harleyscars Chapter 14 The Zhang Family
Chapter 14 The Zhang Family
At 2:17 a.m., Cheng Song landed on his bedroom floor with a thud, like a bag of trash thrown out of a car window.
He lay on the ground, dry heaving twice. His combat uniform was now a mobile source of biological contamination, covered in an unidentified viscous substance of black, green, and red, emitting a pungent odor that could kill a fly on the spot.
"Damn, this smell..." Cheng Song rolled his eyes, choked by the stench. He struggled to lift his head and the first thing he saw was a family photo of the three of them on the bedside table. His mother was smiling like a Buddha in the photo.
"Oh no." An alarm went off in his head. If his mother saw him like this, she could fake a cardiac arrest on the spot, and then lock him in the house for six months of patriotic re-education and blind date blitz, arguing that her son had probably joined some cult or gone to Syria to become a mercenary.
It must be dealt with! Immediately! Right now!
He endured the aches and pains all over his body, tried to sprawl out like a carp but failed, instead turning into a tortoise flip, frantically peeling off the layer of pollutants from his body. He had to be quiet; his parents were asleep in the master bedroom next door.
He was halfway off his combat uniform when it got stuck. The corrosive liquid had stuck to his left side. Cheng Song gritted his teeth, and with a ripping sound, he tore the uniform off along with a small piece of new flesh. He grimaced in pain, but dared not cry out.
"Damn it, what is this? Performing emergency wound cleaning surgery on myself?" he thought with a wry smile, crumpling his tattered clothes into a ball and tiptoeing to the window.
Thanks to the architectural design of the old-style neighborhood, his room window overlooked the old, leafy camphor tree. Cheng Song opened the window (he had deliberately left a crack the night before) and looked around—at four in the morning, there wasn't a soul in sight. He tossed his clothes out like a shot put. A dark shadow arced perfectly through the bushes below.
"Perfect, zero points." He gave himself a score, then looked back at himself—he was only wearing his underwear, and there were still scabs of blood on his body that hadn't been wiped off.
There was no time to think about it. He grabbed an old T-shirt and sweatpants he usually wore from the closet, put them on, then grabbed a half-empty bottle of mineral water from the bedside table, poured it onto a towel, and hastily wiped his face and arms. In the mirror, he looked as pale as a regular at the morgue, but at least... he looked like a human being, not something that had just crawled out of a mountain of corpses.
Next step: Create a reasonable homecoming environment.
Cheng Song took a deep breath and climbed onto the windowsill. The fourth floor was neither too high nor too low. He looked down at the ground below, then felt the surging, somewhat unfamiliar power within him brought by the Lv5 power level.
"I shouldn't... die from the fall, right?"
He pushed off with his feet, landing lightly with a forward roll, the sound softer than a cat's. Brushing the dust off himself, he went around to the main entrance of the building, and took out his keys at his door.
"Click."
The sound of the door opening was exceptionally clear in the quiet hallway. Cheng Song deliberately made the door close a tiny bit louder.
"Bang!"
Alright, the signal has been given. Like a typical late-night owl, he slumped over, slipped on his slippers, and pattered his way to his room.
"Osomatsu?"
Sure enough, the master bedroom door opened. Mom, wearing the pajamas that said "Harmony in the family brings prosperity in all things," her hair disheveled, peeked out sleepily, her face filled with bewilderment, as if asking, "Who am I? Where am I? Why is my son back at this hour?"
"Mom," Cheng Song immediately switched into acting mode, feigning exhaustion but still trying to stay awake, "Did I wake you up? My training ended early."
"Training?" Mom paused for two seconds, then her brain seemed to reboot. "Didn't you say it was closed training that wouldn't end until Sunday? This... what time is it?"
"The boss stood me up," Cheng Song shrugged, slumped onto the sofa, his acting natural and smooth. "The big boss had something come up at the last minute and couldn't come for the inspection. What's the point of this training? It was disbanded in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep well there, so I came back overnight."
