Midnight Shift

Late at night, the lights of Base 51 Survivor Base had been turned off, and the base had entered hibernation mode.

The corridors of Zone 3 are deep and long. To save space, the dormitories are very close together, and each dormitory has eight beds, housing the survivors who have gathered here since the base was established.

All was silent; in this world, the night no longer belonged to humankind.

Just when everyone should have been fast asleep, the motion-activated lights in the hallway suddenly turned on.

A dormitory door was pushed open, and a woman with disheveled hair, wearing a white striped uniform issued by the base, staggered out. Her legs seemed to be a little uncomfortable, and she twisted her ankle with every step. Her bare feet pressed against the cold metal floor, leaving wet footprints with each step.

The security camera in the corridor flashed a red dot. The woman seemed to look up in the direction of the camera, her black hair obscuring her face and her expression.

She then turned around and walked deeper into the corridor.

There are men's and women's restrooms at the very end of the corridor. If a woman comes out just to use the restroom, it's not something to be surprised about.

But the silent surveillance system still locked onto the woman, silently watching her movements until she disappeared from the surveillance range.

The voice-activated lights turned on one by one, and then turned off one by one.

The woman walked barefoot, almost silently; what triggered the motion-activated light was her noticeably heavy and labored breathing.

It felt like something was blocking her throat, as if she were squeezing glass. The gurgling sound of water mixed in her mouth, and with each breath, the woman opened her mouth wide, looking like a fish about to die of thirst.

She finally reached the restroom, ignoring the men's and women's signs, and continued walking at that strange pace until she reached the sink.

A mirror was embedded above the sink. The woman looked up at her reflection, her distorted figure shrouded in a ridiculous uniform that resembled a hospital gown. Her hair was disheveled and hung down in front of her face.

The woman tilted her head, revealing a pair of protruding eyes through her hair.

She gurgled and grinned, then reached out and turned on the tap, putting her hands under it to let the water wash over them.

A few seconds later, she stuck her head over as well.

The plunger on the sink was closed, and the faucet was turned on full blast, water gushing and filling the sink, soaking the woman's entire head. She made a blissful yet strange guttural sound as she waited for the water level to rise.

But she couldn't wait.

The woman lowered her head, burying it deep in the water, water seeping into her mouth and nose, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

Her body resisted violently, convulsing incessantly, yet she resolutely and joyfully drowned in the water, letting the oxygen leave her.

My lungs started to burn.

My lungs are about to explode.

Darkness descended, water splashed, and after an unknown amount of time, the woman's body lost its support and slid helplessly off the sink.

Her abdomen was swollen high, and as the body fell to the ground, the sound of water sloshing inside her belly could almost be heard.

The unattended faucet continued to run, and soon the water overflowed the sink, spilled onto the floor, and soaked the woman's clothes.

The woman's bulging eyes were wide open as she stared contentedly at the ceiling, as if she were perfectly happy about drowning herself.

The bathroom was flooded.

In the silence, the sound of rushing water was so jarring, and the steam rose. For some reason, a water-stained handprint appeared on the mirror in front of the sink.

Tiny water droplets drooped down, turning into streams that flowed down.

"Here!"

Several running footsteps sounded outside the bathroom, then the door was kicked open, and three men rushed in. Their clothes were different from the women's uniforms. Although they were also white, the women's uniforms were loose and comfortable, while the three men wore trousers made of special material, paired with tactical boots, and simple and convenient jackets over their upper bodies.

Furthermore, they wore metal mesh masks on the lower half of their faces, and gun holsters were strapped to their thighs, highlighting the outline of a pistol.

The tallest man, seeing the scene before him, immediately picked up the walkie-talkie hanging around his neck and said coldly, "The infected person is confirmed dead. Judging from the situation at the scene, it was still infected with the Water Ghost type vengeful spirit virus, drowning itself through drinking water and suffocation. Yes, after we clean up the scene, we will transport the body to the experimental area."

After hanging up the walkie-talkie, the tall man said to his two companions, "Let's clean up the scene. This is the third person infected with the Water Ghost virus this week. It's basically confirmed that the source of infection has infiltrated the base. Tomorrow, the commander will definitely arrange for the entire base to undergo medical screening... Sigh, another huge project."

The three men sprang into action, two of them appearing quite skilled, clearly having handled similar death scenes more than once.

Wearing protective gloves, they carefully lifted the woman's body and placed it into a newly prepared body bag, as if they were handling a bomb that could explode at any moment.

Another young man, who seemed a bit more inexperienced, simply went to the sink, turned off the faucet, opened the drain plug, and directed the water that had accumulated in the sink down into the sewer.

The young man in the mirror was not tall, but his posture was extremely upright. His hair was too long by male standards and was tied into a high ponytail at the back of his head.

A few strands of hair fell down from his temples, which surprisingly matched his exposed, effeminate upper face perfectly. His eyebrows were long and thin, and his eyes were like stars. He truly deserved the description of having "eyebrows and eyes as beautiful as a painting."

Anyone who sees him would probably feel sorry that such a beautiful face was given to a man.

The young man glanced down at the new sailor's handprint on the mirror, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes. He asked the other two busy workers in a tone befitting a junior seeking guidance, "Was this handprint made by her... or was it left by something else?"

"Well... there are no security cameras in the bathroom, so we're not too sure." The tall man scratched his head. "The vengeful spirit virus has many symptoms that don't make sense. It's normal for handprints to appear out of nowhere. When I was out on a mission before, I even encountered a reincarnation-type virus that could make an infected person jump off a building to their death and then reappear on the sixth floor out of nowhere."

The young man listened and sighed with a touch of sorrow, "This virus is truly miraculous... It's impossible to guard against, and its harm is immense. When will humanity be able to emerge from the shadow of this vengeful apocalypse...?"

"Thinking about that too early. The base is currently planning its development, isn't it? Sigh, I knew you'd have some mental issues since you just joined the cleanup team. Let me tell you, things like this are commonplace for us. You need to get used to it quickly and don't be too scared." The tall man advised him like a senior, adding, "Anyway, take precautions. No matter what type of vengeful spirit virus it is, once you get infected, you're done for."

The man chattered on about his experiences, dispelling some of the silence in the night. In a corner where no one was paying attention, a small, exquisitely cut paper figure peeked out from behind a trash can.

The paper figure's features were horribly disfigured, and its perfunctory eyes stared intently at the three people cleaning up the scene, becoming a fourth pair of eyes lurking in the darkness.

Suddenly, the obedient young man looked up, as if sensing something, and stared straight at the direction of the trash can. The little paper figure immediately shrank back and didn't dare to move.

A half-smile appeared on the young man's face as he calmly walked over and precisely pinched the paper figure as it suddenly turned to despair.

The tall man was giving a lecture when the junior suddenly left. He had initially wanted to reprimand the junior more sternly, to make the junior listen carefully, as these were matters of life and death.

But seeing the back of his junior, for some reason, he couldn't utter a single serious word. A few seconds later, even the slightest hint of dissatisfaction vanished, as if it had never existed.

The tall man scratched his head in confusion, feeling like he'd forgotten something but couldn't quite place it. Seeing the newcomer to the cleaning team standing next to the trash can, he couldn't help but ask, "... A Ling, what are you looking at?"

With her back to her two colleagues, "A Ling" mischievously wet the paper figure, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash can before replying, "It's nothing, a piece of waste paper fell out, I just put it where it belonged."

------Aside------

This chapter is about the interior of the deduction instance.