The intelligence Tang Chen relayed quickly reached the Alliance’s high-level meeting table.
“Hmm, so he’s been discovered? Well, we can’t blame him for that,” the middle-aged man seated at the head of the table sighed lightly. Folding his hands and propping his chin, he scanned the gathered representatives. “Now, fellow council members, what are your thoughts on the current acting chairman of Third Eye, Dr. Leon, and his proposals?”
“What thoughts could we possibly have? Other than uniting to face external threats, is there even a second option?” said the man seated to his right with a resigned shake of his head.
“Prime Minister, I propose that the Alliance initiate its own research project. We can’t put all our eggs in one basket,” suggested a young man standing up from the far end of the table.
The middle-aged man nodded. “Preparations for such a project began as soon as Tang Chen sent back his intelligence.”
“The next agenda item,” he continued, “is the handling of the Huigui Sect.”
The atmosphere in the room immediately grew tense.
Religious issues were always delicate, especially with the Huigui Sect. Over the years, their infiltration into the Alliance had been like water eroding stone—gradual yet relentless. Without realizing it, even the attitudes of some officials had begun to waver.
The middle-aged man’s gaze swept over the gathered representatives. On the surface, none showed any abnormalities, but he narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “Today is different from before. The threat of genocide looms before us. I hope everyone remembers their identity as humans. I’ll say no more.”
When the meeting adjourned, the representatives left in a hurry. A few were already pondering how to inform the sects that had supported their rise, unaware that Death’s scythe was already hovering nearby.
The Alliance soon launched its own campaign to purge and expel the Huigui Sect, but their situation was far more complex than Third Eye’s, making it much harder to take decisive actions akin to cutting off a tail to save the body.
With religious sites forcibly closed and the sect’s leadership arrested, misled sect followers began organizing protests and demonstrations, escalating to smashing shops and causing riots. The Alliance government showed no leniency—law enforcement arrested everyone involved, plunging the central city into chaos.
“Prime Minister, isn’t this approach a bit too aggressive?” his assistant hesitantly asked. “With protests happening everywhere, perhaps a more measured approach would be better for navigating this period.”
The middle-aged man stood at the base of the government’s high-rise building, gazing at the protesters sitting outside its gates. In a low voice, he replied, “I’m afraid we don’t have much time left.”
His assistant looked puzzled.
The middle-aged man’s gaze turned to the distant horizon.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Winter’s heavy clouds had parted, rare sunlight breaking through. Even the temperature had risen noticeably, drawing more people into the streets.
This year’s winter was much warmer than usual.
Would that mean spring would arrive much earlier as well?
His eyes lingered on the snow-covered mountains in the distance. Since the mushroom invasion a century ago, the vegetation and forests had grown unusually lush.
At that moment, a snowflake, warmed by the sunlight, melted into water and dripped onto the ground.
Beneath the surface, mushroom mycelium began to stir, minuscule yet active.
The Prime Minister’s worries were well-founded.
This year’s higher temperatures meant that some mushrooms were not rendered inactive by the cold. Quietly, they lay dormant underground, awaiting orders from the King of Mushroom’s network.
The King of Mushroom had grown tired of this game of hide-and-seek.
This time, its focus was on the most numerous, widespread, and only species beyond its control—humans.
Due to its nature, the King of Mushroom required vast amounts of nutrient-rich biological material to grow, and humans were undoubtedly among the finest sources.
Devouring them all at once would be wasteful, but with time running short, it was finally time to close the net.
The Human Alliance referred to the largest cluster of human settlements surviving on the Eurasian continent.
Centered in the Alliance’s Central District, its territory expanded outward like satellites. It consisted of nine large bases, numbered 01 to 09, each surrounded by several smaller bases of varying sizes. Beyond these were small settlements near the bases, often established by opportunists or those unwilling to submit to the Alliance, housing wanderers, and exiled criminals.
After establishing the partnership, the Alliance responded swiftly. In addition to purging the Huigui Sect's followers internally, factories were quickly mobilized to mass-produce machines capable of detecting the zombie mushrooms.
One of the rare pieces of good news was that Dr. Feng Shuyun’s invention could still identify the stages of infection. The Alliance government issued an ultimatum, mandating all bases to conduct thorough inspections.