His mother shuffled over in her slippers, looking him up and down with a puzzled expression. "Then...why didn't you call ahead to let us know? Your dad and I were so worried! We called you so many times and you didn't answer!"
Here comes the crucial question.
Cheng Song sighed convincingly, pulled his phone from his pocket, and pressed the power button—the screen remained black, unresponsive. He handed the phone over: "Here, it's not that I didn't want to answer, it's that I couldn't. They confiscated it as soon as I went in, it's under lockdown. It was just returned after the lockdown, and the battery was completely dead, so it wouldn't turn on. I found a 24-hour convenience store, charged it for a while, and when I turned it on, wow, so many missed calls from you! I figured it was too late to call you back, so I rushed home, didn't I?"
He placed his black-screen phone on the coffee table, leaned back, closed his eyes, and wore an expression of exhaustion on his face—half acting, half genuine.
The mother picked up her phone and pressed the buttons again, but there was no response. Looking at her son's pale face and his wrinkled pajamas, her brows slowly relaxed, and her doubts were overshadowed by heartache.
"Why did you run off like that? If the power went out, just sleep outside and come back," Mom complained, her hand already touching Cheng Song's forehead. "You don't have a fever, do you? Why is your face so pale? And why are you all damp?"
"I'm hot and tired," Cheng Song mumbled with his eyes closed. "I haven't slept much all day from intense training. Mom, I want to take a shower and go to sleep. I'm so sleepy."
"Go wash up, hurry up!" Mom immediately switched to worry mode. "The water heater's on! Go to bed right after you're done! There's chicken soup simmering in the fridge, tomorrow... no, today! Don't forget to ask that girl out again this afternoon! Wear that blue plaid shirt I ironed for you! Look your best!"
"Okay, okay..." Cheng Song dragged his tired body toward the bathroom.
"Oh, right," Mom added from behind, "did you take out the trash? I think I heard some noise downstairs."
Cheng Song remained expressionless: "Ah, I was just passing by the trash can and casually threw away the unpalatable snacks and waste paper that were given out during training."
"Oh." Mom didn't ask any more questions, yawned, and said, "Go wash up quickly, then go to bed. I'm going to lie down for a while too."
The bathroom door closed, and Cheng Song leaned against it, letting out a slow sigh of relief. He had managed to get through the first hurdle.
He turned on the shower, and warm water streamed down. Only then did he have a real chance to examine his body. The wounds had mostly healed, leaving some pale pink new flesh, which looked a bit effeminate, but it was better than wounds that were deep enough to expose bone. The soreness was everywhere, but his Lv5 constitution gave the soreness a kind of unrealistic sense of power, like "I could take on ten of them."
As he washed, he tried to activate the Black Light Virus within his body. However, the feedback he received made Cheng Song's heart sink.
The virus was still there. He could feel that familiar, cold, and immense presence, lurking in the deepest part of his body, intertwined and entwined with his very life force, more closely and inseparable than ever before. But its activity was eerily dormant.
In the past, whenever he had a thought, the virus would respond, conveying emotions of hunger, greed, excitement, or violence, instantly transforming into claws, hammers, whips, or unleashing a frenzied devouring. It was a surging force full of aggression and danger.
But now, that power seemed to have sunk to the deepest seabed, becoming something... inert, massive, and dormant. It no longer actively transmitted any emotions, nor responded to any commands regarding attack forms or devouring. Cheng Song tried to condense a wisp of viral energy into his fingertips, which used to easily make his nails turn black and grow longer, but now it only brought a faint, tingling sensation, like a muscle cramp, without any change whatsoever.
"Feed? Wake up? Dinner's ready?" Cheng Song tried calling out in his mind.
The virus was as still as stagnant water. Only a faint, almost imperceptible lingering sound, like a burp, could be heard. Cheng Song understood.
In the Hatchery instance, this virus first devoured the elite Guardian monster, then indirectly absorbed the power of the Father's projection, and finally even managed to steal the purest Guardian essence from when the Titan's Legacy dissipated. This feast was too much in quantity and too high in quality; it was overeaten.
