Chapter 25: "Run Fast
The bullet comments guessed as they read:
"This medicine, can it really cure zombie poison? But why is this one colorless..."]
"It seems like there are two types of medicine, one colorless and one purple..."]
"I don't understand, but let's leave the thinking to the streamer, right?"]
"This streamer is so selfish, I'm sitting here waiting for him to die!"]
"To the ones in front, take it easy. The streamer is a tough guy, don't be fooled by his student-like appearance..."]
"Yuanyuan is really cute. Why does she always follow the streamer? He doesn't seem that special..."]
"It doesn't seem like they are lovers. I don't get it, I don't get it. Could they be siblings?"]
"Are they going to Central Hospital now? That place must be dangerous..."]
"..."]
"If I'm not mistaken, there are actually two types of vaccines or antidotes..." Ming'an looked at Yuanyuan, who had finally escaped danger, and pondered, "The hidden virus from fungi lurks within the human body, and its vaccine must be cultivated on a human corpse—that is the source of the colorless bottle. As for the virus from the zombies, that requires the purple liquid as an antidote."]
"If you had thought of that, why did you amputate your arm in the first place?" Yuanyuan didn't understand the action of having the antidote at hand but not drinking it.
Ming'an stood up, looking toward the pitch-black hospital, "Because of a personal guess... If I drank the purple liquid to relieve the zombie poison momentarily, perhaps I wouldn't be able to fight the final battle..."]
He suddenly saw the look in Yuanyuan's eyes as she looked over, that unique look of hers, shrouded in mist and confusion.
"Don't understand? It doesn't matter," Ming'an walked towards the interior of the hospital. "Leave everything... to me."]
Yuanyuan gripped the sword in her hand, following closely behind him.
...She didn't care what the truth of this world was.
She just wanted to be with him, always with him... Whether it was dependency or childhood friendship, she considered herself without a family, and the person she played games with was the closest person to her.
She was still waiting for his new game.
He saved her more than once when they were children. For her, she had long assigned her role as an omnipresent sword. As long as she could strike against all darkness, she would follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary.
She knew she was bad with words, didn't know how to speak, and only had eyes for the sword, so she chose to remain silent as much as possible. She didn't care about the Lighthouse Ming'an often mentioned—she just wanted to stay alive and help him. Her thoughts were simple and direct because she didn't understand all that winding and twisting around.
...Even if Ming'an never knew her thoughts, it didn't matter. Since the world game began, splitting into fifty thousand versions of City X, if a one in fifty thousand chance allowed them to meet in the same City X, then it was destiny.
She always had confidence in her immense luck.
...
Upon entering the hospital, a penetrating chill gradually closed in, swiftly climbing up from where they stood, and a sense of danger quickly crawled up their spines.
The corridor in front of them was like the gaping maw of a beast, darkness enveloping them, with the low groans of zombies echoing in the empty hallways.
Ming'an opened the map; they entered from the hospital's east gate. The hospital was divided into four major gates, east, south, west, and north. Aside from each area having a large hall, the rest were corridors with various consultation rooms leading to the central circular hall and the elevators—it was a strange structure, like a maze deliberately prepared for outsiders.
He switched on his flashlight, with a feeling akin to playing horror games as a streamer, the round patch of light emanating from the "nuclear" flashlight in his hand, seemingly never to go out.
As he stared at the map in his hand, a hidden zombie suddenly lunged at him, but the silver sword behind him accurately pierced it, preventing any disturbance.
Running his finger over the map, he turned to the sword-wielding girl and said, "We'll go to the intensive care unit on the third floor first."]
"I'll follow you," Yuanyuan said.
She held her sword with extreme caution, watching all around her, her gaze momentarily sharp because danger was from all sides, and she wasn't sure she could keep them both safe and sound.
The journey was rather silent, with only the whooshing of the silver sword and the sounds of it piercing zombie flesh. Ming'an held the map between his fingers, a flashlight in his palm, with no room to wield a weapon at all.
