Although Tang Xiao didn’t have a particularly good relationship with the newcomers, he considered that other researchers in the project team might share similar concerns. So, he used his bracelet to contact Leon to understand his plan.
“Who is it?”
The call connected, and Leon’s fatigued voice came through from the other side.
“It’s me, Tang Xiao,” he replied. “Do you have a moment?”
Leon chuckled dryly. “I never have a moment. Just say what you need to.”
Even though Leon wasn’t part of the project team, he had been equally busy lately, managing such a large organization.
“I wanted to ask about your plans regarding the families of the researchers. The beast tide will hit soon. Do you plan to bring the researchers’ families into the base?”
“No,” Leon answered without hesitation. “I won’t allow anyone to come in.”
Tang Xiao was taken aback. “But if that’s the case, it’ll be hard to prevent the researchers from halting work in protest.”
“Likewise, I won’t bring my own family here either.”
Leon had already guessed why Tang Xiao contacted him. It was likely that someone had said something to him.
Seated in his office chair, Leon signaled his secretary, who was mid-report, to keep quiet. In a calm tone, he continued, “The relationship between the base and the outside settlements is still relatively harmonious for now. But have you thought about what will happen if we bring the researchers’ families inside? What would the others think?”
“It’s not like they don’t have options. They choose to trust us to protect them; that’s why they haven’t defected to the mushroom’s side. If we bring people in, we’re essentially telling everyone else that they are expendable pawns. In their anger, what do you think they’ll do?”
“Besides, the base’s resources are all allocated to keep the project running. There aren’t any extras to support so many additional people.”
Tang Xiao remained silent for a moment. He knew Leon’s decision was the correct one, but emotionally, it was hard to accept.
Leon’s choice meant that if the beast tide broke through the defenses, those outside would be the final barrier. Even if the base fell, the researchers would be the last to be sacrificed.
It was hard to imagine such a resolute and brutal decision coming from Leon.
“Dr. Tang,” Leon addressed him for the first time without any trace of sarcasm, his tone calm. “Please deliver results quickly.”
The sooner they produced results, the fewer people would have to die.
“I understand,” Tang Xiao replied softly, taking a deep breath.
Winter passed, and spring arrived.
Life renewed.
But this spring had become synonymous with death.
As the snow melted, in one of the lower-numbered bases, the command room of the stationed forces, the commander stared blankly at the radar screen, covered in densely packed red dots.
“This is just the first wave?”
Typically, the mutant beasts at the beginning of spring would be ravenous after enduring a long, harsh winter. In their brief recovery of bodily functions, they would recklessly charge toward areas with the most food—human bases. This was the origin of beast tides.
But the numbers in the first wave shouldn’t have been this high.
Unless something was driving them.
As time went on, the second and third waves struck. Multiple settlements fell, and even remote small bases were not spared. In the Alliance’s central command room, bad news kept pouring in.
“Base 033 has been overrun.”
“Base 052 is requesting immediate assistance.”
“General, traces of toxic grass beasts have been spotted at the reservoir of Base 06.”
The barrage of bad news gave the general a headache. Rubbing his temples, he muttered, “What’s going on? This year’s attack is far too aggressive.”
The beast tide would last for two months, only weakening once food became more abundant in the wild. But it had only been one week.
As time went on, the general’s mood grew increasingly heavy. It had only been a week, yet nearly ten small bases had already fallen. While there were no reports of breaches at medium-sized bases with single-digit designations, it seemed only a matter of time. Most concerning was that as soon as a base's situation became critical, a flood of defectors would emerge, accelerating its downfall.
“Put the small bases’ rescue requests aside for now. Prioritize responding to requests from bases critical to resource production,” the general ordered.
“Yes, sir.” The deputy turned to carry out the order but returned five minutes later his expression grave. “General!”
“Which base is it now?” the general asked.
“It’s not that,” the deputy replied, his face serious. “It’s a request for assistance from the Third Eye.”
The general froze momentarily before responding immediately, “Consult with higher-ups.”
By rights, the Third Eye was independent, not under the Alliance’s jurisdiction or protection. But now, the distinctions between factions had long since vanished. There were only two camps left: humanity and non-humanity.
The Third Eye was humanity’s most advanced research organization. It was reportedly working on a solution to the zombie mushroom.
Let’s hope they succeed before the central region of the Alliance is overrun.
Otherwise, even a vaccine would be too late.
The beast tide arrived as expected, but faster and more ferocious than ever. Tang Xiao didn’t know the exact situation in the Alliance, but judging by Tang Chen’s grim expression, it wasn’t likely to be any better.
They had no extra energy to worry about others. Perhaps before the Alliance fell, the Third Eye would already be breached.
While the Third Eye’s armed forces weren’t as strong as the Alliance’s, they were usually enough to handle beast tide crises. This spring, however, was different.
Even Tang Xiao, immersed in his research and experiments, could sense the changes. Armed forces stationed near the project team had been completely reassigned, movement in and out of the base was strictly prohibited, and the alert level was higher than ever before.
No one informed the researchers about what was happening, and they didn’t know the full details, but the tension inevitably affected them. During an experiment that day, Aberk jokingly asked Tang Xiao, “What’s going on these days? No news is getting through.”
