Necrosis (I)

He raised the scalpel and brought it down.

Zhou Zhi slowly lifted the scalpel.

In an instant, the entire alley was littered with chunks of Mucus Man's corpse.

As if blood had splattered everywhere, the ground was covered in foul-smelling mucus.

"Xiao Jie!"

"Xiao Jie!"

Ignoring Uncle Liang, who was weeping uncontrollably, Zhou Zhi slowly turned his right hand.

An inexplicable heat surged within him, like magma churning beneath the earth.

After an operation, of course, a scalpel needed to be sterilized.

The other Plague Extermination Art Zhou Zhi had mastered, [High-Temperature Boiling], relied on extreme heat to eradicate pestilence.

The scalpel gradually heated up, and the mucus slowly faded away.

Nearly a minute later,

Zhou Zhi lowered his hand.

As expected.

The temperature was too low.

Under normal circumstances, sterilizing something by boiling it would have been enough.

But that was in the world before.

Zhou Zhi knew all too well that if high temperatures alone could prevent disease, ordinary people could do it themselves. There would be no need for so-called Plague Exterminators.

[Worn Scalpel].

[By ordinary standards, it could hardly be called a scalpel, yet its owner treasured it as if it were a priceless gem].

[It seems to conceal unknown power].

[Contaminated by Mucus Man's mucus. After high-temperature sterilization, the influenza virus has not been completely eradicated].

[Its owner will be subject to the following effects].

[1. Pathogenization Index increases by five percent.]

[2. Wounds inflicted by Clinical Martial Arts have a chance of causing influenza virus infection].

[3. Influenza antibodies increase slightly].

Zhou Zhi transferred the scalpel from his left hand to his right.

Even though he had wiped it clean and not a trace of mucus remained on it, Zhou Zhi still felt an inexplicable stickiness.

"Th-that was... incredible."

"So this is what a Plague Exterminator is?"

"Boss..."

Lei Heng's lackeys whispered among themselves.

The threat posed by Mucus Man seemed to vanish in an instant.

The mucus on the ground and the three or four dead people did not make them grieve much.

They were simply relieved that they were still alive,

and that they had a real Plague Exterminator protecting them.

"Plague Exterminators master the Plague Extermination Art. Their physical abilities undergo a complete transformation compared to those of ordinary humans."

Xia Yu's hair stirred slightly, and her eyes glimmered. "I've only heard about it at the academy."

She had seen every movement Zhou Zhi made when he slew Mucus Man.

An ordinary person could never leap three meters into the air and land with a stylish spin.

The blade sliced through Mucus Man's skin as easily as a knife through tofu.

Glancing at Uncle Liang, who was wailing inconsolably, Xia Yu sighed.

"Uncle Liang."

"Those who have fully pathogenized and become Disease Seeds are as good as dead already."

"Please accept my condolences."

Xia Yu helped Uncle Liang to his feet.

Xiao Nan found a piece of white cloth and covered the muscular Mucus Man's face.

"Brother Jie was such a good person. He was honest and kind..."

Xiao Nan lowered his head.

"Now's not the time to dwell on that. The dead can't come back to life,"

Xia Yu said.

It was hard to imagine what would have happened to them without Zhou Zhi.

Perhaps Lei Heng and his men could have escaped, but Xia Yu's patients could not.

During the Mucus Man attack, three or four of her patients had already been killed.

Now, the Mucus Men in this alley had all been killed, at least for the time being.

The Mucus Men from other areas would not spread here anytime soon, so this was a good opportunity to look for supplies.

Lei Heng and his men had taken the lead, already heading deeper into the alley with their weapons.

"Al... all right... I understand..."

Uncle Liang wiped his tears. His wrinkled skin looked almost withered, like the bark of a dead tree.

A world not much different from his past life.

At least, that was how it felt to Zhou Zhi.

He passed through dark alleys and low-roofed houses.

Stones were piled atop one another in crooked stacks.

A thin layer of white mold hung over the strange windows.

A faint, fishy smell drifted through the air along the narrow paths.

A snow-white face was pressed hard against the window of a house Zhou Zhi passed, as if it had been crushed.

It seemed to be trying to crawl out through the window.

Zhou Zhi met its gaze and realized it was a dead [Mucus Man].

"Mucus Men are monsters born when ordinary humans become infected with the [Influenza Plague] and reach a certain degree of pathogenization."

"But they aren't much stronger than ordinary people. Several strong adults can easily kill one."

"The only real nuisance is the virus they carry, but it doesn't kill you immediately."

Zhou Zhi continued forward.

This level of pestilence was terrifying, but there was no need to be this afraid.

"Found it!"

A voice rang out in the distance.

Zhou Zhi followed the sound.

He arrived at a large shop.

White colonies of mold covered the entrance.

"This is Uncle Liang's home... and his shop!"

Xiao Nan pointed at the sign above and shouted.

The chill in the air had not faded.

Zhou Zhi stood at the back of the group, watching everyone push open the door and enter.

Most of the Mucus Men had been eliminated, so by all rights, this place should have been safe.

But Zhou Zhi couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them.

From the street, from the alley's end.

As a doctor, he knew the importance of being thorough.

He climbed the steps and entered Uncle Liang's shop.

According to Xiao Nan, Uncle Liang's shop sold everyday goods, such as salt, sugar, and oil. Before the pestilence struck, it had been a lively place.

It was called a shop, but it was really Uncle Liang's home.

Goods were displayed by the front entrance, while a small courtyard lay at the back.

Lei Heng and the others quickly scavenged for supplies, wiping the white fuzz off them.

Before Zhou Zhi had even stepped inside, he heard Uncle Liang's heart-wrenching cries.

"Wife!!!!!!"

Uncle Liang's wife lay on the bed.

She had been dead for some time, surrounded by white fuzz.

Her emaciated body had not yet begun to decay, and her cheeks were sunken.

Mucus ran down her body, filling the room with a foul stench.

"Hurry up, take those things too!"

"And these!"

"Take them all!"

Lei Heng shouted excitedly as he directed the others, his tiny eyes gleaming.

Zhou Zhi looked around.

An ordinary family.

And with the burly Mucus Man from earlier, it had been a proper family of three.

Zhou Zhi couldn't help sighing. He had seen this kind of separation in life and death countless times before.

Sometimes, anguished sobbing filled the snow-white hospital corridors.

Zhou Zhi walked past the table in the back.

Suddenly, he seemed to notice something.

He crouched down.

Before him was the underside of the wooden tabletop.

Scratch marks.

Human scratch marks.

There were quite a few, and they looked old.

[Someone's Scratch Marks].

[Someone had knelt before this table and endured immense pain].

The message flickered.

Zhou Zhi calmly stood up.

He went inside.

The house wasn't large, and it had only two rooms.

One belonged to Uncle Liang and his wife. The other, naturally, belonged to their son.

Zhou Zhi didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open.

A faint stench wafted out.

"The smell of rotting food."

Zhou Zhi frowned.