Chapter 65
The corpse-collecting fishfolk from the Funeral Services Department, dressed in protective suits, walked straight up to the minister fishfolk. One of them spread open a body bag; the other picked up a corpse and tossed it inside.
The body bag was long, its bottom dragging on the floor. The corpse was thrown in headfirst—thud—its head slammed heavily against the ground.
The corpse collectors didn’t pause for even a moment, gathering bodies the way one would collect trash. Nearby, the minister fishfolk numbly said to the other fishfolk, “Everyone, keep it up.”
“I see all your efforts.”
His voice was hoarse, as if scr*ped by sandpaper, utterly flat—there wasn’t the slightest hint of encouragement in it.
“Finish what you have on hand and you can rest.”
The fishfolk at their workstations didn’t even glance at the minister. One by one, they kept pounding on their keyboards, taking deep breaths from time to time to stave off suffocation.
The corpse collectors, the minister fishfolk, and the ordinary employee fishfolk each did only their own thing, as if they’d been programmed with three different routines, blindly following their respective processes.
Yu Zhi looked at the minister, who appeared no different from the other fishfolk, and his eyelid twitched.
If the rules of this polluted zone were purely about work and corporate drudgery, then why was the minister no different from an ordinary employee fishfolk?
Seeing the minister turn to leave, Yu Zhi hurriedly spoke up. “Minister.”
The minister fishfolk turned to him.
Yu Zhi probed cautiously, “I’ve finished today’s public-welfare proposal.”
The minister’s bulging eyes swept over Yu Zhi, then glanced at the computer beside him. “Where is it?”
Yu Zhi pointed at a document with not a single word on it and said without changing expression, “Right here.”
The minister stared at the completely blank screen for a while, then slowly said, “Very good. You did an excellent job.”
“How about this—write another proposal.”
“Young people, the greater the ability, the greater the responsibility. Seize this opportunity.”
“Believe in yourself. You’ll definitely overcome all hardships.”
Overcome my ass.
At this point, Yu Zhi was completely certain: work was nothing but a trap meant to confuse him—a method of mental pollution.
“Ding—”
The sound of the elevator arriving rang out. New fishfolk had arrived.
Two fishfolk walked in one after the other. As if they hadn’t seen the bloodstains and bits of flesh on the desks, chairs, and computers at all, they sat down straightaway and began typing.
Before long, they fully blended into the office area. The clatter of keyboards echoed endlessly through the air, accompanied by intermittent sighs.
Everything returned to square one.
Yu Zhi cursed Fu Suxi in his head for a while longer. Soon after, amid the keyboard noise, he even lost the urge to curse.
What was the point of cursing Fu Suxi?
Would it let him leave this place? No.
Would it let him complete the dungeon objective? No.
Would it end everything and return him to a normal life? No.
So what was useful?
Nothing was useful.
Yu Zhi knew his thinking was wrong, but he couldn’t quite control the way his thoughts kept spiraling.
The never-ending sighs and keyboard clatter around him were like countless invisible little hammers, pounding again and again on his nerves, smashing his emotions to pieces and churning his mind into chaos.
[User “Marine Biologist” mocks you for deserving this.]
[User “Salad Pancake” hopes you’ll hand out benefits to the livestream viewers before becoming polluted.]
[User “Scarecrow’s Straw” waits gleefully for you to be polluted.]
Looking at the schadenfreude-filled barrage, Yu Zhi struggled to pull his mind back from those negative emotions.
He took a backpack out of [My Items], pulled out some water and compressed biscuits, and ate them in big bites.
There was no feeling of fullness, but tasting real food slightly shifted his focus and made him feel a bit better psychologically.
As he ate, Yu Zhi sank into thought about some small details he’d overlooked earlier.
First—why did his work badge have a name?
If his “identity” was the same as the fishfolk’s, then the badges should all be the same.
Second—the fishfolk never talked to each other, yet they would actively call him 5820 and even greet him.
Polluted entities followed the rules of the polluted zone. Within those rules, he seemed to be a special existence.
Thinking that, Yu Zhi glanced at the work badges of the two newly arrived fishfolk on either side.
They had the same department and position, but different numbers.