It enters a deep, forced state of digestion and evolution. Like a snake that has swallowed prey larger than itself, it must find a safe place to concentrate all its energy and functions on digestion, minimizing external stimuli and its own activity.
"Tsk," Cheng Song wiped the water from his face, his expression rather interesting, "I'm basically... raising a patriarch who gets dizzy from carbon monoxide poisoning?"
He sensed it again carefully. Although he couldn't actively use the virus to change its form or devour others, the passive enhancement effects brought about by the symbiosis between the virus and his body seemed to still exist. A Lv5 player's physical attributes were the foundation; on top of that, the virus-enhanced muscle fibers, bone density, nerve reaction speed, healing ability, and so on, were still there. It was just that before it was like having a powered exoskeleton, but now it was back to the path of strengthening the physical body.
Simply put, his current state is:
Level: Lv5
Virus status: Deeply digesting/evolving (unable to actively use abilities such as devouring and transformation)
Current strength: Lv5 physical fitness + body enhanced by the virus passive effect.
"Good heavens," Cheng Song turned off the water, dried himself off, and looked at his pale but muscular body in the mirror, which contained strength far beyond that of ordinary people. "This is forcing me to return to the technical route."
Although we lost the most convenient and violent cheat, upon closer examination, it may not be all a bad thing.
First, the virus's dormancy means the "risk of getting out of control" has been temporarily reduced to a minimum. Mom no longer has to worry about her son suddenly turning into a monster.
Secondly, the physical attributes of a Lv5 player, combined with the passive enhancements from long-term symbiosis with the virus, already make their body monstrous. Strength, speed, and reaction time far surpass ordinary humans, even exceeding many low-level physical-type players or monsters. However, lacking the "one-trick pony" transformation abilities, their combat style relies more heavily on skill, experience, and the weapon at their disposal.
"Perfect timing," Cheng Song thought of the "Thousand Forms" he had just acquired. "New equipment in hand, old skills on cooldown. This is fate."
This "power restriction" might allow him to better conceal himself and blend into the lives of ordinary people. After all, the level of suspicion that a monster who can easily transform into claws to tear apart a car is in the eyes of others is vastly different from that of an auxiliary police officer who is just a little stronger, faster, and more resilient.
"Alright," Cheng Song put on clean clothes, quickly adjusting his mindset, "Just treat it as a version update, a class balance adjustment. I'll temporarily switch from Fury Warrior to Arms Warrior."
He cautiously probed his consciousness towards the new inhabitant of his soul—the star map imprint left by the Titans. He barely touched it before being overwhelmed by a vast, chaotic flow of information, leaving him seeing stars, and quickly withdrew.
"Damn, insufficient permissions, access denied," he muttered. But this thing seemed to have a built-in civilization filter and soul-cooling balm function, which stabilized his consciousness considerably.
After showering, he tiptoed back to his room. Passing the master bedroom, he heard his father's thunderous snoring and his mother's soft breathing. Good, they're both asleep.
He threw himself onto the bed, pulled out his phone which was charging, and turned it on. A buzzing sound followed, and a message from Li Wan popped up. Polite, gentle, with a smiling sun emoji.
Looking at the sun-themed emoji, Cheng Song felt like a mouse that had just crawled out of a gutter and was suddenly invited to a picnic in a sunflower field. He sighed and replied with the social etiquette of a normal human: "Teacher Li, sorry I just saw this. The training ended early. I'm free this afternoon. You can choose the location. Thank you."
After posting, he checked the local news again. "Unexplained noises at night, municipal authorities investigating," "Slight increase in missing pet cases." He paused, combining his memory of crawling out of the sewers with Rong Shou's mention of "low-intensity pollution"... It seemed that beneath the calm surface of this city, some unsavory bubbles were beginning to rise.
Just as I put down my phone, a very short, sharp cry suddenly rang out from the distant darkness outside the window—a cry completely unlike that of a cat, dog, or any creature that should exist in a normal city. The sound vanished in an instant, as fast as a hallucination.
But Cheng Song heard it. His Lv5 hearing allowed him to catch it clearly.
