Yu Duanhong stood in the shadows of a tenement building in the old city district, holding a detector issued by the Anomaly Management Bureau.
The device wasn't large; its casing was a matte gray, with a monochrome screen on the front and two retractable antennas extending from the side.
When activated, it emitted a low-frequency hum, and the screen lit up with pale green grid-like ripples.
His mission was screening.
He had to screen the people who had fled from Hu City, checking their temporary rentals, hotels, and even the spaces under bridges where they took shelter.
The device could detect residual anomalous energy.
The workflow was simple: find a target, scan them, report any abnormal readings, and wait for a professional disposal team to come and clean it up.
Initially, Yu Duanhong wanted to make an impression.
The ghost inside him, though risky to use, was extremely efficient at dealing with certain strange things.
He had tried it twice.
The first time was in a hotel, where a traveler had a bag of mutant pods hidden in the lining of their suitcase.
When the pods opened, they were filled with a dense cluster of compound eyes.
Yu Duanhong didn't wait for the disposal team; he took action himself.
He raised his hand and knocked once toward the pods, channeling the power of the ghost.
Knock.
The sound of knocking echoed from the void, and a bone-chilling aura filled the air.
The pods withered instantly, the compound eyes shattered, and a murky fluid leaked out.
The second time was in an old man's enamel cup, where he was growing a succulent with thick, fleshy leaves.
The old man said he had found it by the roadside, thought it was pretty, and couldn't bear to throw it away.
Yu Duanhong took one look, and the device's reading spiked into the red.
He didn't bother explaining and simply knocked again.
The succulent rotted immediately, turning into a puddle of foul-smelling sludge.
After those two times, Yu Duanhong stopped.
It wasn't that he didn't want to prove himself; his body simply couldn't take it.
Every time he used the ghost's power, that icy coldness would seep out from his bone marrow and crawl up his spine.
The corpse spots under his skin would spread, his breathing would slow, and his heartbeat would weaken.
He could feel the ghost inside him becoming restless.
It wanted to keep knocking on doors.
He didn't dare use it anymore.
If he kept knocking, he feared he would turn into a corpse that knew nothing but how to knock.
So, after that, Yu Duanhong entered a complete state of slacking off.
He still carried the detector and performed the scans, but once he found an anomaly, he would silently record the coordinates and call for backup.
He never intervened himself.
Some of his colleagues noticed his perfunctory attitude, but no one said anything.
The atmosphere in the Anomaly Management Bureau was currently eerie, and interpersonal relationships were as complex as a spiderweb; no one had the energy to care if a newcomer was coasting.
Moreover, the faint scent of decay clinging to Yu Duanhong and his deathly pale complexion were enough to keep most people away.
...
Although the number of trains from Hu City to Forging City had been drastically reduced, they were still running.
With every arrival, a crowd of panicked people emerged.
At the station's entrance and exit...
Several layers of cordons had been set up, dividing the area into an initial screening zone, a re-examination zone, a temporary isolation and observation zone, and a clearance lane.
Staff members in protective suits moved among them like a swarm of busy ants.
A broadcast played on a loop: "For the safety of all citizens, all arriving passengers are requested to cooperate with the inspection."
Long lines formed in the initial screening zone, the crowd packed together and filled with anxiety.
Their faces were etched with exhaustion and fear, along with a trace of relief—the relief of having escaped.
Personnel from the Anomaly Management Bureau carried their detectors to the edge of the re-examination zone.
The atmosphere here was even more tense.
There were bloodstains on the ground, and scattered near the blood were several broken branches and withered leaves. These were no ordinary plants; the edges of the leaves were lined with fine, serrated teeth, and the veins were a dark purple, twitching slightly.
On the other side, several investigators were currently pinning down a man.
The man's hair was disheveled, his eyes were bloodshot, and low growls escaped his throat. Beneath the skin of his arms, plant roots bulged and writhed as if they were moving inside him.
“Hold him down! Don't let him hurt anyone!”
“Inject the sedative!”
A needle was plunged into the man's neck.
The man struggled for a few moments, his eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.
A woman nearby slumped to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. “What are you doing? He's just sick! What right do you have to treat him like this!”
No one paid her any attention.
Staff members walked over and, half-supporting, half-dragging, led her away from the scene.
An investigator wiped the sweat from his brow, his face clouded with a deep frown.
“It's actually able to cause human mutations now?”
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