Chapter 137: The Great Fire |
Bai Mu's attention focused on the gray rat. The creature's name had changed from "Gray Rat" to "Spore-Infected Gray Rat".
[Name: Spore-Infected Gray Rat]
[Type: Creature]
[Note: For it, death is not the end.]
The white mycelium had taken deep root inside the gray rat's body. A patch of fur on its back had been rubbed off. During the day, intense itching had driven it to constantly scratch itself against rough surfaces, rubbing itself raw until it bled and the flesh beneath its coat was exposed.
Traces of a fungal infection had appeared there, resembling ringworm.
Wearing gloves, Bai Mu carefully touched the gray rat. Its entire body was cold, and its heart had stopped beating, yet its blood hadn't coagulated. It seemed to still be flowing through its veins.
Aside from the fungal ringworm, there were no signs of decay on its body.
It behaved like a normal rat, showing no abnormal behavior despite the infection.
'Doppelgangers have the same body temperature as normal humans, but this gray rat has gone cold. Is it because the transformation hasn't fully completed yet?'
Bai Mu picked up the gray rat to test its reaction to food. It still ate crackers, its chewing function was normal, and it reacted normally to sound. However, its sense of touch seemed to have developed some issues. It appeared to feel no pain; even when Bai Mu pinched its neck with some force, it showed no extra reaction.
Bai Mu took out a small knife and pricked the rat's paw. The blade pierced its flesh, but it neither flinched nor squeaked. It merely struggled in Bai Mu's grip, trying to escape.
When Bai Mu released it, it scurried back into the corner of the box. He also noticed that it had developed a peculiar dependence on that mushroom. It constantly circled around it, and when Bai Mu reached out to grab the mushroom, the rat displayed clear aggression, trying to bite his hand.
Naturally, it failed. It was just a palm-sized rat, and with a casual movement, Bai Mu pinned it firmly under his hand.
"This mushroom... feels like very bad news. It's practically like a Zombie virus," Bai Mu muttered, resealing the box and locking it in the deepest part of the cabinet.
Bai Mu wrote down everything he had just observed in his observation diary.
He believed he could find the same traits in Doppelgangers. Those creatures were likely also highly insensitive to pain. They might be able to fake the facial expressions and reactions of an injured normal person, but superficial wounds would probably have minimal effect on them.
He decided to wait a few more days to see what the gray rat would ultimately become.
At 9:30 PM, Bai Mu returned to the living room, reclined on the mattress, and entered a state of light sleep.
He had muted the television, keeping a program running to provide faint illumination. The grayish-white light from the electronic screen cast his shadow across the room.
The sound of the wind sweeping past could be heard outside. Because of the drastic temperature difference between day and night, the wind howled whenever the temperature plummeted after dark.
A rhythmic dripping echoed from the bathroom. Water that had evaporated and condensed on the cistern lid continuously fell—a sound that felt eternal, as if it would never stop.
The house was incredibly quiet, so quiet that it felt unsettling.
Bai Mu didn't like this deathly silence. He thought of Da Huang again. When that loyal countryside mutt was still alive, he could always hear the dog's panting and breathing at night.
Da Huang would sleep by his feet. When it woke up, it would pant enthusiastically and lick Bai Mu's hand.
He felt a bit nostalgic for those days, the goofy canine face surfacing in his mind.
'I'll go ask those three kids tomorrow if they're willing to move in,' Bai Mu planned in his mind. 'Given the time, they probably don't have many crackers left.'
Tomorrow would mark the third day since the woman's death. Fifteen bags of compressed biscuits split among three children—assuming they each ate two bags a day, they would go through six bags daily. Three days would require eighteen bags of biscuits to survive. By tomorrow evening, they would realize they didn't have enough food.
They should also be realizing their predicament by now. When the time came, Bai Mu could just give them a little push, which should be enough to convince them to move over.
Taking care of three children meant taking on a heavier burden with supplies, but it would also add a bit of life to this house.
In truth, for a normal person in this kind of environment, loneliness and isolation were also formidable enemies.
Of course, that wasn't the case for Players. As a Player, Bai Mu had a concrete goal. He knew that surviving for fifty days would allow him to leave the Script; that was his way out and his finish line.
But for the rest of the people in this city, they had no idea when this disaster would end, living every day in anxiety and dread.
Those three children who had lost their father and mother were undoubtedly trapped in this magnified anxiety over the past few days.
At a time like this, the appearance of a reliable adult would undoubtedly be a beacon of immense hope for them.
'There are forty-five days left,' Bai Mu calculated silently.
Time ticked by, and drowsiness washed over him. But suddenly, a glow—unrelated to the television screen—flickered against his closed eyelids.
Bai Mu snapped wide awake. Gripping his Baseball Bat and the revolver in his pocket, he sprang up from the mattress.
In a single second, he entered a state of combat readiness. This unnatural light had triggered his alarm bells. He listened closely to his surroundings, but all he heard were the ordinary sounds of the wind and dripping water.
There were no footsteps or unusual noises around his house. The light was coming from outside the window—it was the glow of a fire!
Bai Mu tore back the curtains and saw a raging inferno.
It wasn't his house that had caught fire; it was the house with the red roof.
The place where those three children lived was ablaze. The flames were spreading from the right side of the building, churning out thick, black smoke, and the tongues of fire were about to climb onto the roof.
Bai Mu hadn't expected a massive fire to break out in the middle of the night. The moment he saw the flames, he burst out the front door and rushed toward it.
He wasn't sure what had started the blaze, but the Side Quest "Dying with a grievance" hadn't shown as failed yet, meaning the three children weren't dead.
Bai Mu sprinted into their courtyard and saw two men dressed like homeless vagrants walking out of the front door. In that instant, a surge of fury gripped him.
The two vagrants wore grinning expressions, carelessly stuffing opened packages of compressed biscuits into their mouths.
They were carrying two small children's backpacks. At the same time, one of them pulled out a lighter to light a cigarette for the other.
From Bai Mu's observations, Doppelgangers didn't smoke, nor did they like eating compressed biscuits. Like wild beasts, they much preferred flesh and blood.
These two vagrants were not Doppelgangers; they were human. And it was precisely because they were human that Bai Mu felt such intense fury.