[ID: 6205-355]
[ID: 6209-357]
Yu Zhi then looked at his own badge—5820-356.
The first half was a personal number; the latter half was a sequential number.
He scanned from right to left, his gaze finally settling on his workstation.
He carefully inspected the workstation again, not missing even a tiny corner. At last, on the inner underside of the desk, tucked away in a corner, he found three extremely hidden lines of small text:
[Department: Public Welfare Department]
[Position: Public Welfare Event Planning Specialist]
[Name: Office Chair No. 365]
After finishing a pack of compressed biscuits, Yu Zhi’s thoughts gradually cleared.
No wonder the fishfolk had no names.
No wonder the text in the documents vanished into thin air.
No wonder new fishfolk kept coming after others died.
Because the fishfolk weren’t real employees at all.
They were consumables for this area.
When there were fewer, more were added. When something went wrong, they were replaced—like… controlled variables.
Endless work and an endless supply of fishfolk were quantities deliberately kept constant.
More importantly, they were constants used on him.
His badge had a name. He was the only human in the Public Welfare Department.
Yu Zhi lifted his eyelids slightly and coldly surveyed the office area he couldn’t leave.
In this fish tank called the Public Welfare Department, the fishfolk weren’t the fish.
He—Yu Zhi—was the only fish in the tank.
He was the sole observation target, the sole test subject.
Once he realized this, the sensation of being watched from the shadows grew stronger. A chill ran down Yu Zhi’s back as he felt a cold, sticky gaze upon him—like being stared at by an icy, slick venomous snake, enough to make one’s skin crawl.
A wave of nausea rose in Yu Zhi’s chest and spread rapidly through his body.
He was experimenting on the fishfolk, trying every way possible to leave the Public Welfare Department.
And the mastermind behind the scenes was experimenting on him, quietly watching.
Countless curses rolled on the tip of Yu Zhi’s tongue, finally condensing into a single national treasure of profanity:
“Fuck!”
Fuck this damn dungeon!
Yu Zhi clenched his jaw, his face dark as he stared hard at the fishfolk beside him.
At those bulging eyeballs that looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
At the densely packed gray-green scales.
At the mouth crammed full of teeth…
Ugly—definitely ugly. But Yu Zhi felt no emotional reaction at all.
They didn’t look as disgusting as they had at first. After seeing the exploded-scale fishfolk, the ordinary ones seemed almost tolerable.
That’s how a person’s bottom line gets lowered, step by step.
Yu Zhi twitched the corner of his mouth, stood up, and yanked the work badge off the fishfolk next to him. He strode toward the shattered floor-to-ceiling window.
As he walked, he tore off the badges of every fishfolk along the way.
By the time he reached the window, his hand was holding a thick bundle of badges.
The fishfolk seemed to belatedly realize something was wrong and started walking toward him.
Yu Zhi looked at them and, in one motion, flung all their badges out of the building.
The fishfolk’s approach faltered. They seemed unsure what to do, and a trace of confusion appeared on those numb, exhausted, dead-fish faces.
Soon, the minister fishfolk arrived.
He walked into the Public Welfare Department, looked at the group of fishfolk who’d lost their badges, and said the same words as before, in the same tone:
“I’m very disappointed in you.”
“I’m very disappointed in you too,” Yu Zhi shot forward like an arrow, kicked him hard, and tore off his badge. “Yours too. Hand it over.”
The minister fishfolk had just taken out an injector when his badge was ripped away. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to grab his badge back or deal with the fishfolk first.
In that moment of hesitation, Yu Zhi threw the minister’s badge out as well.
Another dazed, bewildered fishfolk was added to the group.
Less than a minute later, two more fishfolk arrived.
Yu Zhi glanced at their badges—one was the new minister of the Public Welfare Department; the other held the title of Director.
The Director fishfolk injected the former minister, while the new minister injected the badge-less fishfolk in the department.
Yu Zhi originally wanted to snatch the “dead-fish needles” from them, but he was afraid of accidentally injuring himself with a poisoned needle during the struggle.
After hesitating for a few seconds, he instead tore off the Director’s badge and the new minister’s badge.
And threw them out of the building again.
As a result, a third minister fishfolk arrived, along with a second Director fishfolk, and even the first Vice General Manager fishfolk.
