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Chapter 38: “I sucked the blood of three Cantonese people from the other day and got too ‘heaty.'”
Wang Zheng, 26 years old, a local resident, unmarried, and unemployed, became a semi-zombified human two years ago due to an ineffective blockade of a virus infection. He was currently undergoing regular check-ups at the hospital and the disease control center to control the progression of the virus infection.
Lei Chi called the local police station in his area, but they were also quite helpless. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to take the case; they couldn’t.
“This year’s budget is too tight. Many of our police officers can’t even get their regular overtime pay. The zombie virus vaccine, which we used to buy in bulk every year, only has fifty doses this year,” the personnel at the police station were quite candid. “Our department rules state that we can only use the vaccine in large-scale incidents involving semi-zombified human populations. When Wang Zheng came to report the case, he said it was a missing person case, not a mass incident. We can’t use the vaccine. Without the vaccine, there’s no way we can assign any police officer to handle his case; it’s a death sentence.”
Lei Chi had to explain again, “Wang Zheng, like other semi-zombified humans under family supervision, receives regular medication injections at the disease control center. His virus activity is very low now, and the infection risk is almost zero. As long as he continues to take medication and receive injections, he is just like any other person.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Captain Lei, we really can’t take the case. Without the vaccine, even if there’s a 0.1% chance of infection, we can’t accept it,” the police officer said. “We only handle cases involving semi-zombified humans and underground people under sufficient protection. I hope you can understand.”
Lei Chi hung up the phone. Wang Zheng sat in the corner of the office, watching Lei Chi from a distance. When he noticed Lei Chi’s gaze on him, he immediately lowered his head and instinctively adjusted the hood of his raincoat. Even indoors, he didn’t take off his hat.
After some thought, Lei Chi contacted the police station again.
The next day, the chief of the Criminal Investigation Division received Lei Chi’s report, and he too sighed and expressed his frustration.
“This doesn’t follow the procedure.” He felt like he was constantly saying the same thing to Lei Chi. “We don’t have the authority to take the case. All cases involving special humans must be transferred to the local police station before we can handle them.”
Lei Chi responded, “The case has already been transferred and registered.”
The division chief scratched his head incessantly. “Transferred? They just gave you a case registration notice, and that’s it? What about the initial statements and investigation interviews? Are we supposed to do all of that?”
Lei Chi replied, “We can handle it if necessary.”
The division chief continued to scratch his head. “Handle it? This is absurd! A missing person case, and we’re supposed to allocate manpower for the investigation? They’re just passing the buck and avoiding responsibility.”
Lei Chi stood silently.
“Just because one of the parties involved is a special human, does that mean the case becomes our responsibility? This semi-zombified person and their parents are ordinary humans, right? He’s reporting his parents’ disappearance—the disappearance of two ordinary people! What does that have to do with us?”
Lei Chi remained calm and upright.
“Last month was the same. Two sentinels were insulting each other—just a family dispute. That woman went to the Women’s Federation for help, and they pushed it onto us. Are we, the Criminal Investigation Division, responsible for this? Just because the parties involved are special humans, should we be handling everything? Is that fair? That woman is indeed a sentinel, but her sentinel status has nothing to do with this kind of dispute!”
The division chief glanced at Lei Chi and noticed that Lei Chi was staring at the word “calm” on the wall behind him, realizing that Lei Chi appeared to be listening attentively but was actually lost in thought.
“…Alright, since you’ve already taken the case,” the division chief finally said, taking a sip of tea that was scalding hot, making him grimace and spit out tea leaves. “You’ve taken it, so your team will investigate. I don’t have any extra manpower to assign to you.”
Lei Chi finally responded, “Understood.”
“Lei Chi, why do you always do things this way?” The division chief stared at him, “I know you too well. Is this the way all werewolves are? Open to suggestions, but keeping the same attitude.”
Lei Chi responded again, “Yes.”
As he left the division chief’s office, he could still hear the division chief muttering behind him, “Retire already” and “Quit the job.”
Lei Chi went to Wang Zheng’s home with his colleagues, and during the car ride, he began to organize the information he had gathered from Wang Zheng the previous night.
After graduating from college, Wang Zheng worked as a salesperson for a water purifier company. Two years ago, he was attacked by a semi-zombified human during a customer visit, and he became infected with the zombie virus. The company refused to compensate him and only provided him with 100,000 yuan in medical expenses before laying him off. The initial treatment for the virus was expensive, and the 100,000 yuan was quickly exhausted, but Wang Zheng eventually became a semi-zombified human.
