After touring the research facility’s living amenities, the group arrived at the dormitory building.
“Here we are,” Babbitt said as he led them inside. “This is the residential wing. From now on, this is where you’ll be living.”
He gestured around the lobby.
“The dormitory was built to nearly the same specifications as the laboratories. Even if something goes wrong, you’ll have nothing to fear as long as you take shelter inside.”
Then he added with a dry smile, “Of course, the facility’s security systems are exceptionally thorough. There hasn’t been a single accident since construction was completed. This is merely an additional precaution.”
That sounded exactly like something a person said one second before disaster struck, Tang Xiao thought.
Red emergency lights flared to life.
A shrill alarm tore through the entire research complex.
Tang Xiao blinked.
Had he just discovered a talent for jinxing things?
Babbitt’s expression changed instantly.
“Damn it.”
Perhaps it was the humiliation of being proven wrong so quickly, but his face had become frighteningly grim. Even so, he immediately stopped several panicked recruits from scattering.
“Do not run. Remain quietly in the dormitory lobby. The walls and windows here are constructed from the same materials used in the laboratory. You are safe inside.”
“Excuse me,” Tang Xiao said calmly. “But if the emergency was caused by something escaping from the research facility…”
He paused.
“If it can break through the laboratory, wouldn’t that mean it could break through this building as well?”
Every face in the room changed.
Babbitt stared sharply at him. “What makes you think something escaped?”
“It was only a guess.”
The moment the words left Tang Xiao’s mouth, the lights went out.
“Did we lose power?” someone whispered.
The dormitory’s emergency system activated almost immediately, bathing the lobby in dim auxiliary lighting.
With a dark expression, Babbitt approached the front entrance and pressed his access card against the control panel.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
The doors remained sealed.
“Tch. The main entrance is connected to the facility’s central power grid.”
Anxiety crept into Babbitt’s features.
Tang Xiao’s speculation had clearly unsettled him. If the alarm truly had been triggered by an escaped experimental subject, then they had effectively been trapped inside.
“No. That can’t be right,” one of the recruits murmured, as though trying to reassure himself. “Even if something escaped, the facility’s main exit isn’t in this direction. We’ll be fine.”
“Quiet.”
Tang Xiao raised one finger to his lips.
Everyone fell silent.
Within the stillness, a faint sound became perceptible.
It was growing louder.
And closer.
The recruits instinctively crowded together, staring toward the darkened entrance.
A single crimson filament pierced through the door.
The instant they saw the bloodred hypha, fear struck their minds like a physical blow. Unease spread through the room, swift and uncontrollable.
Babbitt’s pupils contracted.
He swore under his breath and drew the thermal ray g*n from his belt, aiming it at the doorway.
Moments later, the entrance—supposedly made from the same material as the laboratory walls—began to dissolve.
The creature they had seen earlier shot through the opening like a streak of crimson lightning.
Babbitt abandoned any thought of firing.
At that speed, hitting the creature would have been impossible.
While the bloodred monster lunged toward the recruits, Babbitt turned and sprinted for the opening.
Screams erupted throughout the lobby.
“No!”
“Stay away from me!”
The monster moved with terrifying speed.
Tang Xiao had merged into the crowd the instant it appeared. The panicked recruits surrounding him fell one after another, and the blond man who had questioned Babbitt earlier was the first to collapse.
As Babbitt fled, Tang Xiao shouted from within the chaos, “The door! Run for the door!”
The terrified crowd obeyed like a flock of startled sheep, surging toward the exit.
Babbitt had already escaped through the hole the creature had corroded into the door.
Tang Xiao remained hidden among the fleeing recruits, his heart pounding wildly. Relying on years of gaming experience, he changed direction whenever the monster approached and used the others as moving cover.
A suspicion had taken root in his mind.
The creature had come here for him.
Just as Tang Xiao drew close to the exit, something seized his ankle.
He stumbled and crashed to the floor.
Looking down, he saw a layer of bloodred fibers wrapped around his slender ankle, like the hunting tentacle of some deep-sea predator.
Shit.
The creature ignored the motionless bodies scattered across the lobby.
Its orange-yellow eye, somehow already restored, emerged between its shifting fibers and fixed itself upon Tang Xiao.
Greed and ravenous longing burned within its vertical pupil.
So he had been right.
It had come for him.
Cold sweat gathered across Tang Xiao’s forehead.
Whatever affection he had felt for the creature’s appearance vanished without a trace. For the first time, something perilously close to genuine fear surfaced in his heart.
It was strange.
Tang Xiao had played countless games. No matter how horrifying the monster or how brutal the death, he had never felt much of anything.
Yet whenever he looked into this creature’s eye, an instinct deep inside him screamed the same command over and over.
Run.
Run!
Whatever happened, he could not allow himself to be eaten.
What kind of romance target devoured the protagonist?
Wouldn’t players bury this game studio in complaints?
