bdsm-fiction Chapter 3 Extra Meal
Chapter 3 Extra Meal
The night was as dark as spilled ink, swallowing up the last remaining scattered lights in the western suburbs until nothing was left.
The outline of Shuguang Elementary School crouched in the darkness, like the corpse of a giant beast whose internal organs had been emptied, leaving only its skeleton. Most of the surrounding wall had collapsed, and the main teaching building was just an empty concrete shell, its windows blackened like gouged-out eye sockets. Wild grasses grew to waist height, rustling in the night wind, perfectly masking any other sounds that shouldn't be there.
Cheng Songmao was behind a broken wall, dressed in dark civilian clothes. He wasn't carrying any police equipment—those things were more like decorations here. His player backpack contained only a few items: a powerful flashlight that could also be used as a blunt weapon, a multi-functional dagger he'd haggled over for ages at a stall in Ling Street—a dagger that could be used to open cans, peel fruit, and stab monsters—and a cold, black wooden box in his pocket—a "Special Medicine for Indigestion" from Rong Qizhai.
The coordinates Rong Shou provided were so precise, it was like having the North Star, pointing directly to the old auditorium behind the abandoned playground. He observed the perimeter for nearly an hour, confirming the positions of several sentries—not professional, more like sleepwalkers, their movements stiff, their eyes vacant, but they faintly exuded that familiar, nauseatingly sweet and fishy smell.
"Nursery..." Cheng Song silently pondered the word. It looked fresher than the one under the bridge, and probably provided some extra satiety, though the danger level would also increase accordingly.
He moved forward like a shadow, using the weeds and ruins as cover. The passive bonuses from the Blacklight Virus made his agility, strength, and senses surpass those of ordinary players of the same level, especially in scenarios that required stealth and explosive power, where he was practically in his element. He could hear his own heartbeat, smell the increasingly strong, rotten, sweet scent in the wind, and sense the wandering, chaotic, and malicious "polluted energy field" in the area ahead.
The door to the old auditorium was ajar, and a flickering, unnatural green light shone through the crack, like a filter from a cheap horror movie.
Cheng Song pressed himself against the door, peeking through the crack like a pervert.
The sight inside made his stomach clench reflexively—not out of fear, but out of some kind of instinctive disgust at "seeing something dirty."
The floor in the center of the auditorium had been cleared, and a huge, distorted symbol had been drawn with a suspicious dark red liquid, similar to the one in the memory fragment dropped by the monster under the bridge, but more detailed and with more complex textures. Around the symbol, five figures, men and women, knelt, dressed in shabby clothes, their eyes rolled back, muttering incantations, their bodies trembling slightly, and dark green patches resembling moss or living things had appeared on their exposed skin.
At the top of the symbol stood a tall figure in a tattered black robe. His back to the door, he held aloft his hands, cradling a jar of viscous liquid emitting a strong green glow. The liquid writhed slowly within the jar, as if it possessed a life of its own, which was utterly bizarre.
The man in black robes chanted something in a hoarse, inhuman language. As he chanted, the green light from the jar grew brighter, and the symbols on the ground began to glow. The five kneeling figures trembled more violently, the patches on their bodies spread more rapidly, and strange hoarse sounds came from their throats, as if they were enduring considerable pain, or perhaps anticipating something.
"I've caught the live broadcast." Cheng Song thought to himself, knowing he couldn't wait for the "story animation" to finish.
He took a deep breath, stopped hiding, kicked open the door, and rushed inside!
"Bang!" The door slammed against the wall, the loud noise shattering the eerie "immersive experience" inside. The five kneeling figures trembled, the black-robed man's chanting abruptly stopped, and he turned around sharply.
Beneath the hood was a pale face covered in frenzied wrinkles, with eyes and the same "murky green skin" as the one in the bridge hole.
"Another... sacrifice? No... you are..." The man in black robes seemed to sense something; his green eyes widened suddenly, his voice filled with surprise, doubt, and a hint of greed, "You... possess a better 'seed'!"
He didn't give the order, but the five kneeling men seemed to receive a command and suddenly sprang up from the ground! Their movements were even faster than the one under the bridge, their joints made strange cracking sounds, their fingers twisted and lengthened, black viscous fluid seeping from their fingertips, and they roared as they pounced as if they were facing the neighbor who had cuckolded them.
Instead of retreating, Cheng Song advanced, sidestepping the first attacker's claws with a sliding step. He then grabbed a nearby discarded desk leg and delivered a powerful blow to the attacker's knee. "Crack!" A pleasant sound of bone breaking echoed. The man merely staggered, seemingly feeling no pain, and turned to pounce again!
At the same time, the other four surrounded him, their movements stiff but swift, sealing off his escape route. The man in black robes stood in the center of the symbol, holding the jar high, its green light intensifying, as if preparing something.
"Tsk, they're quite good at cooperating." Cheng Song's eyes turned cold, knowing he couldn't let the other side's casting bar expand.
