Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter One: The Nightmare Returns.
"Where is everyone?"
Russell's senses reached their peak, quickly assessing the surroundings.
At the same time, someone responded.
But no one answered him; a massive light exploded in the sky.
Soon, all eyes turned upward, as an overwhelming pressure caused the atmosphere to tremble violently.
Perhaps this was a possibility only hunters could perceive—those who wielded the elements were chosen by nature.
They could sense the anomalies in space, and it was perfectly fitting.
The beams burst in the air, and in the silent night, it seemed as if even the moon was obscured.
Endless white smoke formed a thin membrane at an altitude of ten thousand meters.
In the next moment, the elements gathered around began to flow rapidly.
A thin liquid surged through the white rain layer, with large amounts of thick moisture falling down.
It was raining.
Someone sensed something was off and reached out to welcome the rain falling from the sky.
"It's raining," someone responded.
"It seems so. This kind of atmosphere shouldn't bring rain. The weather patterns have changed, but that's impossible; it hasn't rained here in three years." Anis gazed at the meteorological data displayed on the Virtual Screen, simulating intelligence for a simple analysis before slowly speaking.
"Three years without rain, and we arrive just in time," someone chuckled.
The rain intensified, shifting from a light drizzle to a torrential downpour.
The wind howled, and soon everyone was drenched by the liquid water pressing down on them.
"What is this?" someone screamed.
At that moment, one person turned to look back. Someone behind them stood there, their body covered in cysts, resembling a creature mutated by radiation.
"What’s happening?" that person quickly rolled up their sleeve, revealing skin that had turned from white to purple.
"This is bad; it's livor mortis," Anis shrieked.
"What’s livor mortis?" someone asked.
"Well, to put it simply, it's a type of skin discoloration that only appears on corpses," Anis explained slowly. "The reason is that when active cells die, the remaining cells leak out from the body."
"This place isn't suitable for communication; let's find another spot to talk," Russell interjected sharply.
Nearby, those with weaker resistance had begun to show signs of illness, dark purple spots appearing on their necks, looking particularly terrifying.
Fortunately, most of the members of the Suicide Squad were battle-hardened, their muscles like iron and steel. No matter how much rain poured down, it was hard for them to be affected.
But who could say whether the rain would cause significant internal harm?
At that moment, everyone needed to retreat immediately.
Luckily, they hadn't dismantled the farmhouse; they rushed into the abandoned Farm to escape the rain.
Rainwater couldn't possibly corrode the walls unless it was acid with a strong enough coefficient.
"Feeling a bit itchy?" someone called out.
"Don't move."
Anis hurried over, retrieving a medical kit from the discarded supplies in the Farm.
Alcohol swabs, disinfectants, anti-inflammatory solutions—various powerful medical tools were all present.
The purpose of these items was to deal with skin infections, and the medications for such issues were at the very bottom of the kit. However, it was rare for livor mortis to manifest on a living person.
The greatest impact was felt by those who experienced intense reactions, accompanied by itching and the side effects of the sting.
They clung to a wall, some starting to rub against it without thinking.
Regardless of whether the disinfectant had been applied to the skin behind them, or if they simply ignored the doctor's advice, even with the application of disinfectant and alcohol wipes, the itchy spots remained unbearably itchy.
Some areas had already been wiped clean, but the purplish-red patches showed no signs of fading as their skin continued to rub against the wall.
Flesh was gruesomely stuck to the wall, emitting a somewhat putrid and nauseating odor.
"What’s happening? What is happening to us?"
"It's so itchy, my whole body itches."
"Doctor, help me."
"Doctor~"
A few doctors, who seemed to have some medical knowledge, rushed back and forth. From the beginning of the treatment, they maintained a distance from each other.
They started wearing gas masks and disinfected gloves, treating the bodies as if they were infected with a plague.
"It's okay, everything will be fine. As long as you stop scratching, nothing will happen," a gentle doctor reassured them.
