ID No. 019 - Chapter 14.1

Chen Yang clutched his bleeding hand, trembling as he shouted, “Chao Jian… stop it… stop hitting her… Chao Jian!”

The young man leaned on one of the crutches, holding another in his hand, tilting his head to look over. His eyes were filled with a chilling red—not the kind caused by a fever, but by pure bloodlust.

It was strange and terrifying.

Chen Yang’s blood ran cold instantly, and he took a step back, unable to hide the fear on his face.

“You…” Chen Yang’s mind went blank, his lips quivering as he stammered, “Calm down.”

Chao Jian’s gaze lowered slightly, silently looking at the blood smeared on the crutch. Suddenly, he laughed. “I’m perfectly calm.”

The crutch swung down once more.

It was the first time Chen Yang had seen the young man smile, but for a few seconds, he didn’t dare to breathe.

The suffocating sound hung in the air.

Chen Yang’s hand throbbed with pain, cold sweat breaking out as blood dripped steadily, pooling into a crimson puddle at his feet. His face was as pale as a ghost’s and his body shivered. “Chao… Chao Jian… I need to bandage this…”

Chao Jian’s lifeless eyes flickered slightly. His bone-white fingers loosened and the blood-stained crutch dropped to the floor. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle.

But he couldn’t open it.

His hand was shaking uncontrollably.

Gritting his teeth, Chen Yang steadied himself, cautiously stepping closer to Chao Jian. When he wasn’t pushed away or attacked, he took another small step, carefully inching toward him. Finally, he picked up the bottle and gave it a slight shake.

Only two pills left.

Chen Yang remembered that the young man always took two at a time, which meant this would be the last of it. He tightened his grip on the bottle for a moment, then opened the cap as if nothing had happened and handed it over.

After taking the pills, Chao Jian’s hands stopped trembling so violently and the bloodthirst faded. He took off his black sports jacket, removed his blue-striped hospital gown, then put the jacket back on, holding the hospital gown in his hand.

“Give me a nail,” Chao Jian rasped.

Chen Yang didn’t have the leisure to wonder how Chao Jian knew he had one; he quickly pulled out a nail and handed it over.

Chao Jian used the nail to tear through the hospital gown with a rip, pulling off a strip of cloth. “Press it against your wound.”

Chen Yang instinctively obeyed. Just as he was about to say something, Chao Jian tossed the hospital gown over his head, filling his senses with the smell of medicine and disinfectant.

By the time Chen Yang pulled the gown off his head, the young man had disappeared. Pressing the cloth to his wound, Chen Yang scanned the area, noticing that Lin Yue’s body had transformed into seeds.

They were scattered all over the ground, as though someone had dumped them from a large container. The sheer number of them made it impossible to count.

Most of the seeds had burrowed into the soil, with just their pointed tops showing. Some were growing quickly, sprouting tiny shoots.

Who knew what they would grow into?

Chen Yang glanced at the piece of flesh he’d lost and silently walked over to it. He used the tip of his shoe to dig a small hole in the ground and kicked the flesh into it, covering it with dirt when he was done. He then buried the traces of blood on the ground in the same way.

Chao Jian returned with some herbs. He crushed a few of them and squeezed the juice onto Chen Yang’s bleeding wound.

Chen Yang held out his arm in a daze.

Only when the young man tore another strip from the hospital gown and expertly bandaged his wound did Chen Yang snap out of it, mumbling, “So you know about herbal medicine, huh? Then why don’t you look for something to treat that cold…”

“Shut up.” Chao Jian’s tone was icy, his eyebrows scrunched into a deep frown.

Chen Yang gulped. Clearly, the pills hadn’t fully taken effect yet.

After they made their way back, Chen Yang huddled up in the stone cave. Whatever herbal concoction Chao Jian had used, it managed to stop the bleeding on his wound. It still hurt, though, and he’d lost a lot of blood, leaving him feeling weak and groggy. Before long, he drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, the sun was dipping toward the horizon. Sitting at the mouth of the cave was that same tall, silent young man, his demeanor taciturn and distant.

The darkness in him seemed to have been subdued by those two pills.

Chen Yang thought of the pill bottle, covered in strange characters — something foreign, but he wasn’t sure if it was English or some other language.

‘Calcium supplements’ was a lie you’d say to deceive children. It was more likely some kind of psychotropic drug.

Since the moment he’d first seen Chao Jian at the dock, Chen Yang had sensed there was something off about him, a feeling of dissonance that he couldn’t quite describe.

That terrifying version of Chao Jian — the one swinging the crutch with relentless violence, devoid of any rationality — that was the real him.

The Chao Jian who took those pills was simply his medicated, controlled self.

Chen Yang steadied himself against the stone wall as he walked out and sat down beside the young man, beginning abruptly with, “The bread.”

Without waiting for a response, he continued, “I tried a sample of it before I came in, at the corner of Xifu Street behind Sanlian Bridge.”

“That bread tasted terrible—unimaginably bad. I felt awful after eating it. When you saw me that night at the intersection, I was on my way to get an IV because it made my stomach hurt so badly.”

“When Zhang Yan asked us about it on the boat, I realized I couldn’t remember the face of the salesman who’d given it to me, and that’s when I figured it had something to do with this mission.”

Chen Yang paused for a moment before continuing. “I didn’t tell Zhang Yan and the others because I was worried they’d treat me like a life-saving charm and start trying to devour me, like Lin Yue did.”

“When Zhang Yan said I was cursed, I actually suspected he’d gotten it wrong. I knew I’d avoided the curse because of that bread, but it wasn’t a conscious choice to keep it a secret. I didn’t tell you, not because I was afraid you’d try to consume me too, but because I thought it wasn’t much of a clue. Do you believe me?” Chen Yang’s voice was very soft.

Chao Jian twirled a small yellow flower he’d plucked from who knows where, and replied, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Chen Yang looked at him for a moment, then said calmly, “Drink my blood.”

The flower slipped from Chao Jian’s hand.

Chen Yang wasn’t joking. He spoke with absolute seriousness. “You’re cursed too. You’re fine for now, but it’s only temporary. We don’t know when you might turn and I can’t complete this mission alone. I need your help.”

Chao Jian looked at him for a moment. “Mission worlds like this have their own rules. The bread’s effect is likely only for you. Even if someone else devours you, they’d still be cursed.”

Chen Yang blinked, taken aback. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Chao Jian picked up the yellow flower and tossed it to Chen Yang.

Chen Yang gave him a puzzled look. “Why are you giving me a flower?”

Chao Jian replied, “Eat it.”

Chen Yang looked at the little flower, and then, trusting him, ate it. He didn’t press for any more explanations—personal privacy was personal privacy. Chao Jian clearly didn’t plan on saying anything further either.

The flower was bitter, making Chen Yang’s face scrunch up. He glanced over at the young man, who was still coughing. “Is there really no herb around here to treat your cold?”

Chao Jian’s breath was hot. “There is. I’m just too lazy to get it.”

Chen Yang fell silent. Pills or not, he was still crazy.