While those on the ground didn’t understand the full reasoning, they followed orders and began the inspection work.
“What a hassle. What are those guys up top even thinking?” a member of the patrol unit grumbled while driving. “People already go through inspections when entering or leaving the base. Besides, it’s winter—freezing cold. How could any infected sneak in?”
“No choice; it’s their job. We have to comply,” said another.
“In this freezing weather, the infected can’t even move outside. If they want to find any, they should be looking out there,” complained a blond-haired man.
“Enough. Stop whining. Let’s just finish the job and head back,” the captain, seated in the driver’s seat, said coldly.
When their vehicle stopped at a residential area, the district committee chairman was already there to greet them enthusiastically. “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for your hard work!”
“Alright, cut the chatter and take us to start the inspections,” the blond-haired man said impatiently, eager to finish the task and head home to rest.
“Of course, of course, this way.”
“No one’s been tipped off, right? Everyone’s here?”
“Of course not! I wouldn’t dare. I told them it was for resource distribution, calculated per head, so I ensured all the residents are present.”
The captain nodded in satisfaction.
The inspection began. It primarily involved using machines for testing, with supplies distributed afterward. Initially, the residents were wary about providing blood samples, but the allure of resources silenced most objections. Some asked what the tests were for, and just as the blond-haired man was about to answer, the captain covered his mouth and replied with a smile, “We’re testing for superpowers. You know, the military is always short-handed. If anyone qualifies, the whole family can move to the central district.”
“Oh, I see,” said one woman, staring at the green screen with a mix of regret and reluctance. “So, I didn’t make it?”
“Afraid not.”
“Sigh, what a pity.”
House by house, they proceeded.
As expected, nearly all results showed the green indicator for no infection, which relaxed the patrol team. The blond-haired man muttered, “I told you, there’s no way anyone here is infected. People aren’t stupid. If someone turned infected, they’d definitely report it. Plus, infected individuals make a lot of noise.”
The captain privately agreed but refrained from joining the complaints about their superiors. “Only a few houses left. Let’s wrap this up. When we’re done, hotpot’s on me.”
“Woohoo!”
“Captain for the win!”
The mood lightened considerably, with the team enthusiastically discussing what to order. The captain smiled, letting them have their fun.
The last two houses were on the outskirts of the residential area. One was a small single-story building. The chairman explained, “No need to check here. It’s just a father and son. The father works with you at the checkpoint. Poor guy lost his wife to illness, and now it’s just the two of them. Recently, he’s been on leave, probably because the child is sick.”
“We’re already here. Might as well check,” said the blond-haired man, not in a rush anymore.
The chairman nodded and knocked on the door. A man appeared in the doorway, peering out cautiously without saying much.
“Niu Kaiyuan, what are you doing? Open the door. It’s for resource distribution!”
“Just leave the supplies at the door, Chairman,” Niu Kaiyuan, replied from inside, his voice muffled. “My kid’s sick and not feeling well. I’m afraid it’s contagious, so I won’t open the door.”
The blond-haired man and the captain exchanged a glance.
Despite the dim light inside, they could see Niu Kaiyuan standing tensely.
“Well, if your child is sick, this is perfect timing,” said the captain. “Open the door, and we’ll do a full check-up. Or we can take the child to the hospital to avoid worsening the condition.”
Hearing this, the man inside didn’t move to open the door. Instead, the crack in the doorway seemed to shrink further. “No need. We’ve already been to the doctor. They said rest is all that’s needed.”
The captain signaled to the blond-haired man with his eyes. The blond-haired man immediately understood, moving to a blind spot in the man’s view and suddenly ramming the door.
Niu Kaiyuan was caught off guard as the door burst open. The captain and the others rushed into the house, scanning the surroundings.
The house was plain, with sparse furnishings. In the center was a bed, and under the covers, a figure was curled up tightly, face and form obscured. Hearing the commotion, the figure clutched the blanket fearfully.
The blond-haired man immediately drew his gun and approached. Seeing the weapon, Niu Kaiyuan shouted in panic, “Don’t, don’t hurt my child!”
“Dad,” the person under the covers called out in a tearful voice, clearly terrified by the sudden intrusion.
The blond-haired man froze upon hearing the voice, instinctively lowering his gun.