The doctor took the syringe from the side and, with precision, inserted it into the barely discernible artery. The transparent liquid quickly infused beneath the skin.
"Feeling better? This is an antibiotic," the doctor said.
"Yes, much better," the patient replied, slowly exhaling, his head covered in lumps.
His chest gradually calmed down; it felt as if there was a pressure fluctuation within.
He breathed out slowly, his eyes clouded and yellow, still showing signs of pain.
However, after this injection, he felt significantly improved.
The other two patients nearby observed his symptoms and lined up for their shots as well.
Wrapped in blankets, they felt the medication coursing rapidly through their veins.
Their eyelids began to droop.
Once everyone had undressed for examination, those who needed medication were treated accordingly.
At that moment, two individuals quietly retreated to another room.
"Valen, what happened? I noticed something off about your expression, so I came to check on you," Russell said.
"You're really hard to fool," Valen sighed heavily, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
"Yes, seeing your outfit, I knew you had already sensed something was off. The treatment you gave them wasn't actually an antidote, was it? We don't have any anti-inflammatory drugs that react to that kind of illness. The symptoms of corpse spots manifest only on the dead; they can't be saved, can they?" Russell asked.
"Well, they can't be saved. An ordinary person's immunity can't withstand the mold toxins from that rain. However, military training can make people quite resilient; these individuals can develop immunity to some extent."
"But as long as they aren't constantly exposed to that rain, they should be fine. Plus, your constitutions are already resistant to toxins, so I'm not too worried about you all."
"Just like those three people earlier; they're still just ordinary individuals—three researchers. The one who was affected the least, we still don't have a complete plan to save him. The best method is to amputate the infected parts. If we do that, although his life will be difficult afterward, it's better than death. The area below the knee will need to be removed."
"Do we really have to do this? Is there no other way?" Russell's voice grew tense.
"This is the best solution I can think of. I don't know what virus these guys have been attacked by; it looks like radiation but also resembles a floral infection—bubbles on their heads and cysts leaking fluid. We can't find a suitable diagnosis for this condition; I'm powerless. Ordinary medicine can only serve as an anti-inflammatory."
"What I can do is mix painkillers with Morphine to alleviate their suffering and help them sleep well. However, once the medication runs out, I won't have any solutions left. At that point, all we can do is send them off to die," Valen said, shaking his head in sorrow.
The two figures turned away.
Outside the window, the rain had been falling for a while, but after two hours, it gradually began to subside.
"The rain has stopped."
Someone exclaimed in surprise at the change outside, like a bird finally released from its cage.
In this situation, there were indeed people who were not afraid of death and ran out alone.
However, it was truly nerve-wracking for those bold individuals. Russell watched in horror, just about to call everyone back.
In the next moment, he realized it was too late; more people had already rushed outside.
After a rain shower, the air felt particularly fresh.
Yet, they could not move into the uneven puddles, looking at the patients lying on the ground, each appearing like survivors of a nuclear attack—Radiation Victims.
Their eyes were yellowed, and their breath had become extremely foul.
The main issue was that no one could treat them as healthy individuals anymore. Although Valen assured them that they could recover, emphasizing the need to rest and strive to regain their strength by morning.
These words were clearly meant to comfort, but at such times, someone had to speak up because the patients felt that the doctor’s words implied there was still hope for them.
Little did they know that Valen had already given up on them. The injections they received were not anti-inflammatory drugs.
Instead, they were three times the normal dosage of painkillers, with a slight mixture of Morphine in the liquid.
Ordinary people would naturally feel immense fatigue after such injections. They might never realize they had fallen into the doctor's trap; the best thing for them would be to enjoy a comfortable end before dying.
Even though they were unaware that the effects of this comfort would not last long and that there would not be much of the medication left.
Morphine creates a tremendous dependency and addiction, yet even so, their taste buds or nerves become numb to any sensation of pain.
