall—not comparable to this grotesque abattoir.

Then Gu Changqing’s mocking voice rang out: "If you don’t move, I’ll leave you here. They’ll welcome you, I promise! Once you’re part of them, you’ll never be scared again. Don’t worry, your family will get the death benefit promptly!"

At that, Qiao Wenxia darted up the stairs, head buried behind her shield.

Gu Changqing, unfazed, stomped down with each step, shaking the flesh free from around him.

As they ascended, the walls became more than just flesh—limbs and organs appeared, hearts beating on the walls, arms waving, reaching out to grab them.

The others trembled uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Qiao Wenxia felt something grab her ankle, yanking her down as a mass of flesh tried to engulf her. She shrieked, inhuman, as a woman’s arm stretched from the wall to grip her leg.

Zhuo Zhipeng swung his hammer, smashing the arm, and dragged her out.

She was smeared with blood and flesh, on the verge of collapse—kicking and flailing, she tossed aside her shield and pistol.

Gu Changqing’s lip curled—he’d overestimated these useless fools. He strode up, smashing an arm from the wall with one slap. As his foot struck the floor, the boards trembled and the flesh below burst as if struck by an explosion. He was a force of nature, a rampaging beast.

The others were shocked by his ferocity. Qiao Wenxia and Zhuo Zhipeng noticed that while they were smeared with blood and gore, not a single drop clung to Gu Changqing—he flicked the falling flesh aside without a care. Any limb that sprouted from the wall, he battered away as if with a sledgehammer, sending bones and meat flying.

With Gu Changqing leading, the others felt emboldened and hurried to follow.

By the fifth floor, the walls were layered thick with flesh, blood vessels and intestines writhing within, more nauseating than ever.

"Break it down!" Gu Changqing commanded.

Zhuo Zhipeng extended the handle of his hammer, gripping it with both hands. He smashed the door—splintering it open.

But a tangle of intestines and veins shot out, wrapping around Zhuo Zhipeng and dragging him in, the flesh enveloping most of his body in an instant.

Gu Changqing grabbed Qiao Wenxia and hurled her inside. Instantly, the flesh latched onto her, binding half her body as she screamed.

Only then did Gu Changqing brace himself, stepping forward in a single bound to Zhuo Zhipeng’s side, stomping the thick carpet of flesh and blasting it apart.

He scanned the living room quickly, then barreled into the bedrooms, one after another, but found no sign of the anomaly’s core.

An idea struck him—he kicked a wall with all his might.

Boom!

The wall burst into the next apartment.

In the instant the wall exploded, a torrent of blood vessels shot out, filling the air with the roar of whistling projectiles. The onslaught was overwhelming, a tidal wave of flesh that could unman any soul.

But Gu Changqing showed no fear, only a wild, beastlike ferocity. He leaped back into the living room as the blood vessels pursued him.

He reached out and yanked Qiao Wenxia from the tangle of flesh, then kicked the ground to expose her fallen shield. Snatching it up, he swung it to block the oncoming surge.

Boom! The blood vessels, like spears, shattered against the shield, then twisted around like serpents.

Gu Changqing tossed the nearly catatonic Qiao Wenxia forward—she was immediately ensnared again.

A surge of blood energy rippled through Gu Changqing. Veins crawled over his skin, and the air filled with a chorus of tormented wails, as if countless vengeful souls screamed from within him.

He planted the shield before him, stamped his foot, and the entire floor shuddered. Flesh exploded in bloody waves, the boards cracking beneath his boots.

Like a tank, Gu Changqing crashed into the bedroom. The blood vessels shattered against his shield, spraying to either side like a parted crimson tide.

He stormed into the next room, eyes sweeping the space. There, at the center, stood a man—the floor and ceiling connected to him by countless blood vessels, making him appear a blood-red pillar in the center of the room.

The floor and walls were carpeted thick with veins, all poised to strike like a thousand arrows.

Gu Changqing bared his teeth in a wild grin. "Found you, you little devil!"