Monster (8)

Xue Ning recalled the way the researcher had looked at her, and her mood plummeted to its lowest point. That gaze was as if she were a patient on the verge of a mental collapse, one who might do something unpredictable at any moment.

In truth, Xue Ning had done nothing but share her suspicions with the researcher. His expression had grown grim, seeming displeased with her insistence on the subject of Test Subject 01, but he patiently explained, “Xue Ning, I think you need some rest.”

“The Butcher is extremely hazardous to the human psyche. Those whose minds are contaminated by it teeter on the edge of losing control. The test subject contains the Butcher’s genes, and prolonged exposure carries a risk of contamination as well.”

“The assistant who released the test subject during the blackout was a direct result of psychic contamination.”

To prevent another such incident, the laboratory had conducted psychological evaluations for everyone. As expected, Xue Ning’s results raised concerns—her anxiety index was high, though not critical. The researcher insisted she take medical leave.

Thus, Xue Ning had no choice but to go home and “recuperate.”

Lying on her bed, staring at the clammy, damp wall, Xue Ning’s eyelids twitched. Suddenly, she grabbed her hair on both sides, the pain from her scalp helping her regain some calm. The laboratory’s devastation had little to do with her, but if the test subject were ever to break free and begin its slaughter, would she be safe?

Xue Ning had no desire to face death a second time.

But no one listened to her warnings—what else could she do?

She pulled back the curtain and glanced outside; the sky was still bright, the air humid and oppressive. Irritated, she yanked the curtain shut with a hiss, burying herself under the covers. The cramped room, the narrow bed, not even enough space to toss and turn.

The longer she stayed, the more restless she became. She decided to take a walk outside.

She grabbed her identity card—there was money loaded on it.

The residential district was quite different from her previous world. Only a single convenience store was open, offering few goods, and there were no basic entertainment facilities. Working at the research institute was clearly an enviable job. Others could only take on government-issued tasks—maintaining the fortress’s infrastructure or joining the military in clearing Butchers from the surface.

To have a stable job was the height of fortune.

By observing the spirits of passersby, one could easily judge their standard of living. Those with stable jobs—skilled workers, repairmen, or factory employees essential to the fortress—appeared thin but at least clean, with some spare funds to purchase goods instead of surviving solely on government rations.

If one encountered the unemployed—those scraping by on sporadic government assignments—they were often underfed and unkempt. These were the people to be wary of.

Though the military maintained order, the residential district was far from the center. Unless something threatened the fortress itself, intervention was rarely swift.

Xue Ning avoided a few people who tried to approach her and slipped into the only open convenience store.

She needed a bit of retail therapy to soothe her nerves.

The meager selection of bland foods only increased her frustration. She grabbed several flavors of compressed biscuits at random, wishing for some instant noodles. Since arriving here, she hadn’t tasted any food with real flavor. Taking a deep breath, she picked up a few daily necessities as well.

She checked out and left.

Her steps faltered. She couldn’t help but recall the researcher’s indescribable expression as he looked at her, doubting her sanity. Now, Xue Ning began to wonder—was there truly something wrong with her mind?

Otherwise, why did that familiar, chilling sense of being watched return?

This was the residential district, not the lab.

She breathed a little easier as she glanced at the plastic bag in her hand, stuffed with food and daily items. The transparent bag barely concealed anything, the compressed biscuits piled high within.

Food was a precious resource—even in the residential district, it could be the target of theft. Perhaps that persistent, shadowy gaze belonged to someone who had watched her enter the store, waiting for a chance to rob her.

As long as it wasn’t the test subject, Xue Ning relaxed—completely ignoring the shiver running through her body and the goosebumps on her arms, or the way her heart was racing.

She continued toward home, turning down a side street to try to shake off whoever might be following her.

The specially treated overhead lights blazed like daylight, casting a shadow behind Xue Ning—a large, sturdy figure. She quickly abandoned any thoughts of confrontation, slipping into an alley before her pursuer could catch up, ducking into a random building.

Leaning against a corner, she watched the road through the window.

The fortress knew only day or night, never dusk. As long as it was day, the lights shone with relentless brightness. The shadow remained outside, not entering the building but lingering near the residential block. Its dark, heavy presence filled Xue Ning with inexplicable unease.

