Chapter 16 – Feeling Like a Pauper
Mental pollution – Yu Zhi had always thought of it as the insidious creep of harmful information, behaviors, or environments that warped a person’s thoughts, emotions, and mental health.
He’d felt it before, a prickling unease when confronted with certain images or words. It wasn’t simply disgust or horror, but a deeper, more pervasive discomfort that seemed to gnaw at the edges of his mind, threatening to reshape his own behavior.
It was the fear that to continue looking was to become the thing you beheld.
Before, the solution had been simple: look away. Find something pleasant to cleanse the mental palate.
But here, trapped in this infested building, escape was impossible. Even if he didn’t look at the roiling mass of cockroaches below, there were the unsettling “cockroach people” above.
Even with his eyes closed, the ceaseless skittering and clicking filled his ears, a constant reminder of the horrors surrounding them. The sounds conjured vivid images, and the images amplified the sounds, creating a suffocating cycle of mental contamination.
Yu Zhi’s face hardened as a chilling realization dawned. Parasitic pollution worked its way in from the outside; mental pollution festered within and spread outward. His “Cockroach Exterminator” title might keep the insects at bay, but it offered no defense against this insidious invasion. To survive this, they would have to rely on their own inner strength.
He saw Lu Liming frantically scratching at his scalp, drawing blood. Without hesitation, Yu Zhi punched him hard in the stomach. Lu Liming doubled over, gasping for air. “Brother Yu, what the hell?” he choked out, clutching his stomach.
Yu Zhi moved to Zhuang Ding and Tang Yong, delivering the same brutal cure. “We’re being polluted,” he explained grimly. “We’ve been standing here like idiots for five minutes, mesmerized.”
Lu Liming’s face paled. He instinctively glanced down, but Yu Zhi’s voice stopped him. “Don’t look. The sights and sounds, it’s all mental pollution. Fight it.”
Lu Liming jerked his head back up, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Zhuang Ding, his lips bloodless, continued to scratch at his head with a manic intensity. Yu Zhi slapped his hand away. “Stop that!”
Zhuang Ding’s fingers twitched, his jaw clenched tight as he fought the urge. Tang Yong, however, seemed lost in a daze, barely registering the blow. Yu Zhi gave him two more punches, snapping him back to reality.
“W-why?” Tang Yong stammered, eyes wide with fear.
“Where do you itch?” Yu Zhi demanded.
“My head,” Tang Yong mumbled, reaching up to scratch.
Yu Zhi punched him in the head. “Still itch?”
“N-no,” Tang Yong whimpered.
“You gonna scratch again?”
“No! I won’t!”
Yu Zhi watched him closely, a flicker of relief in his eyes. Tang Yong might be a bit duller now, but at least he was obedient. “If it starts itching again, tell me. I’ll punch it out of you.”
“Find ways to distract yourselves,” Yu Zhi instructed the group. “Think about something else, slap yourselves, whatever it takes. Just stay rational.”
He turned and headed upstairs, the phantom itch still clawing at his own scalp. With a grim set to his jaw, he pulled out a bag of beef jerky from his inventory. The salty, chewy meat helped, the act of eating and the flavor pushing back the incessant cockroach sounds. He offered it to the others, but only Lu Liming accepted.
“Eat,” Lu Liming urged, “At least we’ll die on a full stomach.”
Zhuang Ding and Tang Yong remained unresponsive.
The sixth floor hallway was shrouded in an unnatural gloom, the air thick with an oppressive weight. Yu Zhi strode towards room 605. The door was unlocked. He peered inside, bracing himself for another wave of mental assault, but was surprised to find the apartment clean and ordinary. Sparsely furnished, with no sign of cockroaches or their egg sacs.
“Let’s go,” he said, pushing the door open.
They searched the apartment thoroughly – the small living room, the empty kitchen, the bare bedrooms. Nothing. As Zhuang Ding returned to the living room, a sheet of white paper on the equally pale dining table caught his eye. He was about to call out to Yu Zhi, but Yu Zhi and Lu Liming had already disappeared into the kitchen.
Zhuang Ding hesitated, thinking the paper was unimportant. He approached the dining table and saw two large characters scrawled across it: “Suicide Note.” Curiosity piqued, he picked it up and turned it over. “[Ever since I got mental illness, I feel so much better mentally…]”
Meanwhile, Yu Zhi and Lu Liming had finished their meticulous search of apartment 605. The kitchen, bathroom, balcony, even the cabinets – all empty. No cockroaches, no signs of life.
Yu Zhi stood on the balcony, peering at the vacant apartment next door. 605 was indistinguishable from any other unoccupied unit in the building.
“Brother Yu,” Lu Liming said from behind him, “there’s not a single roach here, let alone a 1.7-meter one! Did that cockroach person lie to us?”
“Impossible,” Yu Zhi replied, shaking his head. “The source of the pollution must have left 605.”
“But where?” Lu Liming’s voice was filled with apprehension. “It can’t be downstairs, can it? I’d rather die than wade through that swarm…”
“Don’t think about it,” Yu Zhi cautioned, leading the way back inside. “Let’s check the living room again.”
They found Zhuang Ding standing by the dining table, clutching the paper.
“Zhuang Ding?” Yu Zhi called out, but there was no response.
As he got closer, Yu Zhi saw Zhuang Ding’s face was pale and streaked with tears. He was staring at the paper with an expression of anguish, as if trapped in a nightmare.