Tang Xiao looked up at her but didn’t respond immediately. His gaze was deep, and Aberk began to sweat under its weight.
“It’s nothing,” Tang Xiao finally said, “just some troublesome beasts. The strict precautions are to prevent anything from sneaking in.” Seeing Aberk’s uneasy expression, Tang Xiao shifted his gaze and wrote out a reaction formula on the whiteboard.
“I see.” Aberk patted her chest in relief and thought to herself how much more responsible Tang Xiao had become lately—so much so that joking with him seemed inappropriate.
Aberk watched as Tang Xiao’s elegant, orderly handwriting flowed smoothly across the board. There really didn’t seem to be anything troubling him.
With that, they relaxed a little. Surely, they were overthinking it.
After all, Tang Xiao, the project leader, was still diligently working in the lab. If something truly catastrophic had happened, he would have reacted.
But the truth was, the situation outside was dire.
Tang Xiao thought back to a conversation he had earlier that day with Jun Tesi before clocking into work.
“Judging by the armed strength of this base, I’d say it won’t hold out past tonight,” Jun Tesi had said after using mycelium to observe the situation outside. “I overheard that reinforcements have been called, but given the distance, they probably won’t make it in time.”
Tang Xiao said nothing. When he arrived at the lab, he noticed a lot of data being backed up and uploaded, which confirmed his suspicions—Leon was preparing for the worst. If the Third Eye fell, they would have to abandon the base.
“Xiaoxiao,” Jun Tesi said, looking at Tang Xiao with a hint of hope in his orange-yellow vertical pupils. “Will you escape with me? I’ll protect you. We can flee to any corner of the world. As long as the King of Mushroom doesn’t personally hunt us down, I’m confident I can keep you safe.”
“At worst, we could escape to the sea.”
Tang Xiao stayed silent for a long moment before bitterly smiling. “Are we just going to keep running forever?”
“Not necessarily,” Jun Tesi replied. “We could find a sufficiently hidden place. Oh, I’ve read books about Earth—there are two extremely cold regions. I’ve been working on incorporating cold-resistant genes lately. Look.”
Jun Tesi grabbed Tang Xiao’s hand. His dark skin had grown a thick layer of fur, with paw pads that were faintly warm to the touch. Seeing Tang Xiao’s slightly dazed expression, Juntes proudly said, “I’ve been preparing for this. I can survive for long periods in cold or hot regions. We could go to Antarctica, the Arctic, or even the deep sea. I’ve already developed gills and can produce oxygen internally. We can go anywhere, and I’ll ensure your survival.”
Tang Xiao looked at him in silence. Jun Tesi’s voice gradually trailed off under his gaze. “Alright, maybe living conditions will be rough at first,” Jun Tesi added nervously. “But I’ll do my best to take care of you. If you want to keep doing research, you can even conduct it on me.”
“Jun Tesi,” Tang Xiao interrupted, his dark eyes fixed steadily on him. “I’m sorry. I can’t leave. I’m the project leader.”
Jun Tesi’s words caught in his throat. The anticipation in his glowing eyes dimmed as the young man’s calm but resolute refusal sank in.
“Oh.”
The mycelium disappeared from in front of Tang Xiao.
Memories of their previous interactions flashed through Tang Xiao’s mind. Ever since he had refused Jun Tesi, the latter hadn’t appeared again. Tang Xiao couldn’t help but sigh softly.
At that moment, a researcher experimenting noticed something unusual. He crouched down and stared at a beaker on the lab table, confused.
“Hey, look. Is this shaking?” Another researcher glanced down at the beaker upon hearing this and was startled to see ripples forming in the liquid. “It really is. Could it be an earthquake?”
As soon as the words were spoken, the tremors intensified, and the entire laboratory plunged into darkness as the lights abruptly went out.
The sudden darkness was accompanied by the sound of several glass bottles shattering. Fortunately, a portion of the emergency lights flickered back on shortly after, restoring brief illumination.
However, some didn’t relax. Instead, they frowned deeply.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Why were only the emergency backup lights working?
What was happening outside the base?
The wind howled.
The season's first spring rain revived the forest outside the safe zone, while the awakening instinct drove a swarm of beasts into motion. Their hibernation-depleted energy pushed them toward the area with the most living food: the Third Eye’s base.
Upon noticing the abnormal number of beasts, the Third Eye had decisively sent a request for aid to the Alliance. However, the distance between the two locations and the potential risk of encountering beast tides along the way meant that even the most mobile superpower units might not make it in time.
Realizing this, Leon had quickly ordered a full lockdown of the base, mobilizing all armed forces and mask units to prepare for a defensive counterattack.
After enduring waves of previous beast tides, the population in the outer district of the Third Eye’s base had already decreased by 50%. Crowds now pressed against the inner district’s walls, while those within the inner district tried desperately to enter the main base. However, following Leon’s strict orders, the base remained tightly sealed—entry was forbidden.
Thunder rumbled incessantly. Outside, the commander of the armed forces stationed beyond the defensive structures took a deep breath and muttered, “Tonight’s going to be hell.”