Afterward, he didn’t look for another job and continued to live with his parents.
Three days ago, Wang Zheng discovered that his parents were not at home and hadn’t returned all night. Concerned because of their old age, he went out to look for them but couldn’t find them. He couldn’t reach his parents on their phones, and all the relatives and friends he contacted claimed not to have seen his parents or received any calls from them. Wang Zheng decided to report their disappearance and eventually ended up at the Crisis Management Office.
“The place he lives is quite far away,” Xiao Liu, who was driving, said. “Fuxingsan Village is a well-known gathering place for migrant workers from other areas. Why would the locals live there?”
“He sold his house to pay for treatment,” Lei Chi said, looking at his notes from the previous night. “And according to him, it was his parents’ decision to move, to get away from the area where Wang Zheng was active, to spare him from feeling upset.”
“Do you think he’s lost contact with his friends and colleagues from before?” Xiao Liu asked.
Lei Chi thought for a moment. “I’m not sure; he didn’t mention it.”
Xiao Liu sighed, “Special humans, huh…”
“Special” was originally meant to be a dividing line, a distinction imposed by society. Lei Chi didn’t allow himself to dwell on it any further. This was not a problem he could understand or solve by simply thinking about it or coming to conclusions.
Wang Zheng’s home was located in an old neighborhood within Fuxingsan Village, and from the building’s structure and style, it was at least fifty or sixty years old. When Lei Chi and Xiao Liu rang the doorbell at Wang Zheng’s home, they noticed several small writings on the door, clearly written by children based on the handwriting and the height of the writing.
“Monster” “Go Die,” and similar words.
The wall showed clear signs of recent repainting, but the words were all new. It was as if the homeowner had initially made an effort to prevent these words from appearing but later lost the energy to care. The hallway was relatively clean, which made Wang Zheng’s household stand out even more.
Wang Zheng opened the door and invited Lei Chi and Xiao Liu inside.
As soon as they entered the house, they began to assess the surroundings. It was a two-bedroom apartment with a living room, approximately 70 square meters, and it was very well-organized, despite having some clutter.
“My parents’ suitcases and some of their clothes are missing, and I couldn’t find their IDs,” Wang Zheng stood by the door and said.
The weather was getting warmer, but Wang Zheng was still dressed in long-sleeved clothes. His upper garment also had a hood, and, like yesterday, he had the hood pulled over his head to cover his face. Lei Chi thought at least he wasn’t wearing a mask or glasses at home, which indicated some level of trust from Wang Zheng.
Lei Chi sat in the living room while Xiao Liu opened his notepad. Lei Chi instinctively glanced at the shoe rack in the hallway and noticed two pairs of large-sized slippers on the floor.
“… Their shoes are missing too,” Wang Zheng said.
Shoes, clothing, suitcases, and identity cards were all missing. Lei Chi wondered why Wang Zheng reported his parents as missing. The most likely scenario was that his parents had left without telling him—or didn’t intend to tell him.
Xiao Liu raised this question that had crossed Lei Chi’s mind, but Wang Zheng reacted strongly, saying, “It’s impossible! My parents would never leave and not tell me.”
After moving to Fuxingsan Village from the city center, Wang Zheng had rarely left the house. Both of his elderly parents were retired, and they would prepare meals, occasionally go out with friends, and take short walks. However, they would always prepare meals, knowing their son needed to be taken care of, and they had never stayed out all night.
Apart from their relatives, Wang Zheng didn’t know if his parents had made any new friends in Fuxingsan Village. After the visit, Lei Chi assigned a task to Xiao Liu, saying, “Check their phone signal. If the two of them really went on a trip, they couldn’t have done so without using their phones. Starting tomorrow, you and a few others from our team who don’t have urgent tasks will come to visit the neighbors in the vicinity and ask more questions.”
As they were about to get into the car, Lei Chi noticed the surveillance cameras set up on the street.
“Retrieve the surveillance footage from three days ago,” Lei Chi said. “And also, go to the nearby police station to inquire if there have been any unidentified elderly individuals taken to the hospital in a coma recently or any unidentified bodies waiting to be claimed.”
Xiao Liu asked, “Captain Lei.”
Lei Chi responded, “Yes?”
Xiao Liu said, “Take a look outside.”
