The Little Merman in the Apocalypse 17
Su Luo was still looking down as he climbed the steps when, out of nowhere, someone picked him up and spun him around.
It was Sister Zhao.
“Sister, I… I’m dizzy.”
After setting the boy down, she noticed the unfamiliar men’s jacket he was wearing. Doubts lingered in her mind, but she chose not to voice them.
Yet, why did Su Luo’s little belly look so round again?
“Sweetie, where did you find food?”
As soon as she asked, tears welled up visibly in the boy’s eyes. His nose crinkled, and he shook his head obediently.
“Sister… I haven’t eaten anything. I’m so hungry.”
Sister Zhao didn’t pay much attention to the holes in his story. Instead, she offered him some of her saved snacks.
She was willing to overlook Su Luo’s little secrets, seeing no need to dig deeper.
Meanwhile, Qi Yu was in the first-floor lobby, instructing the others to search the hospital for the Saquinavir-d9 that Wang Wu needed.
After so many trials and tribulations,
the man’s expression grew increasingly grim. His words carried a hint of personal emotion, and his tone wasn’t pleasant.
“How are you still alive?”
He directed this question at Su Luo.
The boy, munching on crispy biscuits, nearly choked and had to gulp down several mouthfuls of water to recover.
He twisted his snow-dusted, icy fingers, stammering as he struggled to explain his survival.
Sister Zhao, seeing he had eaten enough, put away the remaining food.
“That’s a harsh thing to say. It’s enough that he’s back. Why press him?”
Qi Yu’s gaze was like a knife, cutting into every strand of the boy’s hair until the little fellow couldn’t help but tremble.
Only then did the man let out a dismissive sound and look away.
Su Luo’s eyelashes fluttered, his voice carrying a heart-wrenching, soft sob.
“I managed to escape while that big monster wasn’t paying attention.”
Qi Yu, however, didn’t care that the boy had just escaped death and hadn’t yet recovered.
Sticking to his principle of extracting every ounce of value from everyone, he assigned Su Luo a task, along with Sister Zhao.
“The medical records room on the third floor is yours. Meet back here once you’re done.”
The frosted glass windows blurred the view outside.
Sister Zhao and Su Luo walked through the empty, silent corridor to the third floor.
Blood stains, long since dried, remained on the beds.
In the corners, scattered medical instruments and supplies could still be seen.
Following the signs, they reached the medical records room.
The sturdy galvanized steel door had been clawed into a twisted arc by some creature, the handle broken in two.
As they moved further in,
they saw dusty medical records and X-rays, once carefully documented by doctors and nurses, now discarded like unwanted junk on the floor.
Sister Zhao shone her flashlight on a photo on the wall.
They saw a group photo of medical staff standing in front of the hospital, each with a smile on their face.
In the bottom right corner of the photo, it read, “Wishing xx a speedy recovery and discharge.”
“This photo…” the boy said, frowning, “something feels off.”
Dozens of medical staff wore stiff smiles, while the patient being wished well had a blank expression, creating an eerie and discordant scene.
Sister Zhao didn’t seem to notice.
“The date on it is just before the apocalypse. Let’s look at something else.”
Su Luo moved to turn on the computer on the desk, but it was long broken and wouldn’t start.
“Sister, it won’t turn on.”
No one responded.
When he looked up again, he found the records room empty.
The boy quickly stood up, searching for Sister Zhao, but found nothing.
All he saw was a room filled with cobwebs and dust, eerily silent.
“Sister?”
An indescribable panic surged in Su Luo’s heart.
He knew Sister Zhao well; she wasn’t the type to leave him alone.
Something… was definitely wrong!
The boy decided to leave the room for now, stepping on a thick blue folder as he exited.
He picked it up and flipped through it as he walked.
The first few pages detailed the hospital’s founding and its many achievements, until he reached a page with a different, yellowed hue.
Printed in computer font, it read, “Qingzhou Hospital’s other name—Qingzhou Mental Hospital.”
A list of patient names, admission dates, anesthesia records, and surgery consent forms filled the page.
By now, Su Luo realized this hospital was not as simple as it seemed.
One patient name was specially marked: “Z.”
[Suffering from severe delusional disorder with schizophrenia, initially judged to be related to genetic or acquired psychological factors]
The boy wasn’t particularly curious, but he had reached the second floor, glancing at the file on Z as he hurriedly looked for the players.
Unexpectedly, at some point, the hospital seemed to be empty, leaving only him.
Though there had been dozens of players and NPCs, now there was no trace of them.
Standing at the stairwell, he could see everything in the ward, including the old beds and broken IV bottles, but no people.
Where had Qi Yu and the others gone? Had they evacuated without telling him?
Su Luo lowered his gaze to the file in his hand.
[According to Z’s attending physician, after his parents divorced in his childhood, he lived with his mother. When his mother remarried, Z had a stepfather who was gentle and treated him well, being a teacher at a middle school]
[Their life was expected to be peaceful, but Z would inexplicably break things, becoming irritable, especially when his mother was away. The worst incident nearly resulted in him killing his stepfather, necessitating his treatment at this hospital]
The boy turned the page to find it was the last one, no longer printed in computer font.
And the time was marked just before the apocalypse, before the Zombie virus spread.
The red handwriting was scrawled.
[Damn these lunatics! They’re trying to rebel]
All sorts of curses filled the page, seemingly written by a doctor infuriated by the unruly patients at the mental hospital.
The last line was a chaotic, barely legible warning.
[Hide, don’t let it find you, or else…]