From that day on, subtle changes quietly took place in 428.
Tang Xiao continued his routine of leaving early and returning late. But one day, when he came home exhausted from a rough day, his mood was at rock bottom. As soon as he opened the door, he keenly detected the scent of blood.
Narrowing his eyes, he put down his things and walked from the living room into the kitchen.
On the dining table was a large plate of bones and chunks of raw meat, still fresh from the look of it.
A vein throbbed at Tang Xiao’s temple. He had no energy to determine whether it was human or some kind of mutant beast. The overpowering stench of blood made him nauseous, and without hesitation, he dumped the entire plate into the trash.
The next day, when Tang Xiao returned home, the meat on the table had changed. It looked like it might be deer or some other mammal.
But it was still raw.
Tang Xiao did the same thing again and threw it out.
On the third day, this time, it was cooked—well, not really. It was half-raw, half-charred, practically burnt to a crisp. And it wasn’t just meat anymore; there were also some internal organs, likely from a pig or some other livestock.
Tang Xiao placed the groceries he had just bought onto the table, glanced at the oven—which had somehow exploded—and then turned to look at 428 in the living room. “What exactly are you trying to do?”
428 didn’t answer, only stared at him with those innocent golden eyes.
He had started watching Tang Xiao more frequently than before.
Even at night, or when Tang Xiao was cooking, he could always feel a scorching gaze on his back. Romance dramas began playing more frequently on the TV.
428 started caring about his appearance, attempting to cover up his inhuman features more carefully.
On the eighth day, when Tang Xiao returned home, the item on the dining table had changed again.
Instead of a mess of food, it was a single daisy.
A flower that served no practical purpose, couldn't be eaten, and was assigned a cheap sentimental meaning by humans—an utterly useless thing. Fragile enough that 428’s sharp claws could easily crush it, yet it now sat intact on the table.
The meaning behind it made Tang Xiao unconsciously slow his breathing. He picked up the small, pale-yellow daisy, his lowered eyelashes concealing the complicated emotions in his eyes.
Then, he turned around and smiled at the monster peeking from behind the corner. “Thank you, I like it.”
It was probably the first time Tang Xiao had smiled in front of 428 without any trace of mockery or hostility. His lips stretched awkwardly—he hadn't smiled in a long time, so it probably didn’t look great.
428 stared at him, mouth slightly open, revealing rows of sharp teeth.
He held that pose all the way until midnight.
After that fleeting moment of impulse, Tang Xiao started regretting it, because from that day on, he began receiving multiple flowers every day.
Some were placed at his bedroom door, so he would see them the moment he woke up.
Some were on the dining table, in the living room, on the sofa—occupying every conspicuous spot.
That was still tolerable. But then, one morning, when Tang Xiao opened his eyes, he was met with a full-blown flower bed. 428’s mycelium body lurked within the blossoms, watching him expectantly.
How on earth did he manage to make flowers from different seasons bloom all at once?
Tang Xiao had too many questions and no way to voice them. Facing 428’s intensely hopeful gaze, he kept his expression calm, slightly curled his lips, and said with a smile, “They’re beautiful, but maybe don’t put them all on my bed?”
Monsters didn’t understand human concepts of ‘moderation.’
Since he knew giving flowers made Tang Xiao happy, he gathered every flower he could find and placed them where Tang Xiao would see them.
Even though he had no idea why these fragile, nutritionally useless plants could bring Tang Xiao joy.
But the fact that Tang Xiao accepted his approach filled 428’s heart with a satisfaction as fulfilling as devouring his favorite prey.
In reality, despite his resolve, Tang Xiao had never been in a relationship before. Before college, he was forbidden from dating. In college, he was too focused on gaming. Now, he was dedicated to research. His romantic experience was practically nonexistent— elementary schoolers probably had more dating experience than he did.
But at least… his ‘opponent’ was even more clueless.
At best, 428 was at the level of a newborn baby.
Even elementary schoolers understood weighing pros and cons, but newborns only knew how to shove everything they liked into the hands of their favorite person.
Their thoughts were erratic, illogical, unpredictable, and capricious. 428 didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about Tang Xiao’s sudden shift in attitude—just like he saw no issue with going from being mortal enemies one day to being in a ‘relationship’ the next.
His world was fragmented, devoid of logic. One moment, they could be on guard against each other, locked in battle, and the next, 428 would be dragging Tang Xiao onto the couch, sharing his favorite pastime.
“...428, I’m not interested in watching TV.”
Watching TV had become 428’s recent fixation, particularly human romance dramas. Of course, he never explicitly said so—Tang Xiao had deduced it from the bizarre assortment of ‘gifts’ he had been receiving lately.