The car was parked in front of Wang Zheng’s building. At that moment, several people, both men and women, who appeared to be quite elderly residents of the area, were standing under the trees. They were observing the police car, which was clearly different from regular police cars, and quietly discussing the words “Crisis Management Office” written on it. Some of them covered their noses and mouths, and their gazes were directed toward the balcony on the second floor of Wang Zheng’s home, with an underlying sense of nervousness.
“Uh-oh,” Xiao Liu said, “I shouldn’t have driven this car today. Now they might think Wang Zheng is in trouble, and it’ll be even harder for him to move around in this area.”
“Let’s go,” Lei Chi thought. No additional evidence was needed to reinforce Wang Zheng’s status as a “semi-zombified human.”
Compared to the busy Criminal Investigation Division, the members of the Psychological Adjustment Department had finally finished all the work related to the “Sea Area” examination for the college entrance examination.
“Xiaoyuan is really beautiful today,” Xie Zijing complimented her with a sweet smile. “With those fiery red lips, it’s like you ate someone and didn’t wipe your mouth.”
Bai Xiaoyuan waved her hand, and her sand cat rushed over from her desk, pouncing on Xie Zijing and scratching him like crazy. Xie Zijing quickly grabbed the little creature and held it in his arms, nuzzling it with his face. Bai Xiaoyuan shivered all over, saying, “Xie Zijing, did you use my cat as a towel?!”
Today, she finally had time to put on makeup, wore a new dress, and smelled wonderful. Tang Cuo had been asking if she was going on a date with her boyfriend.
With their work finally completed, Qin Ge was in a very good mood and, seeing Tang Cuo start the conversation, quickly seized the opportunity, asking, “What does your boyfriend do at the National Library? Is he a librarian?”
“No, he works on data maintenance,” Bai Xiaoyuan replied, taking her sand cat back and cradling it lovingly. “The National Library has a database for historical books from the western regions, and he’s in charge of that.”
Qin Ge was surprised. White Xiaoyuan’s story sounded convincing and didn’t seem like a lie.
“IT? A programmer?” Xie Zijing raised an eyebrow in amazement. “Xiaoyuan, he’ll go bald in the future; can’t you see that?”
Bai Xiaoyuan dismissed his comment and turned to Qin Ge and Tang Cuo, saying, “He’s currently working on a project related to establishing a historical book repository in the western region. I’ve heard there are several books related to the Jiwu Temple.”
Qin Ge and Tang Cuo were both taken aback by this revelation.
Bai Xiaoyuan’s sand cat wrapped its tail around her finger and let out a soft purr. Bai Xiaoyuan remained calm and said, “I found out about this through my own means. You guys didn’t know?”
Tang Cuo was confused, “Know what?”
After a moment of contemplation, Qin Ge finally understood, “We are the orphans of the Luquan incident from back then.”
The office fell silent in an instant. It was the first time Xie Zijing had seen such a surprised expression on Tang Cuo’s face. Tang Cuo didn’t hunch his shoulders or shift his gaze; he stared directly at Qin Ge for a while before slowly saying, “Bai Xiaoyuan is Bai Fan’s niece, and my dad is Tang Yiran. But… there are no Qin surnamed individuals in the Falcon Unit.”
“My father is Yang Chuan, and my mother is Wen Xian,” Qin Ge said. “After they passed away, I was adopted by Qin Shuangshuang, and to avoid trouble, I had my name changed.”
Tang Cuo fell silent.
“Gao Tianyue placed the three of us in the same department for a reason, didn’t she?” Bai Xiaoyuan looked at Qin Ge.
Qin Ge had to be honest, “After Aunt Qin adopted me, she never mentioned the other children in the Falcon Unit. Sorry, Xiaoyuan, I knew you’re Bai Fan’s niece, with the Bai surname being quite rare. But Tang Cuo… I just found out today.”
Tang Cuo said, “Qin Ge, then I guess both of us going into the archives room have the same purpose. The top-secret shelves should contain the archives from the Luquan incident.”
The three of them exchanged glances, once again sinking into silence. Qin Ge looked at Xie Zijing, who didn’t seem to be excluded from their conversation but instead appeared to be thinking about something.
“Do all three of you feel that something was off about the Luquan incident from back then?” Xie Zijing approached Qin Ge and asked while dragging a chair.
“Of course, something was off,” Bai Xiaoyuan replied immediately. “What kind of disaster can kill an entire unit of over a dozen people instantly? And it was the best division of the Crisis Management Office back then… I’ve been investigating it since I joined the Crisis Management Office and supposedly had access to everyone’s secrets, but that’s just a way of speaking. I still can’t find out who was responsible for investigating the Luquan incident or what they discovered; I have absolutely no idea.”
