The Little Merman in the Apocalypse 11
Basement Level Three.
The walls and ceiling were made of a smooth, hard white material, creating an empty and desolate atmosphere.
Only the occasional footsteps and the hum of experimental equipment broke the silence.
“Alright, alright, same place as always. You start drinking, I’ll be there soon.”
Administrator Huang San waved goodbye to his colleague.
He hummed a little tune, the melody light and somewhat lazy.
With his hands clasped behind his back, Huang San seemed to be patrolling, or perhaps just enjoying this rare moment of relaxation.
The blue collared work uniform looked tight on him, his slightly protruding belly bouncing with each step.
Even before his shift ended, Huang San was already planning on going for a drink.
His leisurely mood was abruptly interrupted when he saw a few scattered fluorescent panels emitting a faint glow in the distance.
He hurried over to check, a series of red numbers frantically flashing, indicating that A307’s vital signs were abnormal.
Huang San quickly entered the password and went inside.
Through the sturdy, specially-made glass, he observed the male merman shrouded in a dark, bottomless sea of black mist.
It lay motionless at the bottom of the pool, appearing lifeless…
Sweat trickled down Huang San’s forehead as he swallowed nervously.
“Hey, A307, what’s wrong?”
The dark merman remained silently turned away, unresponsive to his calls.
This was a big problem, and he couldn’t bear the consequences.
The man picked up his communication device to contact his superiors, but suddenly there was no signal.
“Sss… sss.”
Huang San was frantic, pacing back and forth in distress.
With An Lan’s temperament, she would surely skin him alive.
He could only temporarily shut down the high-voltage power source and go find someone to help.
Just as Huang San turned around, he heard the sound of something stirring the water, a “splash” echoing in his ears.
He turned back in confusion, catching a glimpse of the dark fish tail close by.
A neatly severed head rolled out, leaving a trail of blood, and the body convulsed briefly before collapsing.
The walkie-talkie in Huang San’s hand fell to the ground, crushed underfoot.
An Lan, feeling uneasy, was reviewing the surveillance footage, especially the area where A307 was located.
On screen, Huang San patrolled as usual, nothing seemed amiss,
but just as she was about to turn it off, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The woman furrowed her brows and sent someone to check it out.
Unexpectedly, just a few minutes later, she received a report.
“Ms. An, A307… has disappeared.”
The wind and snow swept through the dilapidated streets and alleys, the cold seeping into one’s bones, chilling from head to toe.
The temperature was dropping steadily.
Sister Zhao hurriedly led the way.
Pei Yue followed silently, occasionally coughing, while Su Luo kept him company with light conversation.
Sister Zhao glanced back at Pei Yue, clearly seeing the calluses on the man’s thumb and forefinger.
His muscular build was evident, not what one would expect from someone supposedly chronically ill.
She couldn’t understand it.
Pei Yue claimed to suffer from an old ailment, yet his actions when killing the zombie dog were fierce and ruthless, delivering a fatal blow without showing any signs of weakness…
Back at the villa.
The players and NPCs all cast curious glances at the boy wearing a mask.
Su Luo walked unsteadily, as if injured.
Sister Zhao found a clean, soft, pale yellow blanket to wrap around the shivering boy.
She also handed him a cup of hot water.
“Thank you, sister.”
The soft, obedient voice tugged at the woman’s heartstrings.
He temporarily removed his mask, revealing a face with slightly reddened eyes, as delicate as fine porcelain.
The water was still a bit hot.
Su Luo blew on it gently before taking a small sip.
The others couldn’t help but fixate on the tip of his tongue as it peeked out when he parted his lips.
Su Luo, realizing belatedly, clutched the cup with both hands, shrinking back as if to hide behind Sister Zhao.
The boy, like a frightened cub, was acutely sensitive to everyone’s actions around him.
Even his feet, clad in white cotton socks, were tucked tightly under the blanket.
Everyone found him endearing, irresistibly drawn to him.
Pei Yue chuckled softly.
He surveyed the room with a calm gaze, a cold undercurrent brewing in his deep-set eyes.
“Clang!”
His long fingers casually flicked the sharp blade beside him, the clear ring of the knife carrying an unspoken threat.
No one dared to look at Su Luo again.
The conversation shifted as they discussed.
“Hey, isn’t Old Li awake yet? He must be really out of it, it’s been almost a day. Who’s going to wake him?”
Su Luo put his mask back on, feeling a bit more secure with Sister Zhao and Pei Yue on either side of him.
Condensation formed on the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow falling heavily outside. In this cozy environment, Su Luo nestled into his blanket, drowsy.
The others also lowered their voices in consideration.
The man who went to wake Old Li had been inside for a long time without coming out.
The boy’s fine eyelashes cast small shadows under his eyes, his clear gaze slowly closing.
But just a few seconds later, they opened again.
Sister Zhao, thinking he was startled by a nightmare, gently patted his back through the blanket, soothing him with soft words.
“Don’t be afraid, we’re all here with you.”
But Su Luo showed no improvement, his face as pale as jade, revealing a hint of fragility and helplessness.
Even his fingers clutching the blanket were white from tension, remnants of the vine’s grip…
He wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, hesitating, still wanting to tell Sister Zhao.
“Sister, I need to go to the bathroom.”
Unexpectedly, his words were drowned out by a scream from the room.
A player crawled out from Old Li’s door, his expression terrified, fingers twisted as he clawed at the floor, as if a monster were behind him.
“Help, help me!”
Before anyone could react, the man, halfway out, was dragged back in.
The red-painted wooden door slammed shut, the sound of chewing faintly audible.
“Mom, I’m scared…”
A child hid in their mother’s arms, too afraid to look at what was happening in the room.
But everyone could guess.
Qi Yu descended from upstairs, his face grim, cocking the gun in his hand, his gaze scanning the crowd.
He paused for a second on Su Luo before shifting to another male NPC.
“You, come here.”
The man understood Qi Yu’s intention, to use him as bait to lure the zombie out of the room, and he shook his head frantically in refusal.
“No way, I’m not going to die, they’ve definitely mutated!”
But Qi Yu gave him no choice, shooting through the man’s right hand, then aiming at his head.
His tone was casual, treating life as if it were nothing, because to players, NPCs were just a string of data.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The man, in pain, his scalp tingling, eyes red and swollen, knew that if he hesitated any longer, he would die.
He could only clutch his bleeding right hand, trembling as he approached Old Li’s room.
The man, on the brink of collapse, walked lightly, as if afraid the thing inside would hear.
Clinging to a sliver of hope, he knocked on the door, praying, “Please don’t open, don’t!”
Su Luo couldn’t see what happened next because Sister Zhao and Pei Yue quickly covered his eyes.
He could only hear the shouts and the silence that followed the gunshots.
The scent of blood in the air made him pale, retreating into his soft blanket, momentarily forgetting his own predicament.