428 didn’t reply, but he was surprisingly stubborn. He wouldn’t let Tang Xiao leave the couch. Every time he tried to get up, mycelium would wind around his ankles—not forcefully, but persistently enough to keep him there.
Tang Xiao let out a long sigh and eventually relented, sitting beside 428 on the couch, eyes blank as he watched an absurdly outdated romance drama.
The plot was so boring that Tang Xiao's eyelids kept drooping, but 428 was watching with intense focus.
“Love… you… I… xia… xiao…”
428 struggled to practice pronunciation with its newly evolved vocal cords, but no matter how hard it tried, it was always wrong. Frustrated, it shut its mouth again and stole a glance at Tang Xiao, only to find the young man completely asleep. It let out a slow breath and refocused on the television.
“I love you! My heart beats only for you—listen, you’ll hear it!”
“My heart is racing. The moment I look at you, I can no longer control it.”
428 watched the television and nodded thoughtfully. Then, it moved in front of Tang Xiao and pressed its mycelium against his chest.
The sleeping man’s breathing was steady, his heartbeat slow but strong. 428 patiently rested on top of him—
As if waiting for the moment his heartbeat would quicken.
Lately, Tang Xiao found 428 to be unusually clingy.
It constantly wanted to stick to him, and even if it couldn’t, its mycelium was always wrapped around his wrist. Even at night when he was sleeping, it clung to him, as if afraid he would get lost and needed to be held at all times.
This troubled Tang Xiao, but even if he asked 428 about it, the other party wouldn’t answer—just staring at him with those golden eyes.
After two or three seconds of silent eye contact, Tang Xiao failed to decipher anything. With a sigh, he gave up and let it be.
It had been a while since he last used his time-reversal ability.
As they moved farther from the Third Eye’s domain, the frequency of pursuers decreased. They weren’t even enough for 428 to get a proper fight in. If they went a little further, they would probably be completely free.
But after gaining freedom… where would they go to find hope?
Tang Xiao frowned at the map, an uncommon hesitation flashing across his expression.
In previous reversals, he had always stayed within the Third Eye. There, he had only one identity—that of a scientist—and only one task: research. The only difference was which project or field he was working on.
But now that he had freed himself from that identity, determined to explore a different path, he found himself overwhelmed by too many choices.
Taking a deep breath, he made a decision. First, he would look for the ‘travelers’ in the real world. Through them, he could establish contact with reality and report on the current situation before anything else.
With that in mind, he quickened his pace—though to be precise, it was only Tang Xiao speeding up. He knew what was coming: in a short time, war would break out again. He had to find his people before all communication was cut off, or things would become much more difficult. Unfortunately, by the time they reached the new base, they were already too late. The base was in chaos. Survivors fleeing for their lives reported that, half a day ago, an infected with zombie mushroom had appeared inside.
Half a day… there was still time.
Tang Xiao calculated the timing and used his time-reversal ability for the first time in days.
He thought it would be just another ordinary reversal. He had done it countless times before—so many that he had lost track.
But this time, something unexpected happened.
“Found you.”
A chilling sensation pierced through Tang Xiao’s entire body from head to toe.
He whipped around— And saw 428 raising its deadly fleshy wings like executioner’s blades, its expression still frozen in innocent surprise.
The moment the blade came down, Tang Xiao instinctively activated his ability again, jumping back five minutes in time. He didn’t have time to wonder why 428 had suddenly attacked him—all he could do was immediately get away.
But this time, 428 remained in place. It didn’t attack him right away. Tang Xiao thought it might have been a mistake, but when he turned back, he saw 428 raise its arm without hesitation—And slice off half of its own body.
Tang Xiao stood there, stunned. “What… the hell?”
In the next second, he watched as the severed half of 428’s body rapidly turned into the color of withered tree bark, its golden eyes fading into green. Meanwhile, the other half remained vibrant and red.
The red half struggled to regrow limbs and stumbled toward Tang Xiao. Tang Xiao thought it was attacking, and his instincts told him to run. He was about to bolt when, in that instant, he met 428’s gaze—And saw no trace of killing intent.
What… was going on? What exactly was 428?
“Finally… found you.” The other half of the mycelium body slowly reshaped itself into normal limbs. A voice like a deep sigh echoed—no, it reverberated inside both 428’s and Tang Xiao’s minds. “It has been a long, long time. Strange… Is it because the key is inside you? Otherwise, how could a mere human withstand so many time-travel jumps?”
Key? What key? And just what the hell was ‘God’?
At that moment, a surge of instinctual dread crackled through Tang Xiao’s mind like electricity. Without thinking, he blurted out— “The King of Mushroom?!”
“This is probably our first meeting, child of man,” the King of Mushroom said, “but don’t worry—I guarantee it will also be our last.”
----------
No comments:
Post a Comment