Gunfire echoed several times, and the long, writhing blood-red object on the ground finally ceased squirming. The shooter was Zhou Ziling. Because the temporary medical room was set up inside the library, the lightly injured squad leaders and soldiers had come here after tending to their wounds.
Now that all communications were cut off, before dawn, she planned to hold a meeting with everyone. Considering the inconvenience for the injured, she brought others here, intending to discuss whether to revise their plans if the gray fog didn’t arrive by 4 a.m.
But she hadn’t expected that before the fog or monsters came, something strange would occur inside what should have been a safe building.
Under the flashlight beams, the object looked like a blood-red snake. Having stopped moving now and pierced several times, it resembled a human organ, bloody and mangled—utterly revolting.
Several vomiting sounds came from nearby again. Civilians who had stood close to the vomiting individuals immediately jumped away as if burned.
Those who had just started vomiting panicked, loudly insisting that they only vomited because they were grossed out by the bloody thing; they claimed it wasn’t serious, unlike the others vomiting.
But no one believed them at such a moment. Screams, dodging, and shoving broke out quickly. Some fell, some ran desperately out of the reading area to escape the vomiting people. Others, barely awake and unaware of what was happening, were shoved into the midst of the vomiting.
In the dark, they felt something slimy coil around their legs. Then, a strong metallic blood smell filled the air, followed by searing pain in their legs—something was tearing and gnawing at their flesh!
The vomiting individuals panicked and screamed as they collapsed to the ground, frantically kicking their legs and hitting at the unknown things clinging to them, but it was all futile. The things coiled tightly as if trying to bore a hole into their limbs.
Even worse, some unlucky ones, after falling, felt another slimy thing wrap swiftly around their necks. The tightening strangulation brought unbearable pain.
The harsh beam of a flashlight swept over them. Someone shouted sternly to stop moving. Some had already been bitten on the neck, blood spurting everywhere, choking on their own blood. Their mouths gaped open but only coughed up bloody bubbles. They were dying.
Some panicked and couldn’t comply, but others understood and forced themselves to freeze. A glint of cold steel flashed, and the slimy things coiling their legs loosened—but the pain didn’t disappear.
Zhou Ziling gripped her police-issued tactical knife, which had a flashlight attached, and sliced through the red creatures. With her other hand, she yanked off the severed pieces.
The things looked like red snakes, but were soft, rotten, and slippery—disgusting to the touch, like enormous fallen caterpillars. Fortunately, Zhou Ziling wore tactical gloves, avoiding direct contact.
She moved quickly. After rescuing several people, she immediately sent a message to the other squads: “Unknown organism suspected to be ‘red worms.’ Low hardness, with sharp mouthparts at one end. They coil and bite flesh. Cold weapons can be used! Everyone be careful, don’t touch directly, wear gloves!”
As she spoke, she crouched to examine the person strangled by one of the red worms. Though she had already severed it, the worm’s head had deeply embedded in the person’s neck.
She yanked the worm and found a deep hole drilled into the flesh, surrounded by blackened, charred tissue. She immediately added, “Be extra cautious! The worm’s mouthparts may carry corrosive liquid. After coiling and biting, they burrow into the flesh, causing fatal wounds. Remove them immediately!”
“Understood, Captain Zhou!”
The flashlight beams wavered as the soldiers quickly sprang into action.
Some eliminated a batch of red worms and controlled several vomiting victims before rushing over to ask her what to do with the still-vomiting ones who were producing more red worms. Should they be tied up and locked together in an empty rest room?
The number of people showing mutation symptoms was increasing. Almost half had begun vomiting.
The injured in the temporary medical room were no exception. Whether seriously or lightly wounded, civilian or comrade, whether injured days ago or during the recent transfer—anyone bitten by the red-tongue monster was mutating!
Nearly all the injured exhibited symptoms at roughly the same time, ignoring incubation or transformation periods. Why?
If infection happened through blood contact, why had those initially injured shown no symptoms in these past days? Moreover, the Self-Defense Force had focused their vigilance on the bodies, quickly burning them after campus clearance to eliminate hidden threats.
Now, none of this made sense.
Zhou Ziling’s mind raced. She knew time was short and decisions had to be made fast. Her gaze swept through the chaos, landing on seven familiar faces inside the wide-open rest area door.
They had become comrades after days of living and fighting together. Hours ago, they had smiled at her—some helplessly, some lightly, some uneasily. Now, they had blood-red eyes, no longer human. Their mouths were twisted at bizarre angles as they mechanically tore red worms from inside, smeared with blood.
Nearby, panicked cries and sobbing from civilians attacked by red worms rang out. They begged the Self-Defense Force to kill these monsters quickly. They didn’t understand why they used knives instead of guns to dispatch them.
Zhou Ziling closed her eyes and ordered, “Shoot to kill! All infected—eliminate on sight!”
Some hesitated but most responded with shock, “Captain Zhou, but… they’re people!” After all, a few days ago, they had been ordinary civilians living peaceful lives.
Though working at the police station, their usual duties involved civil disputes, traffic accidents, fights, thefts… Their experience made them valuable to the Self-Defense Force, but none had ever had to kill people personally.
