Today was a workday, yet the streets of City K remained eerily deserted. The only bustling spot was near the Disease Prevention and Control Center, where crowds gathered. It marked the third day of the lockdown.
Influential families in City K had clandestinely started their exodus. They wouldn't make a grand spectacle, instead, under military escort, they would discreetly converge towards the contamination control center. After undergoing stringent testing, they would board planes to depart this perilous city. For safety, they'd be held on an uninhabited island until the danger passed, then returned to the mainland.
Simultaneously, crucial scientific minds in the city were listed, along with martyrs' offspring. In a metropolis of millions, fewer than five hundred arrived at the contamination control center to ascertain their eligibility for early departure.
Lin Sinan leaned against a Jeep, smoking, maintaining order. While many staff enveloped themselves in protective gear, he appeared unchanged from his usual attire. He didn't fear contamination; he was a mobile source of pollution.
Furrowing his brow, cigarette butts littered the ground by his feet. For Lin Sinan, the cigarette was not just smoke but a tobacco-scented sedative.
An inspector from the control center stepped forward. "Lin, ease up on the smoking."
"Suddenly can't stop. I'm a fool, really." Lin Sinan, vexed, cradled his head, squatting as he muttered to himself, "I only knew that the parasitic fish eggs wouldn't cause secondary contamination in the human body. I never expected its evolution in just a few days."
"And we couldn't successfully contain the pollution source. My arrogance led to this outcome. I should've listened to that kid, Ah Bai, not save him. But with both his parents gone, leaving only him, how could I not?"
"If the parasites become uncontrollable in City K..."
Lin Sinan covered his face with his hand, murmuring, "I'll be responsible for the deaths of millions."
They had tried so hard. To manage the pollution, Harbingers perished worldwide daily. Some were devoured, leaving no remains, while others self-terminated to avoid becoming pollutants.
The more they fought pollutants, the more powerless they became. The rate of growth for Harbingers couldn't match the pollution's rapid expansion and growth.
The precarious balance could shatter at any moment. Humanity had never gained an upper hand in their struggle against pollutants.
Since the water supply stopped, nighttime gunfire had notably increased.
Lu Yan sensed his heightened auditory senses, making sleep difficult without earplugs.
The City Hall deployed personnel to conduct contamination checks door-to-door. Contaminated patients would be taken away collectively, purportedly for treatment or possibly incineration.
On the fourth day of the lockdown, Lu Yan noticed an inability to transmit messages outside. Signals seemed confined within the city limits. He could reach colleagues, but the director's phone always yielded a "try again later" tone.
Glancing at the WeChat groups, discussions were scarce. It was unclear if they were suppressed or simply unnoticed.
Contrary to those who found these stories morbidly fascinating, Lu Yan believed there was a high chance of truth in them.
"Just a low-tier pollutant at the bottom of the food chain. Not human anymore, nothing surprising."
"Given the chance, I'd dissect one. They look grotesque, but... the meat's quite good."
"Oh, and this ugly frog... it has a thing for swan meat."
Lu Yan half-understood. He boiled instant noodles with bottled water, trying to calm himself. He also cracked an egg, knowing that while eggs could go in the fridge, they shouldn't sit too long. Best consumed early.
Due to the water shortage, at 9 AM each day, the property caretaker delivered water - one small crate per household, 12 bottles in total, provided by City Hall, free of charge. It sat by the door for residents to collect.
Enough for cooking and basic needs but showers were out of the question.
A few times, Lu Yan found some of his water taken by others, yet they left behind a stack of a thousand yuan. At two yuan per bottle, it seemed like Lu Yan had made a profit.
Even in such times, water proved more valuable than money.
Lu Yan pondered for a moment before pocketing the cash. The exorbitant price for water hinted at desperation on the buyer's end. Living alone, he didn't consume much water, especially with the surplus he'd stocked up from a previous trip to the supermarket.