An invisible whirlpool gradually expanded, growing stronger, as if it were about to engulf everyone.
But at that moment, Qin Ge suddenly realized that he had formed an alliance.
Because of their shared secret and their shared past, they immediately formed an alliance upon learning each other’s identities.
“Keep investigating,” he decisively said. “We can’t give up. The Luquan incident has been so tightly covered up; there must be something wrong behind it.”
Tang Cuo snapped out of his daze and continued, “This department was established under Director Gao’s leadership. He personally interviewed Bai Xiaoyuan and I. He knew that the three of us were Falcon Unit’s children, and he gathered us together for a reason.”
A thought that Qin Ge had never considered suddenly exploded in his mind.
“There are no Luquan archives on the top-secret shelves!” He almost shouted, “Gao Tianyue wants to investigate the Luquan incident too, which is why he brought the three of us together. He has the highest authority and can access the top-secret shelves. But he still gathered us… because the information about Luquan, even Gao Tianyue can’t access it.”
Xie Zijing said, “Special Management Committee.”
“Exactly,” Qin Ge said with a newfound calmness. “The Luquan incident’s files are under the Special Management Committee, so even the director of the Crisis Management Office can’t access them.”
Unexpected obstacles had emerged, and the three of them fell silent again.
At this point, Xie Zijing spoke up, “What if we don’t look at the files directly but try to find the people who handled the case back then?”
Bai Xiaoyuan could only reiterate, “I’ve tried that, and I couldn’t find anyone.”
“Of course, you couldn’t find them on your own,” Xie Zijing said with a smile. “The Falcon Unit falls under the jurisdiction of the Field Operations Department, and the Field Operations Department falls under the Criminal Investigation Division. What if we start with people from the Criminal Investigation Division?”
Bai Xiaoyuan said, “The people from the Criminal Investigation Division are easy to get along with, but it’s hard to ask them deeply, especially those who handle core information. They tend to be very tight-lipped, and I also can’t access the management-level individuals.”
Xie Zijing suggested, “Who says you can’t access them? We have Lei Chi, who gives us candy every day.”
Bai Xiaoyuan: “…Not good!”
Xie Zijing and Qin Ge simultaneously responded: “Very good.”
This afternoon, Qin Ge and Xie Zijing set off to deliver the materials for the college entrance examination to the Special Management Committee, while Tang Cuo took a half-day off to relax.
Compared to Qin Ge and Bai Xiaoyuan, it seemed like Tang Cuo was the most impacted. Qin Ge knew that he was always burdened with many thoughts, and recalling past events at this time might be quite distressing for him. So, he generously gave Tang Cuo a day off and suggested he return to work the next afternoon.
“Where are you going? Should I drop you off?” Qin Ge asked.
“I don’t even know where I’m going,” Tang Cuo contemplated, and then, for some reason, he suddenly remembered the big fish swimming in the night sky. “…How about the gym?”
All of a sudden, he really wanted to talk to Gao Shu about that fish.
In the afternoon, the gym was not too crowded. Tang Cuo hadn’t contacted Gao Shu because the idea had come to him suddenly, and it was only after arriving at the gym that he learned Gao Shu was giving a class to other students.
Bai Xiaoyuan had mentioned that Gao Shu was the owner of this gym. Tang Cuo was puzzled, “Does your boss also give classes?”
The consultant looked at him strangely, “Of course. He’s quite passionate about coaching people himself, and he’s been giving you lessons too, hasn’t he?”
Tang Cuo responded, “Oh.”
He felt somewhat uncomfortable inside.
Gao Shu’s class still had half an hour left, and Tang Cuo sat in the lounge area, realizing that from here he could see Gao Shu’s private coaching area. There were only two people there, apart from Gao Shu. Tang Cuo only glanced at the other person for a moment, and he immediately recognized him as a young actor who was currently very popular.
“Do you want to get his autograph or take a picture with him?” The consultant brought him a glass of water. “You can mention it to the boss. The boss has a great relationship with him; we even got complimentary tickets for the staff at his movie premiere.”
Tang Cuo was stunned, “His face is so small… Is he really this handsome in person?”
The consultant replied, “Incredibly handsome! Our boss doesn’t have many students; he selects them himself rather than the other way around. However, they are all handsome guys like this one, and they usually have some social status.”