It was common knowledge that infected individuals had no rationality.
“Don’t be scared, kiddo. We’re not bad people. We’re just here to do a check-up,” the blond-haired man said as he moved around the bed, attempting to pull back the blanket.
Niu Kaiyuan, already restrained on the ground by other team members, struggled desperately. “What are you doing? Get out of my house!”
The others began to sense something strange. The blond-haired man yanked the blanket away, only to be utterly shocked by the sight that greeted him.
A human infected with the mushroom.
The child under the blanket appeared to be about five years old. Most of their exposed skin was covered in dense mushroom growths. A missing eye hung loosely, and fear etched the child's partially intact face.
The blond-haired man instinctively covered his mouth and nose, stepping back a full pace and aiming his gun at the child. “Deeply infected!”
No… wait. Why wasn’t a deeply infected individual behaving like the others?
Infected individuals were known to lose all rationality, attacking anyone indiscriminately—regardless of age or relationship. Yet this child merely clutched their head, whimpering pitifully.
Hearing the sobs, Niu Kaiyuan, previously pinned to the floor, suddenly surged with strength, almost throwing off those holding him down. He desperately crawled toward the bed. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt him! He’s my child! He’s human! He calls me Dad! He’s not infected!”
“Are you blind? The infection is obvious! How can you not tell?” The blond-haired man had already put on his mask, and the others quickly opened the windows to ventilate the room. Their expressions were grim as they glanced at the child in shock.
“Captain, what do we do?”
“According to protocol, all infected individuals are to be terminated immediately upon discovery,” the captain said gravely.
He looked at the terrified child, and his heart sank. Now he understood why the higher-ups had emphasized that infected individuals should be dealt with swiftly and without hesitation.
But no one had warned them that infected individuals might regain consciousness. This was a new and troubling complication.
The blond-haired man saw the tears welling in the child’s remaining eye and hesitated, but he unlocked the safety on his weapon.
“Please! We’ll leave! We’ll go far away! Just spare us!” Niu Kaiyuan begged desperately. “Su Su, beg them! Show them you’re still human!”
“Uncle, please let me go,” the child sobbed. “Uncle, it hurts so much. I didn’t do anything wrong. I just want my dad!”
“I’m begging you!” Niu Kaiyuan repeatedly bowed his head to the ground, so hard it began to bleed. “He still has memories, he still has a mind! He won’t hurt anyone—he’s my son!”
The small room descended into chaos—a pitiful father and son, a bewildered district chairman, and a team stuck between conflicting duties.
The captain couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh in his heart. What kind of world was this?
If infected individuals had regained consciousness, were they still considered enemies? Could they really bring themselves to harm someone who might still be one of them?
Several questions lingered in the minds of the patrol team members, subtly shaking their once unshakable beliefs and values.
Similar scenarios were unfolding across various bases.
Conscious infected individuals found ways to approach their loved ones, and those loved ones, swayed by emotion, often struggled to act against them. Some even harbored infected individuals within the bases or outright betrayed humanity and became infected themselves.
This winter, several small settlements disappeared without a trace.
“We now interrupt with breaking news. The Alliance Government has an important announcement. Recent research indicates that some infected individuals have regained consciousness. However, despite this, they are still under the control of the mushroom in their brains. Citizens are urged not to be deceived by infected individuals. Let me repeat: if you discover anyone in contact with or harboring infected individuals, please report to patrol personnel immediately.”
In the cafeteria of the Third Eye Research Facility, all the researchers paused their meals to watch the news broadcast on the screen.
“So it’s finally starting,” Lodge sighed. “The outside is about to descend into chaos.”
“You’d better pray it doesn’t spill over into here,” Aberk responded.
“Leon should have everything in place by now. If infected individuals still manage to sneak in after all those precautions, there’d be no excuse for it,” Lodge said.
“True enough.”
Tang Xiao stood up.
“Where are you going?” Lodge asked warily.
“Finished eating. Back to work.”
“That’s all you’re eating?” Lodge glanced at Tang Xiao’s plate. “You barely touched it.”
“Not hungry.” Tang Xiao exhaled slowly. “I need to get back to work.”
