The Wandering Marsh, the distant far north.
Biting wind and snow darted like myriad shuttles, weaving the boundless white expanse into a rushing silver river.
Not only was this the northernmost border of the Academy, but it was also the northernmost edge of the entire Mid-Continent. The temperature stayed below minus twenty degrees Celsius year-round, plunging to as low as minus one hundred during the bitterest freezes.
The extreme climate served as a natural barrier, much like the desert encasing the oasis of Sunset Province.
Only a few thick-furred, fat-insulated xenomorphs could survive and roam this region.
Yet amid this bitterly cold land frozen for thousands of li stood one of the most prosperous settlements in the Wandering Marsh.
Its name was Binghai City.
True to its name, this settlement lay along the permafrost-bound coast.
Hundreds of meters tall, the settlement was forged entirely of alloy, resembling a colossal axe draped across an iceberg, its metallic walls gleaming with an austere chill through the swirling snow.
It was said that over two centuries ago, this place had been a seed vault of the People's Federation, only converted into a settlement a century and a half ago to house the earliest wave of technicians who broke away from the Post-War Reconstruction Committee.
Later, when the Science Committee was formed, jurisdiction over the site fell under its banner.
However, even under the Science Committee's administration, the inhabitants lived lives that were hardly harsh, all thanks to the unique nature of the settlement.
The howling blizzards and bitter cold were locked outside the settlement's walls. Aside from the seed storage vault embedded in the iceberg—where sub-zero temperatures plunged into the negative dozens—the production and residential sectors enjoyed an environment that could be described as perpetual spring.
Beyond that, the work here was far from grueling.
The most common position was gardener, and the "hardest" labor involved nothing more than tending to special crops adapted to tropical conditions inside sweltering greenhouses, while spending most of the time sipping tea before monitor screens.
Aside from the ubiquitous gardeners, the most sought-after posts were undeniably assistants and apprentices recruited by legitimate Academy researchers.
Unlike the Academy's rostered apprentices, an apprenticeship in Binghai City was merely a job position, usually tied to specific research projects and primarily targeting young survivors between the ages of twelve and eighteen who had excelled on higher-education evaluations.
Though compensation barely differed from that of a gardener, for youths preparing for the annual December exam, it offered an exceptional opportunity to gain early access to mentors and scientific research.
So long as these boys and girls showed a bit of wit and weren't foolish enough to offend their supervisors, they would almost certainly receive some favor.
After all, most of their bosses had walked the same path and understood their present plight—balancing work while cramming for an exam that would decide their fate in life.
Often, just a pointer or two could save these kids years of detours.
And once they passed the test and became true apprentices, a letter of recommendation or simply a prestigious name on their résumé would allow them to breeze through their apprenticeship far more smoothly than peers from other parts of the Science Committee, perhaps even earning a mentor's endorsement to bypass the surveyor rank entirely and step directly into the glorious role of a researcher.
Even in the worst-case scenario—failing year after year to become an official Academy apprentice and having to yield the post to someone else upon turning eighteen—a Binghai City apprentice could still leverage their research experience to secure a respectable position within the settlement, or even enter the Science Committee's administrative ranks to launch an entirely different life path.
It was precisely because of these privileged conditions that any researcher with a bit of influence and strong affection for their family would do whatever it took to squeeze their relatives into this settlement.
In turn, researchers who emerged from the settlement would look out for their hometown, offering aid wherever possible.
As a result, although Academy researchers did not directly administer settlements under the Science Committee, Binghai City enjoyed an aloof, privileged status, even fostering a regional faction within the Academy named after the city.
However, given the Academy's cool detachment and tenuous interpersonal ties, factions bound by blood and geography were nowhere near as sturdy as those cemented by direct interests. Consequently, this faction rarely held center stage, wielding influence only over trivial matters.
Such as the special zone established jointly by the Alliance and the Academy.
To the Academy, it mattered little where under the Science Committee's umbrella the zone was placed, since the core interests of most researchers lay strictly within the Academy itself.
And so, the special zone was established in Binghai City.
Half a year had passed since its founding, and the vault dwellers from the Alliance had indeed brought quite a few interesting novelties to the locals.
Both material and spiritual, their optimism and bravery were qualities the people here had not witnessed in a long time.
Of course.
What these travelers from afar brought was not entirely joy.
On the helipad atop Binghai City's dome, a shuttle-shaped aircraft slowly descended and settled to a halt.
A refrigerated hibernation pod was carried down and placed onto the pure white snow.
An elderly man and woman stood at the entrance to the pad, bundled in heavy thermal suits and huddled close together, silently watching the coffin sinking into the snow.
Frost clung to their transparent visors, obscuring the expressions on their faces.
Yet from the heavy silence, everyone nearby could feel the grief permeating the air.