Tang Cuo said, “…Has anyone ever told you that you have a big mouth?”
The consultant answered, “Yes.”
Tang Cuo kept his mouth shut. The consultant’s words added even more knots to his already uncomfortable feelings. Gao Shu’s students were all people with status and positions, but what about himself? He didn’t understand why Gao Shu had agreed to his request. It was Tang Cuo who had chosen Gao Shu that day, and Gao Shu had responded to him with near impoliteness.
He watched for a while, his gaze fixed on Gao Shu and the handsome man, unable to tear his eyes away. Being handsome was really great. Tang Cuo thought about it for a while, finding it quite uninteresting, and he decided to get up and leave.
More than ten minutes after Gao Shu finished his class, he found out that Tang Cuo had been there. He messaged Tang Cuo but received no response. He called Tang Cuo, but still got no answer.
This was the first time Xie Zijing had come to the Special Management Committee for official business. As soon as he entered, he whispered to Qin Ge, “It’s quite impressive here.”
The lobby of the Special Management Committee was spacious and well-lit, with an area three times larger than that of the Crisis Management Office. It was bustling with people coming and going.
The documents they needed to submit required a few verification stamps on the first floor. After receiving their numbered ticket, they sat down, and Xie Zijing stared at the television in front of him. The TV was playing a promotional video.
[…As everyone knows, the largest and most prominent group of special humans in our country is the Sentinels and Guides…]
“May is Sentinel-Guide Awareness Month,” Qin Ge explained. “Government offices and agencies have to play these promotional videos throughout the month. They won’t repeat, and some of them are quite interesting. They often touch on the romantic relationships, marriages, or later lives of Sentinels and Guides.”
Xie Zijing commented, “So, they have this as well.”
Qin Ge continued, “June is the month for Sea Sprites, July for Underground People, and August for Semi-Zombified Humans. The following months are a combination of other special human categories with fewer numbers. If you want to watch them, you can see them at the Crisis Management Office’s service hall; it’s the same.”
【…Is being able to see spiritual bodies a characteristic of Sentinels and Guides? Not necessarily. The visible light spectrum for regular humans is between 380 and 780 nanometers and may vary slightly from person to person. This means that anything below 380 or above 780 nanometers is not visible to regular humans. However, Sentinels and Guides, due to chromosome mutations affecting their visual system and eye structure, can perceive certain things beyond the 780-nanometer range, such as spiritual bodies…】
Xie Zijing came to the conclusion, “Is this meant for elementary school students? They’re using such colloquial language; it doesn’t sound like a serious public service announcement.”
Qin Ge chuckled, “It’s quite similar, designed to be easily understood.”
【Certain specially designed camera equipment can capture images of spiritual bodies. The visible light spectrum for spiritual entities is around 1000 nanometers, occasionally dipping below 1000. Apart from Sentinels and Guides, some other special individuals with chromosome mutations from birth may also be capable of perceiving this wavelength…】
Xie Zijing let out a yawn. His attention was drawn to a golden head in the service hall.
It was a foreigner in a well-tailored suit who had also noticed Xie Zijing.
With an enthusiastic smile, he walked toward Xie Zijing and Qin Ge.
Xie Zijing was startled. “Francisco! I thought you went back to your home country!”
The young man with golden hair and blue eyes embraced Xie Zijing warmly at first, then turned to hug Qin Ge. After embracing them both, he still felt it wasn’t enough, and he said, “Let’s have a French-style greeting,” as he tried to kiss Qin Ge on the cheek.
Xie Zijing held him back and said, “Hold on a second.”
The young man, whose name was Francisco, approached Qin Ge enthusiastically, “Hello, I’m Francisco, Xie’s college buddy. You can call me by my Chinese name, Ma Yun.”
Qin Ge said, “…”
Xie Zijing pulled him away from Qin Ge and examined him closely. “Why do you have pimples again?”
“I ate the wrong thing,” Francisco said regretfully, “I sucked the blood of three Cantonese people from the other day and got too ‘heaty.'”
The author has something to say:
A few years ago:
Francisco: I’ve found a way to make money for my tuition, which is to smuggle counterfeit goods from China and sell them in my hometown.
Xie Zijing: Isn’t that unnecessary? Aren’t you living off international student subsidies?
Francisco: Chinese people’s blood is too expensive! I have to pay 1,000 RMB for sucking one person’s blood!
Xie Zijing: …You went to the prostitutes, right?
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