She waited until the shadow finally disappeared before leaving the building. Without pausing, she returned to the path leading to her home—only to freeze in her tracks.

At the entrance to her building stood a man.

He was tall, his shadow sprawling like some deep-sea monster. Maybe he’d stepped in a puddle along the way; a slick patch of water glistened at his feet, giving off a clammy, fishy sensation.

He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled low, shadow hiding his eyes and brows; only his lips and jaw were visible. The baggy clothes could not conceal his striking, powerful physique.

He looked clean—not likely her pursuer.

But Xue Ning knew better than to judge hastily, especially in times like these.

Even if he looked like someone the military or security forces might recruit, something about his behavior set her on edge. Why was he blocking the entrance?

Dressed in black, face obscured, a puddle of something ominously familiar at his feet—Xue Ning felt a chill of recognition.

Was she really losing her mind, seeing the test subject from Room 01 in everyone?

She pinched the bridge of her nose and walked forward.

At that moment, a sticky, chilling gaze brushed over her, like a spider’s thread.

The man at the entrance, his nose straight and features dignified even glimpsed in passing, gave an impression of rectitude—yet he behaved like a creature skulking in the dark, flaring his nostrils as if scenting the air. It was a repulsive action, but in his case, there was something sinister and unnerving about it, enough to make Xue Ning break out in goosebumps.

She stopped abruptly. Every instinct screamed at her not to approach, that this man was dangerous.

Yes—dangerous.

Just being looked at by him sent a cold sweat pouring down her back, soaking her clothes, her heart beating more frantically than it ever had in the lab, even when facing Test Subject 01.

In the lab, danger could be anticipated, and she had measures to cope. Here, among ordinary residents, she could handle most threats—but this man at the entrance, she couldn’t possibly classify as ordinary.

His gaze was strange—gloomy, icy, instantly recalling for her the sensation of walking darkened corridors slick with slime.

This couldn’t go on.

She silently wished for more people to appear on the street, to give her a chance to slip away. But time passed, and no one came—only her and the man remained.

Perhaps it was best to return to the convenience store for now.

As she was about to turn away, the man moved. He walked forward, and to her dismay, chose her little alleyway, heading straight for her.

Should she run?

But her feet were rooted to the spot, her limbs numb—just his gaze was enough to rob her of control. Alarm bells clamored in her mind. She bit down hard on her tongue, and as pain flared, she managed to turn, poised to run—when a heavy, almost physical pressure pressed in from beside her.

She glanced over, scalp prickling—at some point, the man had stopped at her side, separated by only an arm’s length.

The dampness grew oppressive; she heard the soft, wet sounds of water dripping to the ground. The man’s breathing was close, cold against her ear, making her feel as though she’d plunged into an icy lake. Her forehead was slick with sweat, yet she lacked even the courage to wipe it away.

Her grip on the plastic bag was white-knuckled. She swallowed hard. The man was still staring at her, and at this distance, escape was impossible. She regretted not bringing a knife—she’d left in haste, and had nothing at hand.

Then came a strange sound from the man. Xue Ning focused on him; it was easy to pinpoint the source—he was sniffing her scent.

No normal person would do that.

Was he a pervert?

Unable to run, with nothing to defend herself and him looking so strong, Xue Ning pressed her lips together, feeling her head about to explode.

Steeling herself, she slowly turned to face him, staring at the half of his face that was visible, and forced herself to speak. “Uh… h-hello?”

The man said nothing. Xue Ning took a step back, then another. Still no response.

Apparently, he wasn’t after her. She exhaled, murmured a goodbye, and decided to ignore this bizarre man.

She silently counted the steps as she moved to leave, but then he suddenly spoke.

“Mm.” It was so curt that she couldn’t make sense of it.

Without looking back, Xue Ning walked away.

His stare clung to her like a shadow. He lifted his head slightly; beneath the brim, his eyes were shot through with blood-red lines, rusted like old iron. His nostrils flared wider as she moved away, his face darkening, his gaze icy and so heavy it seemed to drip with moisture.

He stood there, motionless, until the overhead lights went out and darkness enveloped him. He watched as a window in the building lit up—a window whose scent was so strong he couldn’t tear himself away. A silhouette appeared against the glass, quickly hidden by drawn curtains.

His lips twitched, as if imitating something, and slowly curved into a smile. In a hoarse, awkward voice, he repeated:

“Hello.”