He stared at the inky black night outside the window and remained silent for a few seconds.
"...Alright then," he lay down, pulled up the blanket, "Looks like it's impossible to slack off now."
He set his alarm for noon and closed his eyes. His body screamed for sleep, but his mind was like a ranting session, with all sorts of images and sounds popping out:
Ah Qi's words, "You're not bad." Mi Tong's warning about the storm; the heavy human sentiment of the anvil; the dissipated starlight of the Titan's Legacy; and the giant eye of the loving father that seemed to have eight thousand red-eyed people.
And her mother's relentless pursuit of blind dates, Li Wan's radiant smile, and that blue plaid battle robe that embodied her mother's entire aesthetic sense.
"What kind of mess is this..." Cheng Song buried his face in the pillow. He felt like a stuntman filming on two sets at the same time, one was "Alien vs. Predator" and the other was "Country Love Story". He was so mentally unstable that he needed to be a jigsaw puzzle of personalities.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes and sat up as if he had risen from the dead.
"Wait a minute," he slapped his forehead, his sleepiness mostly gone, "I think I forgot something important..."
He remembered the alluring [B+ Difficulty S-Rank Treasure Chest] in his system inventory. He'd been so busy escaping death at the hatchery, dealing with his mother, and checking his own status that he'd completely forgotten about it.
"Should we open it now? Or wait until we've bathed, changed, burned incense, prayed, and chosen an auspicious day?" Cheng Song looked out at the still-dark night and touched his ribs, which were still throbbing slightly. "Fine, let's do it now. My luck's already bad enough; how much worse can it get? I can't expect to end up with another set of benevolent fatherly gifts, can I?"
With a thought, he brought up the system interface and locked onto the treasure chest that looked plain but had a dark golden glow flowing around its edges.
"Open."
There were no spectacular light and shadow effects, only a slight ripple in space. The treasure chest disappeared silently, like a sandcastle blown away by the wind. In its place were two items, quietly floating in mid-air, emitting distinctly different faint lights.
The first item was a dazzlingly intricate, silvery-white polyhedral crystal, roughly the size of a thumb. It had no physical form, resembling more of a highly condensed mass of light, with countless tiny points of light flowing and connecting along some mysterious trajectory, forming a dynamic, constantly self-checking and balancing three-dimensional pattern. The aura it emitted wasn't powerful, but rather one of ultimate stability, harmony, and order. Just looking at it, Cheng Song felt the somewhat restless virus within his body (due to trace amounts of absorption and evolution) being gently soothed by an invisible force, becoming somewhat docile.
[Gene Mapping Stabilizing Anchor] (Special Implant/Growth Assistance)
Description: A legacy from a vanished super-civilization, containing a stable blueprint for advanced life forms. Upon implantation, it will bind to the host's life essence, providing a powerful stability correction and risk suppression field during profound life form transformations (including but not limited to genetic evolution, energy fusion, and rule alignment). This significantly increases the probability of the transformation developing in an "orderly, controllable, and aligned with the host's fundamental will" direction, and significantly reduces the risks of "loss of control, distortion, and backlash." It does not provide power, but rather paves the safest path for acquiring power.
Note: Safety first on the path of evolution.
"This..." Cheng Song's eyes lit up. Wasn't this exactly what he needed? A built-in, advanced "anti-runaway fuse"! In the future, if he devoured random things or if the virus tried to grow wildly, this thing would come in handy, reducing the risk of him turning into a mindless monster!
Almost without hesitation, he guided the anchor of stability closer to himself with his mind. The silvery-white light merged into his chest like quicksand; there was no pain, only a subtle, cool sensation, as if every cell in his body was being gently combed. He could feel that it hadn't disappeared, but had sunk into the deepest part of his body, establishing a delicate connection with his life core and the massive, dormant viral aggregate within him. It was like installing a top-of-the-line intelligent control system and safety valve into a raging engine.
"Great stuff! The S-rank treasure chest is really something!" Cheng Song perked up and looked at the second item.