In the rain-soaked night, outside the defenses, a scout’s eyes locked on countless pairs of faintly glowing beast eyes in the dark. The sheer number made his scalp tingle.
But it wasn’t just the numbers that were alarming. This time, the beast tide showed signs of coordination and intelligence—far more than before.
The sudden blackout in the Third Eye’s base was caused by subterranean, rodent-like beasts that severed the cables. These creatures seemed to understand the purpose of human equipment, targeting cables and machinery during their assault. The implications were chilling.
A wolf’s howl echoed, signaling the beginning of the beast tide’s attack.
The order to fire was issued, and the first line of defense opened fire. Bullets, which should have pierced the heads of low-level beasts, instead sparked against their seemingly iron-like bodies.
One soldier froze in disbelief. His expression changed as he shouted, “This isn’t good—they’re high-level beasts!”
High-level beasts had skin so tough that bullets couldn’t penetrate.
Before he could finish speaking, a pair of bat-like wings blurred past, and his head was sent flying. Blood gushed from his neck, and even in death, he couldn’t comprehend why high-level beasts were at the forefront.
It was as if they were acting as living shields.
The human defense line was torn open slightly. Before the beasts could break through, the mask units arrived, swiftly taking down the high-level beasts at the front. These elite guerrilla troops moved wherever they were needed most on the battlefield.
No one had expected them to be deployed so quickly.
The gap was temporarily sealed, but the commander realized the tide's new strategy. His face paled as he recognized the gravity of the situation, but it was already too late to adjust their tactics.
And worse was yet to come.
While the beast tide relentlessly assaulted the front lines, burrowing beasts like rodent creatures quietly bypassed the battlefield, surfacing where the human scent was strongest.
“Ahhhhhh!”
“Beasts—they’re here!”
“Open the gate! Save us!”
Outside the walls of the inner district, people who had set up camp to stay as far from the perimeter as possible were caught off guard when rodent-like beasts emerged from the ground. Each the size of a cat or dog, their blood-red eyes glowed menacingly as they attacked anything that moved.
Screams, curses, and pleas for mercy echoed through the camp as lives were snuffed out one by one. Desperate survivors pounded on the tightly shut gates of the inner wall, but there was no sign they would open.
Inside the base.
“The beast tide has breached the first line of defense.”
“Report: over 30% of the mask units has been killed or injured.”
“Rodent-type beasts have tunneled into the camp. The outer district's population is being massacred. Should we deploy rescue teams?”
Leon rubbed his forehead, his bloodshot eyes betraying his exhaustion. His hoarse voice gave the order: “Do not deploy.”
“Have the mask units retreat to the inner district. They cannot all be wasted outside.”
“If necessary, abandon the second line of defense. Consolidate remaining forces and prepare to deploy the ground electrical grid.”
Leon’s commands were relayed swiftly. He stood and gestured to his assistant. “How many Apollos do we have left in the base?”
The assistant hesitated before checking his wristband. “Seven remain.”
“Good. Prepare them.”
“But... if the Apollos detonate in the outer district, the blast could affect the inner district,” the assistant said, hesitating. “There are still nearly ten thousand people in the inner district, along with the armed forces’ defensive line. This would be a pyrrhic victory at best.”
“Who said I’d detonate them in the outer district?” Leon replied, his expression unreadable.
The assistant froze. The beast tide had already breached the outer district, so if not there... then where?
“Start evacuating the researchers listed here to the underground shelters, along with their research materials. Leave the equipment behind,” Leon said, handing the assistant a document.
The assistant accepted it in a daze. Slowly understanding Leon’s intentions, his eyes reddened, and his body trembled uncontrollably. Nevertheless, he quickly passed on the orders.
A red alert signal blared through every corner of the base. Researchers stopped what they were doing and looked up, stunned.
Tang Xiao sighed and began packing up research materials. Meanwhile, staff members arrived to guide the researchers toward the underground shelters.
“It’s okay. What if this ends up being just like last winter?” Lodge tried to comfort a researcher whose family was in the inner district. “They might just be moving us to a safer place as a precaution.”
“Mm.” The female researcher sobbed softly, forcing herself to calm down as she followed the staff out.
Lodge approached Tang Xiao and helped him organize the materials. “Do you think we’ll die here?”
“No,” Tang Xiao said firmly.
Lodge chuckled. “How can you be so sure?”
Tang Xiao didn’t reply immediately. His thoughts drifted to his earlier conversations with Leon.
“Maybe because we’re humanity’s hope,” Tang Xiao finally said quietly. “They’ll buy us enough time until reinforcements arrive.”
Lodge froze, then seemed to understand something, standing motionless for a moment.
Underground outside the base.
One rodent-like beast didn’t surface with the rest of its kind. It sensed an even denser concentration of living beings deeper within and kept digging its tunnel, going further underground. The soil here was oddly loose, riddled with gaps and crevices.
Suddenly, its sharp teeth bit into something unfamiliar and stopped.
A strand of blood-red mycelium, unbroken by the bite, opened an eye and stared coldly at the creature.
Every beast in the earth was ensnared by the blood-red mycelium, sliced cleanly in half.
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