Lodge stared at Tang Xiao’s tired and haggard face, noticing how much he had deteriorated in just a few days. Knowing Tang Xiao had been working under intense pressure, Lodge bit his lip, unable to come up with words to stop him. “Fine, let’s go back.”
Progress on the project was far from promising.
When Tang Xiao returned to his workstation, someone from the team was always on duty. Shifts were arranged to ensure the equipment was running almost non-stop.
But scientific breakthroughs don’t come just from hard work.
Tang Xiao stared at the newly completed genetic sequencing of an infected individual, rendered speechless.
At that moment, he realized with chilling clarity: that the King of Mushroom’s understanding of human genetics may have already surpassed that of humanity itself.
He thought of his paper published in Nature and couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. After all, mushrooms feed on DNA—it’s their specialty.
To put it metaphorically, if the human body is a computer and DNA is its code, zombie mushrooms are a malware program that corrupts and controls the system. The King of Mushroom, however, operates at the level of a world-class hacker, while humanity’s understanding of its own ‘computer’ is akin to that of a beginner.
How could they hope to succeed within half a year?
Despair began to creep in, but Tang Xiao took a deep breath, forcing himself to suppress his sinking emotions.
There was no retreat left.
The joys and sorrows of humans and mushrooms were utterly incompatible.
As Tang Xiao labored under immense pressure in the laboratory, within a single-occupancy room of the researcher apartments set up for the Hope Project by the Third Eye, a peculiar scene unfolded.
A blood-red mycelium extended tendrils as it moved about, tidying up the space.
It mopped the floor, washed clothes, and made the bed.
Noticing the time had passed at midnight, the mycelium darted quickly around the room.
Towel, fresh clothes, turning on the air conditioning, and setting out slippers.
All confirmed.
Jun Tesi placed his hand by the air conditioner’s vent, frowning slightly as he gauged the temperature. After adjusting it one degree higher, he nodded in satisfaction.
Footsteps sounded near the doorway, and Jun Tesi immediately turned a hopeful gaze toward it. When the door opened, Tang Xiao walked in, utterly exhausted. His vacant expression suggested he didn’t even register Jun Tesi’s presence. Like a phone about to power down with its battery completely drained, he moved instinctively to the single bed and collapsed onto it.
Jun Tesi quickly caught Tang Xiao’s body, using soft mycelium to support him. With practiced ease, he slipped off Tang Xiao’s shoes, replaced them with slippers, and removed the lab coat, tossing it into the washing machine.
Multiple strands of mycelium extended from Jun Tesi’s back to perform various tasks: massaging, changing Tang Xiao’s clothes, adjusting the bathroom’s water temperature, and gently undressing him. Then, after a quick rinse with the showerhead, Jun Tesi placed him in a preheated bathtub.
The series of actions was smooth and uninterrupted, so much so that Tang Xiao didn’t wake up. By the time he roused from his state of exhaustion-induced shutdown, he found himself soaking in warm water.
This is bad—so comfortable I might pass out again.
Tang Xiao felt his eyelids drooping and pinched himself to stay awake.
“Xiaoxiao,” Jun Tesi called out, his orange-yellow eyes fixed on Tang Xiao as he pressed buttons on the washing machine. Noticing Tang Xiao’s struggle to stay awake, Jun Tesi leaned over. “Are you hungry, or just tired?”
His gaze was so serious that it seemed as if a mere word from Tang Xiao could conjure a feast or have him dried off and tucked into a pre-warmed bed—all without lifting a finger himself.
Tang Xiao: “......”
Though the care was thorough, Tang Xiao couldn’t help but occasionally wonder if Jun Tesi’s attention might spoil him into helplessness.
Since taking charge of the project, Tang Xiao had spent nearly 18 hours a day in the lab, returning home utterly drained and unwilling to move a single muscle.
Jun Tesi knew how exhausted Tang Xiao was and how heavy his burden was. At first, he refrained from disturbing him, just as he had during the countless times Tang Xiao immersed himself in his research.
But it didn’t take long for Junthus to sense something amiss. With the Third Eye channeling all resources into the Hope Project, 428’s original project had been put on hold. There was no longer any need for Jun Tesi to act like a test subject, meaning he and Tang Xiao had far less time together—especially now that Tang Xiao had become the Hope Project’s lead for treatment research. Opportunities to communicate were even rarer.