Upon seeing a shadowy light in the hall, he knew the central hall was near.
The bullet comments were even more frightened:
"This hospital is too much like Underworld, just like the one in horror games we played before..."]
"Why aren't the streamer and Yuanyuan scared at all, I'm terrified just watching..."]
"Simply with that courage, I'm impressed. I hope they can make it to the end..."]
"Honestly, we shouldn't be so demanding of others... They're really having a tough time..."]
"Ho ho, it's starting again? Weren't you one of the ones cursing vehemently before?"
"Stop cursing already, don't you know that this streamer basically doesn't read the chat? Your insults are wasted; you're just getting sprayed in return, the noob audience can't even understand, I'm speechless..."
"..."
Though the apocalypse had erupted just three days before, the long staircase looked like it had been abandoned for ages; Su Ming'an even saw blood-red little flowers and mushrooms growing out of the cracks. The moment he stepped into the rotunda, countless bloody palm seals suddenly appeared on the wall with pops, a mix of crimson and black smeared and trailing down, like the traces of despair left by someone in agony at the brink of death.
Although the sun was still shining gloriously outside, not a gleam of light entered through the hospital windows. Only when swept by that small round patch of white light in his hand could Su Ming'an make out the rusted iron cabinets and the seats covered with mold and sprouting branches.
"Hee hee, hee hee hee..."
Suddenly, he heard a bell-like laughing voice.
Soft footsteps resounded behind him, and the distance felt unnervingly static, as if the sound were coming from right at the nape of his neck, laughing. He tightened his grip on the flashlight and swiftly turned around, only to be faced with a whole wall—a wall covered with bloodstains and black palm seals.
On it, several blood-drenched words were written:
[—Would you like to pick mushrooms with me?]
And the figure of Yuanyuan, which had been close to him all this time, seemed to have vanished into thin air.
...Had he triggered some dangerous predicament?
Su Ming'an remained on high alert.
"Clang clang clang—" The iron cabinet behind him emitted a banging noise from inside, as if something were trying to burst out. When Su Ming'an turned around once more, where the cabinet had stood was now another wall smeared with bloodstains.
"Creak—" A sound of a cabinet door moving in the breeze came from his right.
The next moment, Su Ming'an immediately created a clone on his right.
"Bang!"
He was splattered with blood all over his face and head.
The clone had taken his place, and he had been a hair's breadth from death.
...This place was too dangerous.
Numerous mushrooms grew wildly from the bisected clone's flesh, sending out bizarre grass-like tendrils that twisted towards him.
Behind that lush growth stood a small figure in a blood-colored skirt, just vaguely visible.
"Run, run fast…" she uttered in a clear, ringing laugh.
Su Ming'an turned and ran.
The live-streaming audience fell into a deathly silence as if they had been frozen in fear, or for some other reason, the screen was now blank.
Su Ming'an stepped onto the rotting staircase.
"Sizzle—"
The moment he set foot on it, he felt the step under his heel give way. As he moved up another step, he heard the staircase behind him gradually rotting and breaking.
As he climbed to escape, the path behind him continually crumbled away.
He heard the sound of the collapse drawing nearer and nearer, as though someone exhaled a cool breath on the back of his neck, sending a chill deep into his body and stiffening his strides somewhat.
He strained forward with his last ounce of strength, his heels scraping like fire, and when he finally saw that safe landing on the second floor, he leapt up with all his might, stretching out his hand—
The flashlight spun out of his grasp, its light gradually disappearing into a bottomless darkness.
Only a hand's span away from that broad landing.
He felt his forward momentum weakening, the force of his jump diminishing; as his fingers stretched out full force towards the landing, he saw the bright patterns of light scattered across it.
—Light.
He reached out forcefully, the steps beneath him had vanished completely, his body thrusting forward in mid-air with nothing left to support it.
The short distance expanded infinitely before his eyes.
The place within reach was short by only a hand's span.