The three of them lifted the blue curtain and stepped out of the arcade. Wu Dahai pulled down the rolling shutter door behind them.
"Old Huang, don't blame me. I'm just a grunt in the organization. The rules are set by the higher-ups."
Qing Ling stood silently by the roadside outside.
"Qing Ling? Or Qing Ling'er?" Gao Yang asked cautiously.
"Qing Ling." She glanced back. "Did you win?"
"Yeah." Gao Yang smiled wryly. "But it was just a warm-up. There's a second test."
Qing Ling looked unsurprised. "I thought so."
"Wait, so I was the only one naive enough to think winning the games was enough?" Officer Huang sounded wounded.
"Honestly, whether you're good at games or not doesn't matter. I was mainly testing your patience and observing your character. Our organization doesn't judge by strength alone," Wu Dahai said proudly, rubbing his nose.
"Now that we've passed the character test, is the next one about strength?" Gao Yang asked.
"Of course! We don't take trash. If your talent's sequence number isn't in the top 100, you're out."
Gao Yang's heart sank. That's me. Looks like he'd have to wing it. Worst case, Qing Ling and Officer Huang could join first while he kept grinding luck points.
"Can I take this?"
A hoarse, aged voice interrupted them.
Gao Yang turned to see a hunched old man in tattered clothes, a dirty trash basket strapped to his back and a rusted fire tong in his hand. He stood by Officer Huang's police car, pointing at an empty cola bottle on the hood.
"This… you don't want it, right?" the old man asked again.
"Oh, sure, go ahead." Officer Huang walked over cheerfully, poured out the last drops of cola, crushed the bottle by hand, and tossed it into the old man's basket.
"Heh, young folks got strength," the old man mused, his wrinkled face breaking into a peaceful smile.
"Of course. Police academy grad—gotta train every day." Officer Huang pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket. "Want one, grandpa?"
"Don't mind if I do." The old man's cloudy eyes brightened slightly.
Officer Huang expertly placed a cigarette between the old man's lips and lit it for him.
"Mmm… not bad." The old man took a satisfied drag, offering no thanks as he turned and shuffled away.
The four of them watched his retreating figure.
"Living like that at his age… tough life," Officer Huang said sympathetically.
"You wouldn't say that if you'd met Old Man Zhang in his prime," Wu Dahai sneered. "I grew up around here. Back then, every kid on this street was scared of him."
"Oh?"
"Old Man Zhang was a butcher—mean as hell. He always blamed his wife for not giving him a son, beat her daily, sent her to the hospital more than once. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and drank pesticide. The day she killed herself was the day their daughter finished her college entrance exams. She'd endured until then just so she wouldn't mess up her kid's future."
A heavy silence fell.
"His daughter cut ties after starting college, never came home again. With his wife gone, Old Man Zhang lost his purpose. Quit butchering, drowned himself in booze, ruined his health. Then he got into gambling, lost his house. Ended up living on welfare and scavenging trash."
Wu Dahai's usual flippant demeanor faded, his gaze turning solemn. "Old Man Zhang's lived a whole life, but the way he is now—barely human—is the most human he's ever been."
He chuckled darkly. "Of course, he's actually a beast."
"Keep it down," Officer Huang warned. "He's not far. He might hear."
"Relax. He's a Lost One. Even if he hears, his brain'll just filter it out."
"He fell," Qing Ling interjected.
Wu Dahai turned. Old Man Zhang had collapsed on the ground ahead.
"Old Man Zhang?" Wu Dahai hurried forward. "You okay?"
A night breeze swept past. Gao Yang stared at the fallen figure in the distance, a sudden unease prickling his instincts—a heightened awareness from his improved Perception.
"Wait! Don't go near him!" Gao Yang shouted.
Wu Dahai froze, three meters away. "What?"
The next second, everyone except Wu Dahai saw it—Old Man Zhang stood up.
Not like a normal person rising slowly, but as if defying gravity, his stiff body snapping upright with an unseen force.
Qing Ling drew her blade. Officer Huang swiftly pulled his gun.
Gao Yang didn't hesitate either, backing away. He knew his current self was useless—the best he could do was not be a liability.
Wu Dahai took one look at their reactions and knew something was wrong. He spun around just as Old Man Zhang's head lolled to the side, limbs rigid as snapped chopsticks. His mouth twitched violently, frothing as he slurred, "Humans… humans… humanshumanshumans…"
Then, his skin began to melt.
Like scorched by invisible flames, his flesh dissolved into bloody mist, revealing pulsing muscle beneath. His body convulsed, chunks of blood exploding outward.
His groans twisted into frenzied howls. "HUMANS! HUMANS! HUMANS!"
His chest cavity swelled, ribs bursting through flesh like the maw of a man-eating flower, splitting open to reveal a grotesque tumor inside—a mass covered in human facial features.
The closest comparison? Imagine stuffing countless eyes, mouths, ears, and noses into thick plastic, tossing it all into an oven, and melting it into a single, writhing horror.
The tumor bloomed like a grotesque flower.
Old Man Zhang's upper body morphed into vines and leaves encasing the "bloom," while his lower half corroded and melted into the ground like roots.
In under thirty seconds, Old Man Zhang had transformed from a man into a monstrous, blood-drenched carnivorous plant.
"What kind of beast is this?" Qing Ling's brow furrowed.
"No idea," Officer Huang muttered.
"Fight or run?" Qing Ling asked.
"Run. It doesn't seem mobile or intelligent—"
Before he could finish, Old Man Zhang's intestines had unraveled into bloody, fleshy vines. One lashed out toward Wu Dahai.
Wu Dahai yelped and turned to flee.
THWIP.
The vine coiled around his ankle and yanked. Wu Dahai crashed face-first into the ground.
"Get off! Get off me—!" He thrashed wildly, clawing at anything for leverage, but it was useless.
Just as he was about to be dragged into the monster's clutches—
BANG!
A gunshot severed the vine.
The stump sprayed blood and recoiled, the severed section loosening from Wu Dahai's ankle. Like a snake, it slithered back across the ground and merged into Old Man Zhang's body.
Within seconds, the vine regrew.
WHOOSH—
This time, three vines shot toward Wu Dahai.