Chapter Eight: The Mutated Zombies

What on earth is that monstrous thing!

Behind Li Feidao loomed a mass of flesh, over two meters in diameter, its surface a glistening, blood-red hue, faint blue veins bulging beneath the skin. Tubes protruded from the grotesque mound, snaking into the other side of the meat, and around each tube, rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth bristled—not the fangs of a beast, but serrated like a shark’s, densely packed and unnervingly sharp. The sight alone sent a chill crawling across the scalp. Yet more horrifying was that this immense mass of flesh was writhing its way toward them.

A horror so unspeakable that, were it to appear in a film, the censors would surely erase it, now manifested before their eyes. Everyone was struck dumb, paralyzed by shock and confusion. Suddenly, they realized in terror that they could barely move at all; it was as if some binding spell had seized them, locking their bodies in place. No matter how they tried to will themselves, their limbs would not obey. They had lost command over their own bodies.

This realization left them drenched in cold sweat, their eyes darting frantically with mounting fear and despair. Even Qi Xi, faced with this, could only furrow his brow; despite his efforts, he found he could move nothing but a single finger. This shouldn’t be possible… Qi Xi stared, bewildered, at the mass of flesh, gradually realizing that, no matter how the thing seemed to squirm closer, it never moved from its spot—it merely appeared to march in place.

Meanwhile, the others, watching the relentless approach of the flesh, were already halfway scared out of their wits. It seemed a matter of time before the terror itself would kill or render them unconscious. Li Feidao, still standing at the doorway, had long since realized he could not move. Beads of sweat streamed down his forehead as he stared at the approaching horror, waves of dread crashing over him.

Qi Xi activated his world-data perception and analyzed the monster.

[Name: Mutated Psychic Wave Attacking Zombie]
[Type: Monster]
[Attribute: Psychic]
[Attack: Having lost its viral infection ability, it can now only use psychic assaults to frighten, paralyzing its victims with fear until they fall unconscious, at which point it dares to attack.]
[Defense: Not worth mentioning.]
[Agility: At best, a brisk walking speed.]
[Notes: The virus has mutated, causing bizarre changes in zombies. This one can kill by exploiting human terror.]

So it was nothing more than a paper tiger.

In truth, this horrific appearance was not even the monster’s real form. Let’s call it a “psychic zombie” for convenience. The terrifying visage was merely the shape of a nightmare, conjured by the deepest fears of those present.

“Everyone, calm down,” Qi Xi said.

The moment he discerned the monster’s oddities, he found himself able to move again. With the mystery unraveled, his fear dissipated, and with no fear, his body was his own once more.

The others, startled by his words, stared in disbelief as Qi Xi moved freely. Fear still gripped them as they watched the mass of flesh writhe closer, but seeing Qi Xi nonchalantly reach into his pocket sparked a fragile hope. Was this the savior they needed? What secret weapon did he have?

Qi Xi produced… a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes. Everyone’s eyes widened in disbelief, momentarily petrified. What in the world was Qi Xi doing? Yet he paid no heed to their agitation, calmly taking out a lighter, lighting his cigarette, inhaling deeply, and exhaling a curl of smoke. His seemingly mad behavior distracted the group, and with their attention diverted, their terror began to ebb.

Cigarette between his fingers, Qi Xi glanced at the flesh—no need for lengthy explanations. His wild guesses and sixth sense would never make sense to these people. Why didn’t the monstrous flesh strike, despite its terrifying presence? It was a flaw only he had noticed. Suddenly, he called out, “Xigua, get over here and deal with this thing, quickly.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a figure flashed forward, blade glinting coldly. With a swift slash, the abomination was cleaved in two. The instant the monstrous flesh vanished, the group saw through the ruse—the truth now obvious, impossible to ignore.

The terrifying zombie was gone, replaced by a dwarfish figure barely a meter tall. On closer inspection, it was an old human man, hair gray and face ashen, eyes cloudy. The strike just now had severed his head from his neck—he was unmistakably, irretrievably dead.

“What just happened?” muttered Liang Fei, bewildered. She abruptly realized she could move again and stumbled back several steps, still overcome by shock and suspicion.

She was evidently faint-hearted, but the other two women—Xiao Fengyu and Qiu Xiaoyan—were anything but timid. Having noticed the strangeness, they approached to examine the little old man’s corpse, pondering this bizarre affair.

“It seems this zombie trapped us in an illusion and paralyzed our bodies,” Xiao Fengyu murmured.

“Exactly right,” Qi Xi nodded, casting a glance at Xigua, who was cleaning his dagger. He frowned and asked, “Why so slow?”

To have gone ahead to deal with the zombie, only to bungle it and let it charge them—was this the work of a seasoned reincarnator? It was far too careless. After all, with the advantage of a previous life, shouldn’t a reincarnator effortlessly seize every opportunity, control everything at will, and coolly predict the next move? Shouldn’t they be the kind to say, “This will happen next, then you’ll die, and you over there will meet your end because of such-and-such”—the arrogant, omniscient type?

Xigua’s performance was hardly impressive. Even without firsthand experience, anyone who’d read enough reincarnation novels would know better. Compare what others do to what he did—it’s plain as day.

Though Xigua had dispatched the zombie, he scratched his head sheepishly, chuckling and dodging the question, not daring to retort. After all, the veteran is always right. As a newcomer, listening to the experience of one’s elders is the surest path to progress.

Seeing Xigua’s evasiveness, Qi Xi shook his head and decided not to lecture the rookie any further. To push it would be bullying, especially since, in this world, he still needed the reincarnator’s help to seize the world’s essence more easily.

“Go wash up,” Qi Xi said, tossing him a cigarette. Xigua caught it with one hand, then deftly snagged the lighter Qi Xi threw next, lighting up before tossing the lighter back and heading to the bathroom.

“The restroom is over there, around the corner to the right, just ahead—” Li Feidao began to say, only to be cut off by Qi Xi: “He knows where it is.”

“How does he know?” Li Feidao blurted out in confusion.

Qi Xi considered for a moment—he couldn’t very well say Xigua was a reincarnator with memories from a past life. He could only put on a mysterious air and reply, “Why does he know? Because he is Xi Hongchen.”

Li Feidao was left speechless, but after a moment’s thought, the explanation almost seemed to make sense. With Xi Hongchen’s skills, it was only natural.