Chapter 8 – Household Mutations After the Apocalypse Arrives
That same night, Yan Fei sat in the conference room with a cold expression, listening to his subordinates argue over project issues. Casually turning to look out the window, the faint green glimmers outside made him raise an eyebrow, surprise flickering in his peach-blossom eyes.
“Meeting adjourned.”
“Huh?”
“B-but, President Yan—”
“Whatever it is, save it for tomorrow.”
An indescribable feeling welled up from deep inside. Yan Fei couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t right—dangerous, yes, but tinged with a strange anticipation.
It felt like something was about to change—something that would overturn all this decay and decline. But he couldn’t tell if it would be for the better… or if it would only plunge them deeper into oppression and despair.
*
Morning sunlight spilled across his face, mercilessly dragging him out of sleep.
Luo Xun’s eyelids twitched a few times before he opened them, staring blankly at the glaring white window. Then he shot upright.
The apocalypse! It was here!
In his past life, he hadn’t witnessed the night the end began. But during the escape later, he’d heard a companion complain bitterly about it:
“If I’d known that was the start of the damn apocalypse, I’d have gotten ready right then! But I was a dumbass, raiding dungeons in-game and hitting on a goddess. Thought I was just seeing things after staring at the screen too long—little green dots in the sky, ha! I even told her about it as a joke. Next thing I knew, the other side of the mic went dead silent. And in our party, one after another stopped moving. Total raid wipe. Thinking back now, they must’ve all turned into zombies, right? No way they were still gaming.”
Now, Luo Xun had seen it with his own eyes.
First he checked his hands. Sure enough, they were still his own—though after the past few days of work, they were rougher, with new little cuts across the skin.
Closing his eyes, he tried “meditating” the way ability-users described… nothing. Then he picked up the modified baseball bat with wolf teeth by the bed and hefted it. Still just as heavy. Looked like he was still an ordinary person after all.
Holding the bat, he carefully approached the door and listened—utter silence outside.
He cracked the door, slipped out, and slid open the terrace door. The balcony was eerily quiet, except that some of the plants had clearly mutated.
Out of thirty-three seedlings across four racks, six had turned a rusty red-brown, exuding a faint aura of decay.
Polluted, just as expected.
These red-brown plants were inedible—worse, they were lethally toxic. Eating them carried a high chance of immediate zombification.
With rubber gloves on, Luo Xun pulled out the mutated plants, dumped them into an enamel basin in the corner, and burned them on the spot.
Besides those, four other plants looked strange. Two had golden-yellow leaves, one glowed a bright red, and one shone silvery-gray.
He transplanted those onto a separate rack.
Mutated plants might never bear fruit at all… or they might yield more than before. But the likeliest outcome was that they would turn into entirely new species.
The second floor checked out fine overall. After carefully inspecting the rooms, Luo Xun gripped his makeshift bat and slowly descended to the first floor.
Flap-flap, flap-flap…
Woof! Woof, woof, woof!
Peeking around the corner, Luo Xun finally exhaled in relief.
The last three shrimp had all flipped belly-up—probably suffocated in their bottles.
Of the four fish, one had zombified and was thrashing in the box. The fish were no longer than a finger. Luo Xun had been lazy the night before and put the four bottles in the same plastic crate, one in each corner.
Now, the zombified one had knocked its bottle over and was flopping wildly. Of the other three, two had already suffocated overnight, and the last had been eaten down to bones.
In the cage, the little fellow was barking furiously at the box.
Luo Xun strode forward and smashed the zombie fish with one swing of his bat. And thus, all of Luo Xun’s aquatic stock had perished.
“You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He stroked the little fellow’s head through the cage, unable to stop smiling. The fish and shrimp were nothing—what mattered was that the little guy was unharmed.
“I’ll feed you in a bit, just wait for me.” He spoke more gently than ever before. The pup tilted its head in puzzlement, glancing between him and the box that had just been rattling moments ago.
What surprised Luo Xun was that all eight quail chicks were perfectly fine inside their makeshift bottles—not a single one harmed!
The mealworms too were fine, wriggling about without any signs of mutation. The earthworms huddled together in silent protest at having been dug out of their soil last night.
“Truly… tenacious little lives,” Luo Xun murmured, as he returned them all to their places.
After one last check of the balcony, Luo Xun found that one of the apple saplings had been contaminated, and one of the orange saplings had mutated.