Fortunately, Jun Tesi soon discovered a new way to interact.
Taking care of Tang Xiao.
Whenever Xiao Xiao was too exhausted to resist, Jun Tesi could do whatever he wanted.
Thrilled with this realization, Jun Tesi eagerly activated ‘caretaker mode’ every day. Over time, he even began to find joy in looking after someone else.
Xiaoxiao wore clothes Jun Tesi prepared, ate food Jun Tesi cooked, and even bathed and slept under his meticulous care.
It was as if, without leaving a single thread of mycelium on Tang Xiao’s body, Jun Tesi had managed to leave traces of himself everywhere else—a secret satisfaction he couldn’t quite describe.
Just yesterday, Jun Tesi had suggested that if Tang Xiao was too tired to eat upon returning home, he could directly feed him by extending mycelium into his stomach. Tang Xiao had flatly refused, promising he would eat properly.
Noticing Tang Xiao remaining silent now, Jun Tesi extended his mycelium toward the room’s refrigerator. Alarmed, Tang Xiao quickly said, “Neither.”
Jun Tesi paused and turned to him, a puzzled look in his eyes.
Tang Xiao opened and closed his mouth hesitantly. This was a question he had buried in his heart for a long time, yet he hadn’t found the courage to voice it until now.
“The King of Mushroom launched this war to find us, didn’t it?”
As he asked, Tang Xiao already knew the answer. Still, he looked into Jun Tesi’s eyes, seeking confirmation.
Those non-human orange-yellow eyes remained as calm as ever. “Yes.”
“And if we reveal ourselves?”
“The war won’t end,” Jun Tesi said in an almost matter-of-fact tone. “If it were me, I wouldn’t let so many walking food supplies go, either.”
“After all, it’s been planning this for a long time. To humanity, this is a war for survival as a species. But to it, it’s merely a long-awaited hunt.”
“We are weak, so we became prey. It’s as simple as that.”
Tang Xiao’s breath caught slightly.
For a brief moment, a cold, predatory instinct flickered in those orange-yellow vertical pupils, revealing that no matter how human Jun Tesi pretended to be, his essence wasn’t so different from that of the King of Mushroom.
It was only because Tang Xiao had placed a leash on him that this monster was willing to lower its head and disguise itself as the weak human it disdained.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Tang Xiao asked softly. “If humanity is wiped out?”
“Don’t worry, Xiaoxiao,” Jun Tesi lowered his head, affectionately nuzzling Tang Xiao’s forehead. “I’ll protect you. If this place falls, we can escape together.”
He truly didn’t seem afraid—nor did he care about humanity or feel any anxiety about potential repercussions. Perhaps Jun Tesi was simply different from humans. It seemed that, for as long as Tang Xiao had known him, Jun Tesi never worried about the future, nor did he waste energy dwelling on the past. He lived calmly and firmly in the present.
So, what could make him afraid?
Tang Xiao gazed at Jun Tesi silently before suddenly asking, “If you devour me, could you defeat the King of Mushroom?”
The air froze instantly.
Jun Tesi acted as if he hadn’t heard the question, continuing to nuzzle Tang Xiao’s cheek. When Tang Xiao pulled away, Jun Tesi still tried to return to the previous topic. “Xiaoxiao, are you hungry?”
“Answer my question.” Tang Xiao’s words caught in his throat.
At the moment Jun Tesi lifted his head, a feral beast seemed ready to tear through its human guise, surging from his eyes. For an instant, even Jun Tesi’s expression twisted into something wild and deranged.
“That won’t happen,” Jun Tesi said, standing up. His silver-white bangs cast faint shadows, and his cold gaze bore down on Tang Xiao from above. “Or is Xiaoxiao planning to abandon me for the sake of humanity?”
A deadly exchange—one he hadn’t faced in a long time, Tang Xiao thought.
“Of course not.”
The dangerous atmosphere dissipated.
Jun Tesi pulled out a bathrobe from who-knows-where and, as if nothing had happened, asked, “Does Xiaoxiao want to eat first, or soak a bit longer?”
Only then did Tang Xiao realize the water had gone cold. Remaining calm, he replied, “Soak a bit longer.”
Neither of them mentioned the incident again.
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