It seemed like more than one research lab had been trying to create new lifeforms. Many institutions were doing it now, especially the local government. They were pushing even harder, hoping to develop some kind of new post-apocalypse species or perhaps a new kind of livestock that could withstand the harsh environment.
This collective desperation explained why this place was crawling with strange, misshapen creatures. Whether they had evolved naturally and failed, or were the result of medical injections gone wrong, all of them still possessed the right to keep living. Even now, they might be generating useful data for the scientists.
They walked past a cluster of giant pigs tearing each other apart, and Jing Shu's gaze fell upon another section full of disgusting, soft-bodied creatures. They looked like a pile of giant, shell-less snails. Thanks to her night vision, she saw everything clearly in the dim hallway. The creatures were huge and ugly, their pale flesh glistening with slime, and their soft tentacles kept stabbing into each other's bodies. Her vision was too good, which meant she had to watch every grotesque detail. The tentacles were foaming, pumping out streams of viscous white froth and forcing it into the bodies of their own kind.
Worse yet, their whole bodies seemed to be nothing but a network of tubes and tentacles. They jabbed into each other like needles and writhed nonstop, as if they were spitting thick saliva straight into their victims. Once the white foam finished transferring, a thicker white liquid emerged, followed by yellow and then black. The process continued until the soft creatures shriveled up, looking like empty, discarded protein bags.
"They are eating? Eating their own?" Jing Shu couldn't help asking, her voice barely a whisper.
In the darkness, these things only made soft, wet clicking sounds. Nobody else seemed to notice them. Even the staff hadn't expected the girl to pick up on these nasty details, because normally, a person couldn't see anything in this kind of total darkness.
"Kind of," a worker answered.
"Oh." Jing Shu's expression twisted behind her mask. She had seen enough animals in her spatial farm to know what mating looked like. When the fat chicken hooked up with the dinosaur chicken years ago, and then all those subsequent pairings, she was the one who hadn't arranged the encounters. The tentacles' rhythm, the white spit, the little jolting movements—she knew exactly what she was looking at.
"It's also mating."
She pointed at one creature that had shriveled down to a loose, translucent piece of skin. "So this is dying from too much... you know?"
The administrator shook his head. "No, it just transferred itself into the newly born one. This new species is called Xixuebie and is classified as a category 3 dangerous organism."
"Xixuebie? They look like snails without shells. Doesn't seem like they suck blood or anything, and they don't look dangerous," Jing Shu said as she backed away. Her instincts told her she had some kind of connection to this species.
She was right. They kept walking, the sounds of the prison-like hallway fading behind them. The rest of the failed experiments weren't very dangerous, and they soon reached the end of the long corridor. Another heavy, reinforced door waited there. Inside, the air was cleaner and didn't smell nearly as bad. Compared to the dense clusters of creatures they had passed earlier, this place had small, sealed rooms spaced far apart.
They walked ten or twenty meters before reaching the next enclosure. Jing Shu couldn't see through the steel doors and didn't know what was inside. She only heard occasional, violent thuds, like something heavy was trying to break the structure apart.
The second level passed too quickly for her liking. She felt a bit disappointed that she didn't get to see more of the creatures contained within those rooms. The third level was even bigger and emptier. When the sealed door opened, it revealed an enormous independent space. It looked more like a specialized zoo. Visitors stood on a raised, metal platform, looking down at whatever lived below. Everything was reinforced with thick, tempered glass that sealed the space completely.
The lights snapped on with a sharp pop, though Jing Shu didn't need them to see. Two giant pigs stood in the enclosure below. She stared at the boxes she had brought and cursed silently. The people had told her to bring whatever container she wanted, but how was she supposed to carry something as large as those pigs?
"Wait. Something wasn't right. The pigs looked wrong." Jing Shu's brow furrowed. Their movements were sluggish and their bodies appeared stiff, as if they were being moved by invisible strings.
"So..."
The administrator nodded. "Those two pigs are just food for your target."
"So where is my target?" Jing Shu scanned the entire enclosure again and again. With her eyesight, she could spot an ant crawling across the stone floor, but there was nothing else visible. The phone call earlier had described the creature as terrifying, unstoppable, and a complete nightmare. They had warned her repeatedly about how dangerous it was before finally agreeing to let her take it.
"They are failed products too," the staff member said in a flat tone. "They were so close to the desired result. It's a pity."
Jing Shu felt her curiosity spike. She wondered what the creature was supposed to be.
"It's now classified as a level one dangerous organism. I don't know why the higher-ups approved letting you take it, but you need to be careful. If not, you might end up dead. During the experiments, it killed several of our colleagues." He continued, "It's a mutated Xixuebie, evolved from thousands of Xixuebie before mutating again. Xixuebie itself is a failed creation made with excessive red energy injections.
The mutated Xixuebie is far more aggressive. It survives by drilling into living creatures with flesh and blood, feeding on them. When necessary, it can manipulate its host's primal instincts and hijack its central nervous system to control the entire body.
Just like now. It's controlling the two pigs so they don't fight each other and can even coexist peacefully. Both Xixuebie and the mutated ones can't really be killed. Their bodies function like perpetual motion machines. That was the original design, so they could reproduce endlessly as humanity's food source."
In the apocalypse, everything eventually became a potential meal. If humans had a chance, they would try to develop anything into edible resources. Most attempts failed, but the idea still made sense. This one was particularly interesting.
The staff member pulled a heavy lever and sighed. "Getting it out for you will take a moment. Wait here."
Jing Shu nodded. The entire enclosure below began to shrink as mechanical walls moved inward, and red lasers slid out from all directions.
Biu—!
A sizzling sound filled the air. Both pigs were sliced cleanly in half. Blood splashed across the glass, but the pigs didn't even scream.
"Holy shit," Jing Shu muttered to herself.
The staff member nodded. This girl was tougher than he had expected. The lasers kept sweeping across the enclosure, neatly cutting the pigs into smaller pieces.
===
吸血 (xīxuě): Blood-Sucking.
蟞 (biē): It's an ancient term, but in modern context, it's used to describe a ferocious, often aquatic, blood-sucking parasite or pest, similar to a giant leech, water louse, or tick.