Tang Xiao clawed at the floor and struggled with all his strength.
He tried every method he could imagine to trigger the main storyline. He cursed the creature, pleaded with it, begged for mercy, and even stopped resisting in the hope that surrender might unlock some hidden response.
Nothing worked.
The force dragging him backward never weakened.
At last, even the white light spilling through the open doorway disappeared beneath a mass of slender crimson hyphae.
Darkness gradually swallowed his vision.
The creature pulled him into an endless abyss.
His monitored heart rate climbed higher and higher, approaching the system’s safety threshold.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
His heartbeat filled his ears.
Warning. Warning. Health decreasing.
Ah.
Tang Xiao had disabled pain feedback long ago, so he felt no physical agony.
Instead, drifting somewhere between consciousness and darkness, he remembered something he had once read.
Fungi were decomposers.
What an appropriate description.
A mind trapped in darkness had a tendency to wander.
Although he could feel almost nothing, he imagined the creature’s filaments consuming and breaking down his body, reducing flesh to nourishment until nothing remained but pale bone.
The bloodred organism entered him and devoured everything it could claim.
Even after only an empty shell remained, the hyphae refused to abandon it. They wound lovingly around the remains, reshaping them into a nest suitable for their continued growth.
Health: 0
Game Over
CG Unlocked: “The Nest”
Tang Xiao returned to the login screen in a daze.
Before he could recover, the system displayed the newly unlocked CG.
The dormitory lobby lay shrouded in darkness.
Bloodred hyphae covered every corner, but the thickest mass had gathered around a single body.
A body that had long since been reduced to bone.
The crimson creature had grown larger.
It occupied the remains possessively, like a dragon guarding its treasure, leaving no opening through which another might steal even the smallest fragment.
Scarlet filaments grew between the pale bones, sensuous and uncanny.
Death and rebirth had become inseparable.
CG Description:
You became the nest from which It would grow.
Tang Xiao stared at the screen.
What the hell?
That was it?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down.
Then he opened them and looked at the CG twice more.
The game’s artwork was, infuriatingly, magnificent.
Even in such a disturbing image, the pale skeleton and crimson fungus created an exquisite opposition: death and new life, stillness and motion, purity and corruption.
It suited Tang Xiao’s tastes almost perfectly.
The only problem was that he had been the prey.
The sensation of being dragged into the abyss seemed to linger in his mind. Tang Xiao rubbed his arms, unsettled.
No wonder the game was considered so difficult.
Who could possibly clear something this unforgiving?
And what was wrong with that ridiculous main quest?
Tang Xiao immediately opened the customer-support menu and submitted a complaint.
His stated reasons were the absurd romance storyline and the fact that the supposed romance target had eaten him without hesitation.
No matter how many complaints he sent, however, customer support responded with the same cold, mechanical phrases.
The game is currently in closed beta. Your issue has been recorded.
Main storylines cannot be changed once activated.
The messages might as well have said:
Play the game or get lost.
Tang Xiao was not about to tolerate that kind of treatment.
He gave the game a one-star rating, awarded customer service another one-star review, and prepared to log out.
Perhaps the threat of a poor rating possessed supernatural power.
In the very next second, the previously indifferent customer-service system transformed completely.
Thank you for your valuable feedback! Although activated main storylines cannot be replaced, we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. A save function has now been added to your account. Please use it to continue pursuing your designated storyline!
A notification appeared before him.
Return to save point?
Tang Xiao froze.
He opened the system menu.
There really was a save-and-load function.
He was certain it had not been there the first time he logged in.
Was it a new feature?
Tang Xiao considered the matter and decided not to quit immediately.
He inspected the available save points.
At present, there was only one: the moment he had first entered the research facility.
To unlock a second save point, he needed to complete the first stage of the main quest.
In other words, he had to raise the little monster’s Affection.
Remembering how his previous attempt had ended, Tang Xiao’s expression darkened.
What kind of logic was that?
It had killed him, yet he was the one expected to earn its affection?
As a gaming streamer, Tang Xiao had experienced nearly every genre imaginable.
Romance games were the one exception.
He was a complete and undisputed novice. Give him a monster to fight or a level to solve and he would manage. Ask him to navigate a relationship system, however, and he was entirely out of his depth.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Perhaps he should try to buy another beta account online. A storyline centered on raising Affection seemed completely beyond his abilities.
After some thought, he decided to attempt a few more runs before giving up.
The game, however, seemed personally determined to torment him.
On his second run, he entered the dormitory before the creature arrived.
It found him and killed him anyway.
On his third, he demanded to leave the facility immediately after logging in. The guards escorted him outside—only for the monster to break out of the complex, pursue him, and devour him.
On his fourth attempt, Tang Xiao tried a different approach.
If Subject 425’s Affection was the goal, perhaps he could avoid the opening death by rescuing it.