However, his relationships with neighbors were generally good. There was room for discussion rather than resorting to clandestine actions. The following day, Lu Yan placed a chair near the door and activated the smart peephole.
He held a book titled "After Human Extinction," filled with illustrations of animals. Periodically, he'd glance up from the book toward the surveillance screen. At half-past nine in the morning, the property management left water by his door.
Ten minutes later, the adjacent door cracked open surreptitiously, revealing a figure—someone from across the hallway, a wealthy second-generation individual. Lu Yan vaguely remembered him as a junior from his university days, though they weren't in the same field. The young man studied chemistry and biology but often struggled, seeking Lu Yan's help with numerous perplexing questions before exams.
Despite the warmth indoors, the second-gen was oddly adorned in a bulky hat, almost engulfing his nose bridge. Resting his chin on his palm, Lu Yan observed as the figure hastily seized half the bottled water, leaving behind a thousand yuan.
Considering that the second-gen lived alone, such a dire need for water seemed implausible. Lu Yan paused the surveillance, zoomed in, and took screenshots.
Was it a trick of the eye, or were the second-gen's hands unusually elongated? Lu Yan compared, noticing their webbed fingers, almost translucent, revealing the veins underneath.
It seemed individuals contaminated by fish eggs parasites also suffered from dehydration. Logically, Lu Yan should report this discovery.
However, the second-gen's present state differed vastly from the photo, and Lu Yan found himself curious about the aberrant effects of the contaminants on the human body.
Lu Yan queried the system, "Under normal circumstances, can I handle an F-class pollutant?"
The system replied, "[Fifty-fifty chance. After all, you're a harbinger at the bottom of the food chain. Ordinary physical attacks could kill this kind of pollutant.]"
Consequently, Lu Yan abandoned the idea of making a call. Instead, he retrieved his compound bow from beneath the bed, spending the afternoon honing his archery skills.
Seventh day of city lockdown and quarantine.
Night fell.
Lu Yan's usual pastimes of swimming, archery, and reading were restricted. With swimming out of the question and archery indoors becoming monotonous, he resorted to reading. Fortunately, he had bookshelves lining every wall of his bedroom, neatly organized, housing at least two thousand books—enough to last him a lifetime.
Closing the book, he rubbed his tired eyes and retired to bed. But this time, sleep eluded him.
A faint sound of... someone tampering with the lock at the door disrupted the silence.
Glancing at the bedside clock, it read three in the morning.
...
...
In the silent depths of K City late at night, an eerie stillness blanketed everything since the imposition of the citywide lockdown. Nighttime activities had transformed into a collective engagement with smartphones. Consequently, the persistent doorbell, refusing to relent, took on an especially ominous tone.
Lu Yan gripped a compound bow, concealing a military-grade dagger acquired earlier beneath his clothing for a bit of reassurance. The corridor's lights flickered dimly, akin to malfunctioning contacts.
Stealthily, Lu Yan approached the door and peered through the peephole monitor. The screen revealed the visitor. Judging by his attire, he was the wealthy second-generation neighbor residing diagonally across from Lu Yan—Zhou Kaiwen, if memory served.
Zhou Kaiwen's skin appeared wrinkled, as if soaked in water, with a mossy green resembling algae spreading over his body. His gaze was vacant, with more than half of one eyeball exposed, seemingly on the verge of slipping out of its socket.
"Oh, look who's here for a swan feast—our lovely toad." The system's tone was sardonic.
Lu Yan abandoned the idea of opening the door. This humanoid toad was just too repulsive, inducing a touch of nausea.
Yet, the toad-man had no intention of letting Lu Yan off the hook. Zhou Kaiwen's elongated fingers anxiously pressed the doorbell, and semi-transparent slime dripped from his webbed digits.
"Oh, Senior, I like you. You know that, right?" Zhou Kaiwen's tone carried a subtle, hard-to-detect excitement. "I know you like me too; you're just more reserved. It must be something my dad said to you, making you keep your distance. But now, I've figured out a way for us to be together forever."