Tormented by an unbearable itch, even if something could pull them away from that sinful place.
What do a few side effects matter when compared to the discomfort of itching?
Countless people were looking around.
Soon, someone shouted, "Over there."
More people followed the direction of the finger, looking up above them.
A purple light, reminiscent of a corona, floated in mid-air, and within the Purple Light, a figure hovered.
How imposing it was.
It naturally exuded the aura of a king.
"When did it come above us? Is that the monster?" someone shouted.
"Everyone calm down and form up for battle," Russell said.
The Black Instructor caught Russell's glance and shouted to those nearby, "Do you want to die? Spread out and form ranks!"
Two rows of oval formations stood, each person appearing as an indispensable presence, encircling one another, layer upon layer.
The members of the Suicide Squad, the Black Men, had their muscles bulging, looking as if they were painted in black like Green Giants.
Perhaps only beings as powerful as the Green Giant could possess such a commanding aura.
The Black Men were worthy of the honor of the Suicide Squad; even when confronting enemies that posed a life-threatening danger, they still gritted their teeth.
"Hey hey hey, you worthless fools confronting our king should give up resistance and stop your futile struggle." A chilling laugh emerged from the bushes.
A terrifying face, covered in blood vessels and twisted in rage.
This was the voice of a head—just a head.
"Oh my god, it's talking! A head can still speak." Someone trembled in fear, clearly startled.
"Hey, it's too late to know. You should have surrendered early like me. How exhausting it is to live a meaningless life. You should have sought immortality like I did, hehehe." The head continued to laugh.
"Stop dreaming! Oh my god, I recognize you; aren't you that lunatic?" Another person jumped back in shock and then clapped their hands. "Ah, I get it now. You've been bought off by Vassal and turned into this ghastly thing. I almost didn't recognize you! This is the immortality Vassal granted you? I'd rather choose to live like this. Look at how handsome you used to be; now you’re so far from catching up to me."
"If only there were a plastic surgeon to fix your looks; you used to be quite handsome, but now you just look disgusting."
As soon as it began, someone immediately started to complain.
Soon, the room erupted in laughter, everyone laughing heartily.
But it seemed that everyone had forgotten an important point; the fear had vanished.
"Head, step back. You are not yet capable of defeating them. Leave it to me," a voice responded from the night sky.
Then, a dark figure plummeted down.
The Queen Mother’s Vassal had three compound eyes growing on its chest, all radiating a purple hue.
It had two pupils on its head, resembling those of a human.
Its exterior also resembled that of a human, but from the chin down, its body was covered in dark green scales, making it look like a severely ill patient suffering from fish scale disease.
However, this humanoid monster also sported a dark green tail.
It was extremely bizarre.
A purple light membrane formed faintly over its skin, rhythmically flickering with purple luminescence.
"Humans, I hear you are looking for me," the Vassal replied.
After scanning the surroundings, Vassal's face broke into an exaggerated smile.
With one hand behind his back and the other pinching his chin, he observed carefully.
"Vassal," Russell replied with a puzzled expression, looking at the monster before him.
"Oh, is that the nickname you humans have given me?"
"Well, it's a decent name. Let me tell you, you are not worthy of knowing my true name, foolish and humble humans. However, you still hold great value for me. Becoming my slaves like him would suffice," Queen Mother Vassal replied calmly.
"Pah, how ridiculous! Just like this bald fool, becoming your dog? I might as well die," someone spoke up.
"Oh? That is truly a commendable sentiment. I have high hopes for you; your attitude makes me think you are fit to lead them. Whether as my dog or servant, I can grant you life and give you strength far beyond what you had as a human," Vassal smiled.
"No, Vassal. We are prepared to die. Even in death, we do not wish for you to manipulate our bodies with your filthy hands," another voice chimed in.
"Then it seems the negotiation has failed," Vassal's expression suddenly turned cold.
"Hmph, I suppose so," came another voice from the crowd.
Comment 0 Comment Count