A soldier in an exoskeleton crunched through the snow, stepped up to the elderly couple, and tapped his left forearm twice. A palm-sized holographic screen unfolded over his arm, which he gently nudged toward them.
"My condolences."
Upon seeing the photograph on the holographic screen, the woman swayed, nearly fainting.
The husband beside her wrapped an arm around her shoulders, saying nothing to the soldier, merely offering a mute nod.
That single word of condolence was the only exchange between the three.
With a nod of his own, the soldier turned and climbed back aboard the shuttle-shaped craft.
The silver-white fuselage slowly rose, a faint blue flame flickering from its tail, before vanishing into the boundless blizzard as though it had never been there at all...
Over a dozen Binghai City residents stood linked arm-in-arm at the pad's entrance, holding a simple funeral for the unfortunate youth.
His remains would later be cremated, a portion preserved as a keepsake and the rest scattered into the whirling snow.
Standing by a floor-to-ceiling window inside the settlement, several players in exoskeletons cast curious glances out at the pad.
They recognized the soldier's gear, especially the gas mask integrated into the helmet. Without a doubt, he was an operative of the Alpha Mobile Task Force.
To be fair, this game was ridiculously realistic. Even NPCs scripted to die in the background had full lives of their own.
They had only heard about the defeat thousands of kilometers away on the forums; they never expected to see a body brought back from the front lines in-game just a few days later.
In any other game, an insignificant NPC like that would just make up the numbers in a cutscene before being despawned.
"...I thought everyone in the Alpha Mobile Task Force was just some dirt-poor pauper who couldn't even afford potatoes."
A Strength-type player muttered, a clear look of surprise on his face.
The Agility-type player beside him nodded in agreement and remarked with feeling,
"Didn't expect someone from Binghai City to be in it too."
Having spent several days in the settlement, they had a decent grasp of the local situation.
Even with Ideal City as a benchmark, the life of the locals was unmistakably prosperous, falling short only when compared to the Academy's surveyors and researchers.
Whether the fellow had sought excitement, chased a different life and dream, or simply rebelled against dogma, joining the Alphas took courage.
Another Intelligence-type player chimed in,
"At least his family gets an urn. Can't say the same for the others."
The Strength-type player shrugged.
"That's just the two sides of the coin."
While chatting, the group took the elevator down to the settlement exit and climbed into the all-terrain tracked vehicle already waiting for them.
Their mission today was to head to the nearby ruins of Molokova City, collect fruiting body samples, and deliver them to the Alliance Institute of Biological Research researchers stationed in Binghai City.
Deep inside those ruins lay a dormant broodmother hidden somewhere beneath the subway station. Due to the camouflaging effect of extensive spore mantles, existing technological means could not pinpoint its exact location.
The fruiting bodies spawned by this broodmother were also quite distinctive—exceptionally adept at camouflage, blending seamlessly into their surroundings before launching sudden ambushes once prey drew near.
The long-term objective of the Slime Mold Community Special Zone was to locate the broodmother's precise coordinates and feed it to Xiao Yu, while the near-to-medium-term goal was to analyze the broodmother and provide reference data for mutant slime mold research projects across the Community's various regions.
Though a minor task, every grand endeavor was built upon countless small jobs just like it.
At the very moment the group departed, a man and a woman took their place before the floor-to-ceiling window where they had just stood.
Looking out at the hibernation pod through the glass, Jiang Xuezhou's face was a tapestry of conflicting emotions.
She did not know the parents, and she certainly didn't know the person inside the pod.
She had simply been struck by the sudden thought: what if she hadn't made it out of Vault 0 that day, but had died out on this wasteland like countless researchers who met with misfortune...?
Her heart tightened slightly. Lowering her head for a moment, she whispered softly,
"Hey..."
Seeing Jiang Xuezhou's somber expression, Ye Shi, standing beside her, made a helpless face.
"What's wrong now?"
Jiang Xuezhou continued quietly,
"...I want to go home for a visit."
"Then go."
Ye Shi gave her a strange look. Did she really need to announce something like that to him?
Her lips parted and closed. It felt awkward to say, but she finally spoke up.
"...Could you come with me?"
Ever since becoming an apprentice, she hadn't returned home in a very long time, and she had no idea how to face relatives who felt both familiar and alien. Subconsciously, she sought a trusted companion to go with her.
Hearing it was just that, Ye Shi didn't overthink it and agreed straight away.
"Sure. When?"
Jiang Xuezhou paused.
She had only brought it up on a whim and hadn't even planned a specific time to leave. She never expected this wooden blockhead to agree so readily, let alone ask when they were leaving.
"...How about... tomorrow?"
The words left her mouth before she was truly prepared. Only then did something dawn on her, and her cheeks began to warm.
Little did she know, the guy beside her wasn't thinking anything of the sort—to him, it was merely an exclamation mark popping up above an NPC's head.