In the next moment, he agilely extended his tongue. Frog species relied on such tongues for hunting—long, flexible, with a forked tip. Now, that tongue formed a bizarre curve in the air, then entered the lock.
Regret briefly crossed Lu Yan's mind; he should have fitted an electrode in the lock. However, he couldn't entirely blame himself; his experiences limited his imagination. If someone had told him in the past that someone could pick a lock with their tongue, he would have directed them to the nearest psychiatric clinic.
Silently, Lu Yan raised the bow in his hand.
A few minutes later, a soft click echoed as the door cracked open. Light from outside spilled in, and Lu Yan heard his own heartbeat, not particularly intense.
Zhou Kaiwen's distorted webbed feet clung to the door, and he tenderly inquired, "Senior, you're clearly at home... why won't you open the door?"
Lu Yan's mind plunged into a heightened state of tension.
Positioned behind the cabinet, he had the perfect angle to shoot and immediately take cover afterward.
Without responding, Lu Yan's fingers released the arrow, impeccably targeting the newcomer's neck.
Against a regular person, that sharp arrow would have punctured through, yet when it struck Zhou Kaiwen's neck, it merely grazed him.
Foul-smelling blood sprayed out. The humanoid toad writhed in agony, its bulging eyes spurting yellowish fluids.
Though the wound caused by the arrow wasn't fatal, it clearly stoked more fury within the creature.
It leaped, nearly reaching the ceiling in a bound that surpassed human limits in both distance and speed.
Too swift.
So much so that when Lu Yan heard the system's voice, he subconsciously obeyed.
"Roll."
Lu Yan rolled on the ground, grabbing the military-grade dagger in his pocket but quickly loosening his grip.
Not now. He had tried the compound bow, and ordinary cold weapons would hardly incapacitate Zhou Kaiwen. He could aim for the eyes, but due to the vast power difference, Lu Yan likely had only one shot.
Zhou Kaiwen crashed heavily onto the floor, limbs flailing, saliva corroding the ground into foam.
"You should be glad its stomach acid is not as copious as sulfuric acid."
"Its weakness is its abdomen. You dissected plenty of frogs during your medical studies. You know what to do, right?"
Lu Yan's gaze sharpened.
He wasn't skilled in combat, but in the face of danger, the will to survive made him acutely aware.
"Back off."
"To the left, counter-thrust. Run."
Lu Yan had decent stamina. After all, there were times when he had to lift patients on stretchers without help. But against Zhou Kaiwen, now degraded into a pollutant, it wasn't nearly enough.
He was pounced on.
Zhou Kaiwen gripped his neck, perplexed. "Why aren't you afraid?"
To pollutants, humans dying in fear were the most delectable meal.
But Lu Yan's expression remained eerily calm.
However, that wasn't important.
Zhou Kaiwen's hand moved up, slender fingers prying open Lu Yan's eyelids, a grin threatening to split his face. "Let's start with the eyes, Senior. You have no idea how beautiful they are."
Its mouth opened, disgorging a long, repulsive tongue.
This was what Lu Yan had been waiting for.
Twisted madness contorted his otherwise serene face, yet his hand remained steady.
When Lu Yan first wielded a scalpel, his teacher praised him, saying he was born for this line of work.
But wielding a knife steadily wasn't unique to doctors; butchers did it too.
The foul tip of Zhou Kaiwen's tongue was barely an inch from Lu Yan's eye.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
The blade plunged deep into the creature's abdomen.
Crimson blood gushed forth, drenching Lu Yan.
...
...
The battle concluded. The humanoid toad, gutted, had essentially lost mobility. Lu Yan, fearing it wasn't completely dead, delivered several more blows.
When he emerged from the bathroom, the pollutant lying on the floor had cooled.
Lu Yan picked up a mop, starting to clean. Blood was hard to wash, but thankfully, he was prepared. A diluted saline solution with 10% potassium iodide made the floor gleam anew in no time.