Yu Zhi’s instincts screamed. He snatched the paper away. Zhuang Ding gasped, like a drowning man surfacing, and then erupted into a violent coughing fit.
“Cough, cough, cough—” Lu Liming patted him on the back, but the coughs continued, racking Zhuang Ding’s body.
Yu Zhi looked down at the suicide note:
[“Ever since I got mental illness, I feel so much better mentally. I feel so good mentally that I haven’t slept for a week, feeling terrifyingly strong.”
“Dear Dad, you’ll have to become strong on your own from now on, because your strong one is leaving first.”
“I know you deliberately had me come work here with you, I know you’re afraid something will happen to me, but every minute and second I stay in this apartment building, my somatic symptoms are getting worse.”
“Everyone living here is an orphan, but they’re all amazing, students at H University with good jobs and personalities. The resident in 205 greets me every day, seeming to notice I’m sick, and even added me on WeChat.”
“Watching them go to work and school, I feel like a cockroach crawling in the dark. I dream of turning into a cockroach every day.”
“A few days ago I dreamed I turned into a cockroach and crawled into 205, hearing Brother Zhu talking to someone else, saying I live like a cockroach.”
“Haha, if only I were a cockroach, cockroaches are so tenacious. If only people were cockroaches, cockroaches wouldn’t look down on others for being cockroaches.”
“My head hurts so much, itchy and painful, like something is trying to grow out from inside.”
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not a brain.”
“I don’t dare tell you, I’m afraid you’ll find out I’ve gotten some other illness. I tried to borrow money from the resident in 205 to go to the hospital for a check-up. He told me that the bottom card in life is always oneself.”
“Sounds reasonable. I’m going to play my bottom card now.”
“Game Over!”
“I’m afraid you’ll think of me every time you come home, but I don’t want to be too far from you, so I chose this place.”
“Setting out on a gloomy, endless spring day, my destination must be bright and sunny.”
“In the next life, I’ll be an invincible little strong one!”]
The words were like poison, seeping into Yu Zhi’s mind. He felt a pressure behind his eyes, his head throbbing, the phantom itch returning with a vengeance. It was as if countless tiny insects were crawling on his scalp, spreading waves of unbearable discomfort.
He closed his eyes, shoving the note away, and forced himself to chew on some beef jerky. “This is the suicide note of the pollution source,” he said, his voice tight.
Lu Liming stared at him. “He… committed suicide? Does that mean we completed the mission?”
Yu Zhi shook his head. “He only wrote the note. He’s not dead.”
He noticed a black backpack on a nearby chair and opened it. Inside were some papers, pens, medicine bottles, and a student ID card with Guo Qiang’s picture. Yu Zhi recognized him from the management office. There was no phone or any other device that could help them pinpoint when the note was written. They could only rely on the dates in Zhu Boxue’s diary for a rough estimate.
Guo Qiang’s failed attempt to borrow money on March 12th might have been the final straw. Considering Guo Pengyi was still searching for him on the 14th, it seemed likely that Guo Qiang had slipped into 605 after that, intending to end his life on the 15th or 16th.
Yu Zhi tucked the suicide note back into the backpack and turned to find Zhuang Ding staring blankly ahead, his pupils dilating like Tang Yong’s.
“Zhuang Ding!” Yu Zhi snapped, trying to regain his attention. “The pollution source is the manager’s son. 1.7 meters tall, gloomy…” He hesitated, swallowing the word “cockroach.” “The description the resident in 205 gave might be based on how the original resident saw Guo Qiang. Or maybe how Guo Qiang himself believed he was perceived.”
If the first scenario was true, then Guo Qiang might have actually transformed into a cockroach and entered Zhu Boxue’s apartment, overhearing his conversation. And Zhu Boxue had mentioned seeing a cockroach on March 11th…
But if it was the second scenario, then the suicide note was filled with hallucinations, and the cockroaches in Zhu Boxue’s diary were just a coincidence.
“Either way,” Yu Zhi said, “one thing’s clear. This contamination is linked to the source itself. Guo Qiang’s mental instability, his desire to become a cockroach… it’s influencing everyone else.”
Zhuang Ding blinked, his gaze slowly shifting to Tang Yong. Tang Yong was pressed against the wall, his body contorted, eyes bulging, a large patch of his scalp raw and bloody. The dried blood gleamed faintly, like the shell of a cockroach.
Suddenly, Tang Yong began crawling up the wall, his movements jerky and unnatural. He reached the ceiling and clung there, motionless. Barbs protruded from his arms. The transformation had begun.
“Brother Tang…” Zhuang Ding whispered, his voice trembling.
Tang Yong didn’t react. He no longer seemed human.
Yu Zhi felt a chill. The pollution was spreading rapidly. Tang Yong was the first, but who would be next?
“Lu Liming, Zhuang Ding,” he said urgently, “use all your common currency to enhance your physique.”
Lu Liming, his eyes glazed over, took a moment to register the instruction. “O-okay…”
“Spend it all,” Yu Zhi pressed. “How do you feel?”
“Done,” Lu Liming mumbled, looking confused. “Should I feel… different?”
Yu Zhi thought for a moment. “You should feel like a penniless bum,” he declared.
The phrase was a revelation to Lu Liming. He stared at the zero balance on his status panel, and a wave of clarity washed over him. He felt lighter, invigorated.
“Brother Yu,” he breathed, “being a penniless bum feels amazing!”
Yu Zhi stared at him, bewildered. “???”
Great, another one’s gone crazy.
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Hahaha, best way to ground oneself, poverty, lolololol
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