"Works for me..."
Watching Jiang Xuezhou's face suddenly turn red as an apple, Ye Shi couldn't help displaying a bizarre expression.
This girl was always zoning out lately.
Could she have a fever?
...
The front lines, thousands of kilometers away.
Scorching flames melted even the snow blanketing Blood Mountain.
Earth-shaking thunders of artillery were followed by the sharp crackle of gunfire and the roars of mutants.
As if to wash away their prior disgrace, the Alpha Mobile Task Force had revised a more meticulous battle plan based on intelligence gathered from the previous engagement and launched an assault far fiercer than before.
Pushed to the front this time were not merely two hundred-man companies, but a full ten companies totaling a thousand men!
The two sides engaged in brutal firefights within the cavern networks.
Covered by drone strike formations, squad after squad orderly poured into the abyss-like caverns. People could be seen going in, but none came out.
Watching the ferocious offensive of the Alpha Mobile Task Force, General Modelin, standing on the slopes of Broken Blade Mountain, couldn't help revealing a hint of surprise.
Beside him, his adjutant also wore a look of utter disbelief.
"...Did these guys pop pills or something?" the adjutant muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on the front line.
In a mere three days, those dispirited wretches seemed to have become entirely different people.
Though he couldn't see what was happening inside the caves, the sheer momentum of those men made their transformation blatantly obvious.
"You might have hit the mark," General Modelin muttered with a frown, lowering his binoculars.
Coalition High Command had publicized the characteristics of the Alpha protozoan.
By that standard, within the entire 31st Legion, perhaps only the disciplinary squads and a handful of Awakened with immense physical fortitude could withstand the erosion of that red mist.
The operation three days prior had demonstrated that the Alpha Mobile Task Force did not excel in physical strength.
Without any change in equipment, he could only suspect they had ingested some immunity-boosting drug or installed bionic augments capable of resisting infection.
Beyond that, another detail caught his attention.
Namely, he had only seen wave upon wave enter the caves, with none emerging.
Either they had fought to the bitter end and died within, or they had gained some ability to regenerate continuously in battle.
At that thought, a gleam of genuine interest surfaced in General Modelin's eyes, and he couldn't help anticipating the outcome of this battle with mild curiosity.
Watching the battle alongside General Modelin were Commander Spring, head of the Storm Corps, and Edge, head of the Death Corps.
Both stood on the slopes of Broken Blade Mountain, their gazes fixed on the battlefield right before their eyes.
"Holy crap... what a bunch of badasses," Brother Edge remarked with awe written all over his face.
Discounting clones devoid of complete sapience, this was the first time in this game he had seen NPCs as fearless of death as players.
"No kidding..." Commander Spring nodded in agreement, binoculars locked onto the action at the front.
In a sense, Torch had truly met its match this time.
Although the Academy was relatively friendly toward the blue coats, he still couldn't help poking fun: when it came to casting aside their humanity, ordinary folks were truly no match for them.
In three days, they had inoculated a thousand biological prosthetics, instantly "class-changing" a third of the front-line Alphas from mechanized soldiers into semi-biological, semi-mechanized combatants.
While Xiao Yu was pretty cute once you got used to it, and swapping a skin for fun once in a while seemed harmless enough, all of that was predicated on being able to respawn.
If respawning wasn't an option, or if respawning didn't wipe the biological prosthesis clean, even in a game, he'd probably hesitate before installing something like that.
While the Coalition commanders observed the fighting, the Beastmaster atop Blood Mountain likewise looked down over the battlefield.
And on that usually expressionless face sat an unmistakable trace of astonishment.
"What is that?"
He muttered repeatedly under his breath, eyes filled with bewilderment. He couldn't believe what he was seeing through the eyes of the mutants, let alone comprehend it.
He had watched with his own eyes as an Alpha operative was impaled through the chest by a spike hurled by a mutant aberration, then flung violently aside.
The hot blood had even splattered over its head; that scalding warmth could not possibly be an illusion cast by holographic technology.
For a human, that was unequivocally a fatal wound.
Yet just as the creature wiped the blood from its spike, it saw the unconscious soldier twitch violently, roll onto his side, raise his rifle, and unleash a wild barrage straight at it.
Caught completely off guard, the mutant had its chest and brain pulverized by several electromagnetically accelerated projectiles.
In that instant, the Beastmaster lost his connection to the mutant, his consciousness returning blankly to an overarching perspective.
The brutal slaughter raged on.
These gas-mask-wearing bastards seemed to have found a way to counter the toxic mist.
More than that, their recuperative powers had skyrocketed, as if they had transformed into an entirely different species overnight.
"Haha... Hahahaha!"
The bewilderment in his eyes gave way to fanaticism, and gazing down beneath his feet, he burst into laughter.
"Fascinating... how truly fascinating!"