They could shoot and kill the red-tongue monsters—they were invaders, not human, treated like savage beasts.
They could burn corpses because those people were already dead, and the danger was obvious.
But now, these people weren’t dead—some had only minor injuries, some were hurt protecting others. It was like a contagious disease with a rapid onset. The patients might die anytime but still had a chance to recover.
After all, no one knew the origin or nature of this disaster, or whether a cure was possible.
Screams rose all around. Zhou Ziling clenched the handle of her knife tightly, her eyes filled with sorrow and determination: “There are too many infected. With our current personnel and equipment, if we don’t kill them on the spot, we can’t save the others! Shoot to kill all infected! That’s my order. Send the order to other floors, and send someone to the art building and gym. I’ll take full responsibility!”
Gunfire echoed again. When the first horrifying vomiting victim was killed, the civilians barely noticed.
Their attention was all on themselves—frantically hiding from red worms, avoiding the vomiting, protecting their supplies, and avoiding being trampled.
But those vomiting had been normal people just before tonight. They had families and friends, had evacuated here together, and amid helplessness and fear, they were each other’s most important people.
When the injured began showing signs of mutation, their families were the first to notice. Despite the horrifying process, the families were terrified, retreating and screaming. Yet they still cared deeply, afraid to leave or watch their loved ones be killed. This was a completely different matter.
As the soldiers feared, no one knew the true cause of the disaster or whether recovery was possible. Maybe the infected were just mad.
Zombie films had existed for years, but not everyone knew or understood them. Besides, even if they did, this wasn’t a movie.
These infected didn’t attack those around them, didn’t bite or spread viruses. They had a strange, terrifying illness. Some families could not accept losing their loved ones in front of them like this.
“No! Don’t kill my son! Ah—”
“My wife is just sick! She’ll get better!”
“That’s my dad! What are you doing? Stop!”
“My daughter’s only nine! Please, she just started vomiting! Tie her up first, okay? She’s only nine…” A disheveled woman in her thirties gripped her daughter’s wrists tightly from behind, preventing her from clawing at her throat.
She nearly exhausted her strength trying to control her daughter but still shouted at the Self-Defense Force soldier in front of them, begging him not to pull the trigger. She had lost her mother and husband in this disaster; her daughter was all she had left—her most precious treasure. She absolutely couldn’t let her die.
The soldier, Bai Hui, was young and a former firefighter trained in shooting but never having fired a gun in real combat. Though ordered to comply, her heart resisted. She couldn’t bring herself to kill.
Looking at the girl’s bloodshot eyes and cracked lips, hearing the mother’s sobbing, Bai Hui hesitated, finger on the trigger.
She thought of her own younger sister, about the same age as the girl, still in elementary school back home. She didn’t know if her family was alive in this disaster.
In the moment Bai Hui hesitated, the girl suddenly broke free, ripped her lips open, and pulled out a red worm.
The worm didn’t fall to the ground but climbed quickly up the girl’s shoulder and coiled around the nearest woman’s neck.
A scream rang out as the worm bit through the woman’s neck and burrowed deep.
Blood sprayed all over the girl’s face and hair, but she seemed unaware, pulling out a second, then a third red worm…
The woman collapsed, bleeding rapidly. Her head drooped weakly, resting on her daughter’s shoulder. She felt more red worms crawling on her, biting her flesh, trying to burrow into her body, but she still held her daughter tightly without letting go.
She tried to open her mouth but couldn’t utter another plea…
“Pfft—” The sharp tactical knife pierced the girl’s temple precisely. The hand gripping the handle pressed harder, withdrawing the blade.
Zhou Ziling spun and pulled Bai Hui aside, helping her avoid the writhing red worms on the ground.
“Don’t zone out! Remember, you’re saving lives! Hesitation only causes more casualties!”
Bai Hui suppressed her fear and panic, nodding at Zhou Ziling. “Yes, Captain Zhou!”
Similar scenes weren’t limited to just this spot.
As more people realized the truth, new conflicts erupted between infected family members and Self-Defense Force soldiers.
They raged and accused: who gave you the right to decide their fate? How could you determine they couldn’t be cured? Must you sacrifice our loved ones for the sake of others’ safety?
This was completely unfair! You have no right to do this!
“You’re murderers! Criminals! …And you, why don’t you stop them? You’re accomplices too!” They watched helplessly as their loved ones transformed, hearts broken and desperate. Their pent-up emotions exploded.
They cursed, shoved, and fought, crying and shouting. Other civilians, whose family and friends were severely injured or killed by red worms, joined the anger, blaming others for failing to guard their loved ones. Since they were attacked by the red-tongue monster, they should have been vigilant, always watching their family. Their neglect caused harm to others!
The conflict lasted some time, with accusations directed at the rescue workers: why were the injured and healthy civilians grouped together? Why not isolate the sick? And then simply kill the infected? It was slaughtering the innocent!
The rescue workers were left speechless. Though the accusations sounded reasonable, the sudden arrival of the gray fog and the large number of injured survivors made isolation impossible. The team had monitored body changes and injuries carefully, but the injured appeared normal.