Among the three Sichuan pepper and star anise saplings, one each had been lost. Looking at the rest that survived unscathed, Luo Xun felt content.
He carried the zombie fish and the contaminated plants back to the terrace for a unified burning, and finally checked the seedling room… Unfortunately, more than half of the mushrooms there had mutated. Looking at those bright red, brimming-with-energy mushrooms, Luo Xun wouldn’t dare eat them even if he was beaten to death! He could only deal with them quickly.
Luckily, he had long known mushrooms were troublesome to grow. In his previous life, when he was holed up in the basement, they had nearly cost him his life. Fortunately, he no longer had to depend on them.
He burned all the hazards with one fire, then stood on the terrace with a telescope in hand, observing the situation below.
The little one had already been let out. At the moment, it was rubbing against his legs, acting spoiled and begging to be picked up, occasionally nibbling at his pants. He didn’t plan to rename the little fellow—he might as well just call it “Little One.” It was affectionate, cute, and easy to reference. Most importantly—a humble name keeps one alive!
“Looks like the situation outside isn’t any better either,” Luo Xun muttered. Because doomsday struck at night, most people mutated inside their homes. Through the telescope, he could see that in many of the apartments people had already turned into zombies. Dressed in pajamas, they swayed by the windows, but since their doors were closed, they couldn’t come out for now.
On the streets, relatively few zombies were wandering in search of food. At present, their numbers didn’t seem high.
Luo Xun calculated for a bit and decided—he would go out to collect supplies while the zombie numbers were still low!
Supplies—no one would ever think they had too many. Especially now that Luo Xun had a relatively safe base for storage. His solar panels and such were still far from sufficient due to cost, and food would remain the most widely circulated commodity for a long time in the future—even expired food!
Peeking through peepholes was something every safety-conscious modern person did, and in the apocalypse, it was even more necessary.
The peephole in Luo Xun’s front door had long since been replaced. The new one was electronic: indistinguishable from the outside, but inside there was an LCD screen with night vision, 24-hour recording, visitor alerts, audio recording, text notifications, remote control, and computer connectivity—powerful functions.
Luo Xun focused mainly on the night vision and 24-hour recording. That way, even if the hallway was pitch dark, he could clearly see whether anyone passed by his door, and when. As for text alerts and such… he probably wouldn’t be able to use those for a long while.
Standing behind the door, he fast-forwarded through the footage from last night until now. To his relief—the 16th floor hadn’t shown a single trace of zombies.
In Building 7, Unit 5, on the 16th floor, only Luo Xun’s family lived there now. Room 1602 had already been reclaimed by the landlord, and the other two units hadn’t been finalized yet, so their doors didn’t even have peepholes installed.
On the 15th floor, one unit seemed to have been renovated but was still vacant, and on the 14th floor, one apartment was currently under renovation…
All in all, since the end of the year was approaching, the occupancy rate in the building wasn’t high. Many households hadn’t renovated yet. For Luo Xun, such a new apartment building was far safer than crowded old ones—fewer people meant fewer zombies.
Holding a wolf-tooth club in one hand, a backpack strapped to his back, a helmet on his head, a quiver at his waist, and a homemade crossbow slung across his shoulder, Luo Xun made full preparations before glancing back at the little guy in the living room: “Guard the house well.”
The little guy was still too young to be of use. But even if it had already grown into a big dog, Luo Xun wouldn’t let it come along—animals that hadn’t undergone a second mutation could be zombified if bitten!
The electricity in the hallway hadn’t gone out yet. The sound of the closing door triggered a flickering light. Of the two bulbs in the corridor, only one remained; the other had broken three days ago. It really showed how stingy the developer was—using the cheapest, least durable bulbs even for temporary lighting.
Seeing that the elevator still worked, Luo Xun let out a small sigh of relief and pressed the button. Of the two elevators, only one was open for use before the property management moved in. Typical…
With a ding, the elevator doors slowly opened. Seeing the empty cabin, Luo Xun finally lowered the wolf-tooth club he had been holding up and stepped inside.
The faint sound of the elevator in motion seemed to stir something. Distant, muffled roars drifted up. Judging from the sound, they were probably the renovation workers on the 14th floor—now turned into zombies. Since the door was locked, they couldn’t get out to feed, and so they must be gathered at the entrance.
In the cramped space, he could only hear rhythmic banging noises from some apartment, along with those low growls. It weighed heavily on the heart.