With a blank expression, Yu Zhi thought: They’re pretty rigorous, huh—know to send higher-level leadership to handle it.
Higher-ups handled the lower-level fishfolk. Yu Zhi handled their badges.
One fishfolk arrived—one badge got thrown.
From minister to CEO, the fishfolk in the Public Welfare Department collapsed one after another, convulsed, and exploded with scales. The corpse collectors couldn’t even keep up. Bodies piled together.
“Pff, pff, pff, pff, pff…”
“Pff, pff, pff, pff, pff…”
The sound of pustules bursting echoed nonstop through the air. Yellow-green pus seeped out from the gaps between the densely packed scales, trickling all over the floor like a little river winding through the division, releasing an ever-stronger salty stench.
“Pff, pff, pff, pff, pff…”
Yu Zhi’s scalp tingled as he watched the fishfolk’s scales bulge layer upon layer, squeezing against each other, swelling larger and larger before bursting in????—an overwhelming visual assault.
He felt his sanity being swallowed up by the endlessly swelling, exploding pustules.
Disgusting.
Too disgusting.
No matter how many times or how long you watched a scene like this, it would never become bearable—it would only deepen the pollution.
Yu Zhi felt his eyeballs start to twitch violently, swelling painfully. His brain seemed to swell as well, expanding, compressing, expanding again…
Soon, the unbearable pressure flowed with his blood throughout his body, as if something inside him wanted to tear open his flesh and crawl out.
If it crawled out, it would be fine.
If it crawled out, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Just like popping a blister—pff—the compressed skin relaxes, a vent appears, and it feels good.
“Pff—”
Yu Zhi heard an extremely faint sound inside his head. A strange sense of pleasure welled up, accompanied by a feeling of immense relief.
Something flowed out of his swollen arms.
A little painful, a little itchy—and a little comfortable.
He lowered his head and rolled up his sleeve.
From his body flowed out patches of gray-green fish scales, glinting with an eerie sheen in the sunlight.
He had been polluted.
Yu Zhi’s long lashes trembled as he saw his reflection in the glass.
His face was pale as paper, pupils slightly unfocused. His expression resembled the fishfolk’s, yet was different—between his brows lay a deep numb fatigue.
Yu Zhi closed his eyes briefly, then reached out and pinched one small scale.
The texture was strange—like touching his own skin.
He clenched his teeth and violently tore off a small piece of scale.
“Hiss—”
His face turned even paler. The pain cleared the haze from his numbed mind.
He casually tossed the blood-and-flesh-stained scale onto the floor, didn’t spare the fishfolk another glance, and used a normal step to flash out of the Public Welfare Department. He didn’t want to stay there even half a second longer.
This time, he successfully left the Public Welfare Department and stood before the elevator.
[User “Pure Love Warrior” awaits your explanation.]
[User “Marine Biologist” questions why you slaughtered polluted entities in large numbers and calls you cold-blooded.]
[User “momo” is curious about your plan and tips you 50 universal coins.]
Yu Zhi took a deep breath of air without fishfolk, paused for two seconds, then explained hoarsely:
“This is a pollution experiment.”
“Only when the current stage of the experiment ends can the test subject leave the current experimental environment.”
Employee Rule No. 3:
[If you become ill or injured, the company will bear all treatment costs until you recover or die.]
“Illness or injury” didn’t mean literal sickness or wounds—it meant being polluted.
Work, fishfolk, employee rules—everything that happened in the Public Welfare Department existed to make him sick and injured, to pollute him.
Once polluted, the company could proceed with the next stage of its plan.
In the Public Welfare Department, doing nothing meant slowly being mentally polluted.
Trying every way to leave meant facing even more disgusting mental pollution.
No matter what you did, the result was the same.
A powerful, indescribable revulsion surged endlessly in Yu Zhi’s chest.
Physically disgusting.
Psychologically even worse.
He clearly wanted to leave to avoid being polluted, yet to leave, he had to be polluted.
[User “World Cutest Girl” praises your “couple pollution” and tips 20 universal coins.]
[User “Ultimate Love in Another Universe” praises User “World Cutest Girl” for her refined taste.]
Yu Zhi: “???”
What the hell is couple pollution?!
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