Even if they insisted on isolating the injured from the healthy, civilians would likely refuse and accuse them of discrimination.
Vomiting victims continued pulling out new red worms. The library floor was crawling with them. Some hid, some fought, some were injured and begged for help. Crowds surged into the corridor, flooding the four stairwells, desperate to escape this nightmare. The stairwells became packed with crying, pushing, and shoving—pure chaos.
The situation showed no sign of improvement, threatening to spiral out of control.
Not every soldier could maintain their composure to kill red worms and vomiting victims in these conditions. They were human too, risking their lives but facing rejection and verbal abuse. Some grew angry, feeling it was better to conserve energy and save themselves.
Others couldn’t bear the accusations and pressure, quietly resisting Zhou Ziling’s orders. If they could just tie the victims up first, why kill them outright?
Many infected were people they knew—former friends.
They had chosen Zhou Ziling as their captain, but now, for the first time, they doubted her.
Once things started changing, they could never go back.
In the first-floor elevator lobby of the library, the elevator doors dinged open. Qi Feng, rifle in hand, led a group rushing inside.
Behind him were other soldiers on night watch, plus Tang Siqing and her companions, along with several civilians who had come running to the elevators.
Because of their encounter during the transfer, Qi Feng was impressed by Tang Siqing and trusted her. So when she quickly explained the mutation in the reading area, he believed her immediately.
Another squad leader was also at the elevator lobby. He had heard of this sharpshooter and disagreed with their plan to shelter on the first floor. His group wanted to take the elevator down as well.
The situation in the library, art building, and gym was uncertain. With no communication, someone needed to check over there. If mutations hadn’t started, they could warn the soldiers to separate the injured from the healthy.
However, their mission was to guard the elevator area, so someone else had to inform Captain Zhou.
In the end, the squad leader stayed behind to notify the captain, while Qi Feng and another soldier escorted Tang Siqing’s group down via elevator.
In the hallway next to the elevator, Qi Feng pointed down a corridor. “Go this way, turn right at the end, then left. There are several small offices there. Those rooms probably don’t have floor-to-ceiling windows. Find a room with intact doors and windows and stay there. Keep an eye outside, stay close to the main group, and avoid getting left behind!”
“Okay, thank you!” Tang Siqing understood his urgency to check the art building and gym, so she didn’t ask more. She promptly thanked him, turned on her flashlight, and ran down the hallway.
Zhang Yu and Zhang Xin also thanked Qi Feng’s group and quickly followed Tang Siqing.
The four civilians following them didn’t keep up immediately. Compared to Tang Siqing’s group, they felt safer with the armed soldiers and wanted to go to the art building and gym.
They knew medical rooms were set up there, meaning fewer injured than in the library, so possibly safer, though more crowded.
One side was a small, apparently safe group without soldiers—on their own. The other was a large group with soldiers, but the situation was unknown.
Each option had pros and cons. If the situation were more urgent, they might decide quickly, but now their minds were in chaos.
The four civilians shouted once toward Zhang Yu and Zhang Xin’s direction. When the two turned back, they didn’t know what to say, so they turned again and called to a soldier nearby. None of the soldiers looked back, so the civilians hurried after them.
Tang Siqing moved swiftly, following Qi Feng’s directions to reach the office area.
Whether because of the terrifying sudden events or being jostled by the crowd earlier, her wrist still throbbed with a vague pain. But she ignored it, pressing the sore spot as she searched for an office with intact windows.
At the corridor’s end, there were doors on both sides and a double door straight ahead. She considered the direction of the art building and gym, then opened the first door on the left.
Qi Feng had said these were offices—dark inside, filled with desks, chairs, sofas, possibly cluttered and bloodstained. She needed to find a window and check the glass.
Tang Siqing stood at the doorway, frozen.
There was nothing inside.
No desks or chairs, no windows—just three blank white walls. The flashlight illuminated the small, narrow space clearly.
About four to five square meters in size, rectangular, widthwise from where she stood at the door to the opposite white wall was barely a meter. She could almost reach it with a hand.
This wasn’t an office.
Before the thought fully formed, her hand reflexively closed the door. They needed to find a safe room with intact doors and windows first. That was more important!
Just as she released the doorknob, Zhang Yu and Zhang Xin arrived. The corridor was dark and it was late; they hadn’t seen Tang Siqing open or close the door but quickly tried the handle.
“Wait, here—” Tang Siqing tried to explain but was cut off.
The door was pulled open a second time.
Behind it was pitch black. Only the flashlight’s beam penetrated, revealing a messy jumble of desks and chairs.
A chilling, eerie sensation crawled up Tang Siqing’s spine to the back of her head, chilling her forehead.
How was this possible?!
This room had been empty just moments ago—
No, that was wrong! The previous room was visible at a glance, no furniture, and much smaller.
But now, in front of her was a completely different space!
Not only were there overturned desks and scattered items, there was a window facing the door.
This wasn’t the same room!
How could a single door lead to two entirely different spaces?
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