The second item was a pair of monocles. The lens was made of some kind of deep purple crystal, and the frame was made of matte metal. The design was simple and even a bit old-fashioned. But when he stared into the lens, he seemed to see countless tiny streams of data and light and shadow flashing by, as if he could see through the surface and look directly at some kind of essence.
[Special Extraction Lens] (Auxiliary Equipment)
Description: An experimental creation by the legendary alchemist Mettle. When a user successfully acquires high-quality nutrients containing special abilities, energy qualities, or fragments of rules through methods such as devouring or absorption, this lens allows for observation and analysis. It assists the user in extracting, analyzing, and purifying the core characteristic of the target from the vast amount of nutrients, transforming it into a more easily understood and absorbed "information package" or "law fragment," greatly reducing the difficulty and time required for the host to master that characteristic. Remaining active uses: 3/3.
Note: A foodie's self-cultivation lies in eating with understanding.
"Specialty Extraction..." Cheng Song picked up the monocle, weighed it in his hand, and felt it was almost weightless. He tried putting it on his left eye. His vision didn't change, but when he focused on his right hand, several lines of subtle, constantly updating data quietly appeared on the lens:
[Observation target: the host itself (local)]
[Main Life Form: Human (Basic Template)]
[Symbiotic/Mutant: Highly Active Phagocytic Chaotic Life Polymer (Blacklight Virus Prototype)]
[Currently resolvable traits: Rapid Healing (low-level), Basic Strength Enhancement (low-level), Localized Morphological Abnormality (low-level)...]
[Warning: The target trait binds too strongly to the host, resulting in low parsing efficiency and a risk of contaminating the host's base template. It is recommended to find fresh external samples for parsing.]
"Wow, it's pretty smart." Cheng Song took off his glasses and carefully put them away. In some ways, this thing was even more appealing to him than the stabilizing anchor!
A stable anchor provides a safety net, ensuring security. A specialized extraction lens, on the other hand, represents efficiency and planning!
This means that from now on, when he devours monsters, it won't just be a matter of luck, randomly gaining some random abilities or simply increasing experience and replenishing energy. He can be more purposeful! For example, if he encounters a monster with exceptionally thick skin and amazing defense, after devouring it, he can use these glasses to try to analyze and extract its indestructible qualities, turning them into skills he can learn and use to enhance his defense! If he encounters a monster skilled in mental attacks, he can try to analyze its mental resistance or soul resilience!
This is a crucial step from passively devouring random evolution to actively hunting and targeted enhancement! It can greatly make up for his current shortcomings of having messy abilities and lacking systematic planning.
"B+ difficulty, S rating, definitely worth the effort." Looking at the two loot items in his hands, Cheng Song felt much less tired. One item resolved his worries, and the other pointed him in the right direction. This dungeon run was worth it.
He stored his glasses in his system space and lay down again. This time, his mindset was different.
Within, a stable anchor rests. Ahead, an extraction lens guides the way. The path to upgrade is no longer uncertain.
Although there's a blind date this afternoon that's practically a boss battle, although the Reaper forces and pollution are still lurking in the shadows of the city, and although an incomprehensible interstellar treasure map is still etched into my soul...
"Let's take it one step at a time." Cheng Song closed his eyes, finally relaxing. "Let's finish the daily dungeons first."
The sky outside the window slowly changed from an inky black to a dirty rag gray. The early birds and the even earlier cleaners began to make subtle noises.
In the fierce struggle between his body going on strike and his mind going into overdrive, Cheng Song's consciousness finally and reluctantly went offline.
The last conscious thought before falling asleep was:
A few hours later, he would have to wear that "Mom's Hope" battle uniform, his face showing signs of having stayed up for three consecutive nights, and go to a girl who probably thought he was just an ordinary auxiliary police officer. In an atmosphere filled with caffeine and capitalist petit-bourgeois sentiment, he would engage in a standard human social ritual about "Is your job stable?", "Do you own a house and a car?", and "What are your future plans?"
"If this blind date works out," he thought vaguely, "then the matchmaker isn't tying a red thread, he's tying a damn steel bar."