The moment he entered the laboratory, he waited until the others were distracted and shut down the enclosure’s power supply.
Babbitt flew into a rage and ordered the guards to seize him.
Tang Xiao was about to be executed on the spot when the little monster shattered the window, wrapped itself around him, and carried him out of the facility.
That run came closer than any of the others to resembling an actual romance game.
Throughout their escape, the fungal creature kept Tang Xiao enclosed within its fibers. It shielded him from every bullet and eliminated anything that threatened him before it could draw near.
Even Tang Xiao, hopelessly inexperienced with romance games, eventually began to smile after being rescued several times.
At last, he thought he could see the faint light of a proper route opening before him.
The two of them escaped the research facility.
Tang Xiao assumed the storyline was finally going to develop like a normal relationship route.
Then the creature carried him into a secluded cave.
Dense hyphae covered the soil, forming a crimson lichen that looked as though it had been woven from blood.
The moment Tang Xiao was placed on the ground, he sensed that something was wrong.
The creature’s gaze remained cold and ravenous.
Even someone who had never played a romance game could tell that this was not how one looked at a beloved companion.
It still regarded him as food.
When the monster restrained him again, Tang Xiao pulled out the thermal ray g*n he had stolen from Babbitt during their escape.
He aimed it at the surrounding hyphae and pulled the trigger.
The high-temperature beam struck its target.
A hole burned through the fungal mass, splitting the crimson growth across the cave floor.
Tang Xiao seized the opportunity and tried to run.
The enraged hyphae dragged him back into the cave before he could escape.
A strange tingling sensation spread across his body.
The game had disabled pain, but it had not blocked his sense of touch.
Tang Xiao lowered his head.
The hyphae had divided into countless filaments, many too fine to be seen clearly. They pressed beneath his skin and continued inward.
His entire body became immobile.
The unbearable tingling flooded his senses. Tang Xiao trembled uncontrollably, feeling as though every cell in his body was being invaded.
Perhaps that was exactly what was happening.
As his health approached zero, dark specks spread across his vision.
Images flashed through his mind like fragments of memory.
He recalled a photograph he had once seen.
Trees were not necessarily the true rulers of a forest.
Beneath them lay inconspicuous fungal networks. Their hyphae entered the cells of tree roots, forming hidden systems through which water and nutrients could be exchanged.
Whenever a tree was torn from the earth, dense strands of white fungus often clung to its roots.
Those delicate filaments were the unseen power beneath the forest.
Now the same thing was being done to him.
The hyphae he had once seen only in photographs were extending throughout his own body.
The thought that he might fuse with the creature at the cellular level sent a tidal wave of terror through him.
He could scarcely breathe.
Tang Xiao desperately summoned the system menu, attempting to force himself out of the game.
“Wait! Subject 425, I’m not—”
The hyphae seemed to sense its prey’s final resistance.
They tightened instantly.
Tang Xiao could no longer move so much as a finger. The filaments covered his mouth, silencing even the faintest sound, while his muscles ceased to obey him.
Are you seriously telling me this is a romance game?
The cave fell utterly silent.
Even the insects and bats that had once inhabited it had fled, driven away by the presence of something they instinctively understood to be monstrous.
Only the creature and its chosen offering remained.
The red fungal growth spread beneath Tang Xiao like a ceremonial altar. Against it, his white laboratory coat appeared almost luminous.
He lay pinned upon the crimson surface, his pale throat arched as he struggled for breath.
Just before his consciousness disappeared completely, Tang Xiao met the creature’s orange-yellow eye.
Its gaze was cold and appraising.
There was also a trace of satisfaction within it—the patience of a predator that had already closed its jaws around its prey and now needed only to wait.
In that moment, Tang Xiao’s pupils contracted.
He finally understood.
A hunter did not fall in love with its prey.
A tiger did not love a rabbit.
A human being did not love the meal arranged upon his plate.
From the very beginning, they had never occupied equal positions.
The creature desired Tang Xiao in the way a bear desired honey or a tiger pursued a rabbit. Neither would care what the rabbit thought. Neither would concern itself with whatever strange gestures the rabbit made while trying to escape.
The little monster had not been protecting Tang Xiao.
It had been protecting its prize.
It had searched for a place where nothing could interrupt it—a secure territory in which it could claim him completely.
Tang Xiao’s wishes had never entered into the matter.
From beginning to end, Subject 425 had not regarded his actions as meaningful at all.
Damn it.
His heart rate surged to its highest point.
The headset’s emergency logout system activated.
As Tang Xiao was forcibly removed from the game, he raised a trembling middle finger toward the creature in his mind.
Just you wait.
I’ll be back.
Health: 0
Game Over
CG Unlocked: “The Aberrant Tree”
CG Description:
Perhaps humanity would never learn where the strange tree had come from. They would know only that it grew with impossible speed—and, in the space of a moment, claimed the Earth as its own.