Proactively inoculating themselves with the fruiting bodies of a benign strain to gain immunity before being infected by slime mold spores?
Those old fossils weren't as rigid as he had imagined; they knew how to adapt after all.
As expected, only sparring against opponents with ideas could be enjoyable.
Fighting those Wilante yielded nothing but a heap of organic matter; there was nothing to learn from them.
Looking down at the Alpha operatives arrayed in tight formation at the foot of the mountain, the Beastmaster said in a soft voice,
"...I want to understand the secret behind those men. Could you please devour them?"
It was not sound carried by airwaves, but an exchange of consciousness to consciousness.
After a pause of several minutes, that heavy voice, resonant like an ancient bell, slowly echoed into his sea of consciousness.
"I think... you would do best not to let that thing anywhere near me."
The Beastmaster paused, frowning slightly.
"You can't devour it?"
From deep within the mountain, the "Lord of Plague" spoke slowly:
"Generally speaking, we evolve to devour other organisms; devouring other broodmothers is merely an incidental occurrence in our evolution. That thing is different. Its evolutionary logic is the exact opposite of ours. It exists purely to devour other slime molds, while coexisting peacefully with the humans who feed it.
"Just like those green-skinned creatures who tolerate my scent and even worship me, you can think of it as... a 'mutant' among 'us.'"
Pausing, the voice continued,
"Through its disgusting respiration, I can sense that it has already devoured at least two of our kin... I already have so many lovely children; I have no wish to become the next."
Those worshippers were its children.
Never before had it encountered creatures so interesting—embracing the grotesque mutations it bestowed upon them with cheers and love, rather than recoiling in fear from its appearance.
The one called the Beastmaster had told it that this was human "faith"—they regarded it as the mother who gave them life, and even as a god!
It loved the title 'Lord of Plague,' and loved even more those believers who chanted its name, cherishing them even above its own fruiting bodies.
Because of this, it fed them with its own flesh and blood, selecting the most devout among them to serve as a "prophet" for culturing the "plague," using that individual as a seedbed to generate spores and grant them even more potent "evolutionary factors."
In a sense, they were its fruiting bodies, or at least part of them was.
It placed high hopes upon them, wishing for them to continually expand the scale of their population until they conquered the entire planet, carrying their faith in it onward to conquer yet more distant worlds.
One day, chanting its name, they would take its place and return to the side of its mother—Gaia.
Perhaps they could even deliver a message to Her on its behalf.
The Beastmaster pondered for a moment, then spoke up:
"Then if you were to devour it, wouldn't you also gain... its ability to devour other slime molds?"
His mind drifted to the forests of Baiyue Province. The Na fruit was born there, and there lay its weakness.
If the broodmother there could be devoured, their heavenly kingdom would no longer possess a single vulnerability.
The Lord of Plague fell silent for a moment before speaking slowly:
"That is true, but... its main body does not seem to be here. What has appeared so far are merely its fruiting bodies. My fruiting bodies can digest them, but purely in a physical sense. If I were to consume them myself, I fear I would suffer indigestion."
"I see... Understood." The Beastmaster nodded thoughtfully.
That was indeed a problem.
However, they could solve it through scientific methods—such as rendering the samples harmless before feeding them.
Of course.
That was a matter for after taking Qingquan City.
"Never mind that for now... My children are pleading for my aid. You should be able to hear it too—the sound of their weeping." Sensing that the Beastmaster seemed lost in thought, the Lord of Plague urged him.
The situation on Blood Mountain was growing increasingly unfavorable for its children.
And not just for its children; even it had been placed in danger.
It had a premonition.
If those creatures carrying another slime mold's fruiting bodies were allowed into its lair, something terrible would happen.
The Beastmaster slowly nodded, turning around to gaze toward the hazy gray sky to the southeast.
That was the direction of Haiya Province.
Standing atop Blood Mountain, one could even see the gray mist spreading there, and the thriving kingdom concealed within it.
He acknowledged that the fruiting bodies parasitic on humans had caught him by surprise.
Yet if those people believed they could defeat him with just one or two surprising cards, they were vastly underestimating him.
Many years before those old relics even noticed this land, his people had already set foot upon this barren, chaotic realm.
They had spent over a decade cultivating it so that the seeds would take root, sprout, blossom, and bear bountiful fruit.
All the land from Ten Peaks Mountain to the Weifu Wasteland was his domain; the Kingdom of Heaven had descended here long ago.
Those fools had merely built a few houses and seized a few mountain peaks, yet fancied it was their territory.
It had always been his land.
He would teach them an unforgettable lesson.
"No need to worry."
The Beastmaster waved his hand lightly. The red mist clinging to the mountain peaks seemed to waver for an instant, before being replaced by a thick, rising grayish-green fog.
"It's time for the fog to rise."
Chapter 744