The black light within the body, sensing the threat and the presence of something akin to "one of its own," began to boil and roar uncontrollably, yearning to break free, devour, and destroy.
"Alright, dinner's ready." He muttered under his breath, releasing the pressure on the virus.
The muscles in his right arm bulged instantly, and the blood vessels beneath the skin turned dark red, bulged, and spread! Black, lifelike substances surged from his shoulder, covering and solidifying his right arm! In less than the time it takes for a heartbeat to pass, his entire right arm and shoulder were covered with a layer of hideous, flowing dark red "biomass carapace." The arm disappeared, replaced by a huge, rough-looking, yet destructive "black bone hammer"—form switch: hammer form.
"Roar—!" The infected one pounced on the spot, opening its mouth to reveal its mutated fangs and trying to bite.
Cheng Song didn't even aim properly; his carapace-covered right arm swept across the ground with a dull whistling sound!
"Bang!!!"
A dull thud. The infected person was hit from the side as if by a vehicle, their body twisted and deformed, flying sideways to crash into the wall, sliding softly to the ground, and then falling silent.
The other four contaminated individuals seemed to be stunned by the sudden burst of violent power, their movements momentarily slowed.
"A perfect opportunity!" Cheng Song stomped his foot, creating fine cracks in the concrete ground, and charged straight at the black-robed man in the center like a cannonball! The huge bone hammer was raised high and smashed down with the force to crush everything!
The man in black robes screamed, and the jar in his hand emitted a bright green light, forming a thin, viscous green shield in front of him!
The bone hammer slammed into the light shield, producing a teeth-grinding "crunch"! The green light flickered violently, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the shield's surface, but it did not shatter immediately! The enormous recoil caused Cheng Song's right arm to go numb, and even the armor covering it developed tiny cracks.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, the man in black robes retreated, chanting rapid and strange syllables. The green liquid in the jar surged out as if alive, transforming into several viscous energy tentacles that wrapped around Cheng Song!
Cheng Song drew his dagger with his left hand, channeled his power, and ruthlessly severed two tentacles. The severed tentacles continued to writhe wildly after hitting the ground, emitting an even stronger stench. But more tentacles coiled around him, restricting his movements.
The other four contaminated individuals pounced again!
"Again?" A fierce glint flashed in Cheng Song's eyes. He no longer tried to dodge or block, but instead concentrated his power on the bone hammer in his right arm, causing the dark red patterns under the armor to shine brightly.
"Break it for me!!"
He roared, his voice no longer human, but more like the howl of a wild beast. The bone hammer slammed a second time with even greater ferocity onto the same spot on the green light shield!
"Snap—Splash!"
The light shield finally gave way and shattered completely! Flying green energy fragments, like exploding shrapnel grenades, grazed Cheng Song's cheeks and arms, leaving small bloody marks. The bone hammer, undeterred, slammed heavily into the canister the black-robed man had hastily raised to block!
"Bang!"
The jar exploded! Thick green liquid splattered everywhere, most of it soaking the black-robed man himself. He let out a piercing scream, and his skin hissed and emitted billowing white smoke from where it touched the liquid.
But Cheng Song wasn't faring any better. The overload of his right arm and the impact of the energy fragments left him with a tightness in his chest and a sweet taste in his throat. A tearing pain shot through the mutated area of his right arm; the cracks in the carapace widened, and a small piece even peeled off, revealing a bizarre, crimson, writhing tissue that was neither flesh nor scales. Worse still, an intense, almost overwhelming hunger and violent urge surged through his brain like a tsunami!
He endured the dizziness and excruciating pain, took a step forward, and his left-hand dagger, like a lightning bolt across the night sky, precisely pierced the black-robed man's gaping mouth in agony, exiting from the back of his head!
The screams abruptly ceased. The man in the black robe, his eyes wide and tinged with green, fell straight backward.
The remaining four infected froze instantly as the jar shattered and the man in the black robe died. The green light in their eyes dimmed rapidly, and the patches on their bodies stopped spreading. Like puppets whose strings had suddenly been cut, they collapsed to the ground, motionless.
The auditorium fell silent again, with only Cheng Song's heavy breathing and the faint sound of green liquid slowly flowing on the ground.
He stood there, his chest heaving. The jagged bone hammer and carapace on his right arm were slowly receding and shrinking back into his body, but the process was slow and painful, as if tearing at his muscles. Large, unnatural dark red lines remained on his skin, like scars from severe burns, burning with pain.
"Phew, it's finally over." Cheng Song breathed a sigh of relief.
He walked to the black-robed man's "corpse," suppressing his nausea, and with his fingers, which had regained human form but were still trembling, he felt around. Inside the black robe's inner pocket, he found a cold, metallic badge, neither gold nor iron, heavy in his hand, engraved with a twisted, incomprehensible symbol, faintly emitting energy fluctuations. Besides the badge, there was also a small whistle, seemingly carved from some kind of black bone.
He wiped the badge and whistle clean and put them away. He glanced again at the pool of green liquid and the several corpses on the ground; he couldn't just leave these things there. Even if the force behind them didn't investigate, attracting the attention of the city bureau was still troublesome, and he didn't want to stay up several more nights writing work reports.
What followed was a long and grueling cleanup. With his remaining strength, he devoured and decomposed every unusual trace at the scene—corpses, liquids, even the contaminated floor. Each "devour" came with the double debuff of memory fragments and energy shock, giving him a splitting headache and causing his vision to blur. Especially after devouring the black-robed figure, the influx of "information" became even more massive and chaotic. Besides the ritual images, he also saw several blurry, chilling figures and heard a place name and a code name…
When the last trace of the abnormal substance disappeared from his palm, Cheng Song was nearly exhausted. He leaned against the wall, retching violently, but nothing came out. His clothes were soaked with sweat and felt as cold as ice. The abnormality in his right arm had finally completely subsided, but the burning pain under his skin and the pervasive weakness told him that this "extra meal" had come at a high price.
He dared not linger, forcing himself to walk quickly away from the auditorium, through the ruins, and found his bicycle hidden in the shadows on the outskirts. His arms were trembling as he mounted it.
The cold wind at dawn felt like knives on his face, but it did sober him up a bit. He turned into an empty alley, and unable to hold on any longer, he fell off the car and leaned against the cold corner of the wall, panting heavily.
At the edge of my vision, without warning, lines of cold, faintly glowing silver text appeared, as if directly imprinted on my retina:
[Related Key Detected: Emblem of the Corrupted Cult]
[Optional team dungeon quest trigger]
[Mission Name: Annihilate the "Hatching Farm"]
[Task Type: Team Collaboration (Timed Match) / Scenario Exploration]
[Estimated Difficulty: C+ ~ B-]
[Mission Description: Clear the infiltration point "Hatchery" to prevent the further spread of "Seed of Corruption". Participation is optional.]
[Rewards: Points, items, and intelligence will be awarded based on contribution.]
[WARNING: This infiltration point is linked to the player's city. If it is not eliminated, corruption will soon descend upon the Overworld on a large scale.]
[Accept the match? (Decision within 12 hours)]
The cold text floated, with a small, constantly jumping countdown in the lower right corner: 11:59:58...
Cheng Song stared intently at the three words "Hatching Ground"—this was the code name for the location in the black-robed man's "memory fragments"!
Almost simultaneously, the black bone whistle in his arms suddenly trembled slightly, emitting an extremely faint, almost hallucinatory "hissing" sound, like countless insects rubbing their wings.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He stiffly pulled it out; the screen lit up—his mother had sent several WeChat messages.
"Xiaosong, why aren't you home yet, it's so late?"
"Saturday afternoon at 2 PM, Starbucks, don't forget!"
"The girl's name is Li Wan, and here's a photo [photo]. What a pretty girl! Talk to her nicely and try to bring her home this time!"
"Wear your new shirt! Did you hear me?"
The photo shows a young girl in a light-colored sweater with a gentle smile, standing in the sunlight with blooming cherry blossoms in the background.
Cheng Song leaned against the cold, dirty corner of the wall, his left hand clutching a chilling, eerie badge that seemed to still bear the last vestiges of the black-robed man's fear. An ominous whistle vibrated from the bone whistle in his chest. Before him were cold, inhuman system task notifications. The light from his phone screen in his right hand illuminated his face, stained with dust and dried blood; it displayed messages from his mother, filled with worldly expectations.
The pain in my right arm persisted. Inside my body, the darkness, which had subsided somewhat after its feast, seemed to have grown larger and hungrier.
With trembling hands, he pulled a cigarette case from his soaked pocket, took one out, and put it in his mouth. The lighter seemed to be out of fuel; it took several tries to light. The orange flame flickered in the dim alley, illuminating the bluish-gray smoke rising from between his fingers.
Saturday, 2 PM.
System task, 12-hour countdown.
The bone whistle vibrating in my arms...
"Hatching Ground"...
And then there's the increasingly uncontrollable "monster" inside my body.
The smoke inhaled into his lungs, bringing a slight "numbness." He looked up at the narrow, starless sliver of night sky above the alley and slowly exhaled.
Street cleaner?
He twitched the corners of his mouth, but there was no trace of "smile" in his expression.
This time, it seems we're really going to break into this bunch of scum's lair. And what on earth is this inexplicably vibrating bone whistle in my arms?
After taking a deep breath, he flicked away the cigarette butt, leaned against the wall to slowly stand up, pushed the old bicycle, and staggered into the deeper darkness of the early morning.
Ahead lies the gentleness of "everyday life" and the cruelty of "abnormality".
He had to log in and out between the two worlds.