Hua Zhen slowly unbuttoned his cuff and inhaled sharply.
The bite wound oozed blood, and a cluster of fuzzy, grey, thread-like entities writhed at the site, seemingly eager to emerge, presenting a ghastly sight.
The murky, yellow-speckled mist was emanating from these velvet-like clusters.
"What in the world…"
Hua Zhen watched the squirming mass with revulsion.
At that moment, a roar echoed from the other end of the corridor.
For some reason, upon seeing Hua Zhen, the landlady reacted as if spotting prey, heralding her attack with a cry before charging towards him.
She seemed to observe the martial code of honor.
Hua Zhen instinctively glanced behind to ensure no one, like the man on the ground, was poised to strike him. Confirming there was no one, he realized the landlady was targeting him.
Without a moment to ponder, Hua Zhen fled, racing back to his home before the zombified landlady could catch him, locking the door in one fluid motion.
The door banged loudly as the zombie pounded on it from outside.
Hua Zhen's sweat poured down.
The landlady had sprinted over in a bloodthirsty frenzy, and he had nearly ended up unrecognizable like the man before, had he not checked for an assassin.
While terrified, Hua Zhen was also perplexed.
What on earth was happening?
Why had the landlady suddenly resumed her attack on him?
Weren't they both zombies, allies in this undead existence?
Even if zombies did cannibalize their own, she should have finished with the man on the ground first, who was still quite fresh!
At that moment, Hua Zhen felt an itch on his cheek, a liquid trickling down.
Touching it, he realized it was sweat.
Do zombies… sweat?
Stunned, Hua Zhen then rushed into the bathroom as if realizing something.
Staring at his reflection, he was dumbfounded.
For now, in the mirror, he appeared normal, with clear pupils, nothing like a zombie.
"What's going on…?"
"Have I… changed back?"
Hua Zhen felt his mind reeling.
Just five minutes earlier, his reflection had undoubtedly been that of a zombie.
It was no illusion.
He vividly remembered that horrifying visage.
Eyes threaded with blood, pupils gleaming with a dull yellow sheen.
A pallor as of the dead.
And veins crisscrossing like a web of dark blue.
This explained it; bitten half a month ago, he had become a zombie, which is why he hadn't perished after sleeping for days.
If not for the gleam in his eyes, he wouldn't have recognized himself in the mirror.
But the current situation was highly irregular!
To say he had antibodies, yet he became a zombie.
To say he was infected, yet he reverted so soon.
Was he caught in a cycle of transformation?
Regardless, Hua Zhen felt compelled to understand what was happening to him.
He looked at his left arm.
The signs of infection at the wound had vanished, even showing signs of scabbing.
And the velvet-like mass had burrowed out of the wound, now lying in the sink, still writhing, unsettling to behold.
From zombie to human again…
Was this phenomenon an anomaly?
Though it seemed unlikely, Hua Zhen began searching the internet for related information.
It was as he had anticipated.
The information gleaned from the internet was unequivocally grim: infection spelled a one-way path to doom.
Those bitten by such zombies would, within a matter of hours or at most a couple of days, inexorably join their ranks.
Yet, there were no known cases like Hua Zhen's, who had reverted from his zombified state.
The crux of the matter was… what exactly triggered the reversal?
Hua Zhen pondered deeply.
Until his playful greeting with the zombified landlady, he had remained in his "zombie" persona.
However, after rifling through the man's belongings, a dark yellow mist began to emanate from his left arm, accompanied by grey, seaweed-like filaments emerging from the wound.
Hua Zhen eyed the writhing mass in the sink.
Could this be the key?
He ventured into the kitchen, procured a lidded plastic container, and then armed himself with a pair of chopsticks and a fruit knife.
Returning to the bathroom, he gingerly extracted the grey filaments with the chopsticks and secured them in the container.
Scientists around the globe were undoubtedly researching a cure or vaccine for the zombie affliction, a field where Hua Zhen's expertise was not required.
Nor did he possess the knowledge for such endeavors.
Hua Zhen intended to use these peculiar items for an experiment.
That is… to transform himself back into a zombie!
Others, having narrowly escaped zombification, would not dare undertake such a perilous venture.
But Hua Zhen was not like others.
While perusing online information and various video apps, he had noticed something: although many still frequented the internet, this was merely survivorship bias.
Those devoured or infected had no chance to touch the web again.
The clearest evidence was the scarcity of video posters from his city, and the comment sections on major video and news websites were not as bustling as one would expect.
This was akin to a global bio-crisis, not some celebrity scandal topping the trending charts.
With danger lurking outside and confinement to one's home the only option, surely everyone would be huddled in bed, clutching their phones, frantically typing and posting videos to inquire about the situation, or calling for rescue.
The internet, which should have been a cacophony of chaos, was eerily quiet, much like a backstreet internet café devoid of schoolchildren.
This could only mean one thing…
Hua Zhen, clutching the container, approached the window.
Gazing upon the desolate, chaotic streets stained with blood, an unusual calm settled over him.
The apocalypse had truly arrived.
A global infection crisis had erupted, and the majority had suffered.
Observing the mutated landlady, it was clear they were not the slow-moving, dull creatures of video games.
The landlady, who would pant from climbing six floors to collect rent, was now ferociously agile as a zombie.
One could only imagine what the days ahead would hold.
And he, it seemed, could oscillate between human and zombie states.
This meant…
He could effortlessly enter human dwellings where zombies could not tread.
He could freely roam the quarantine zones where humans feared to step.
In time, the entire world would be at his feet.
Thus, Hua Zhen resolved to unravel this mystery.
Even if he failed and could not revert, it was of no consequence.
The worst-case scenario was becoming a true zombie, devoid of consciousness.
But what of it?
Hua Zhen had grown weary of his former life.
Life post-crisis, in a world on the brink of apocalypse, was even less appealing than before.
This was his chance to embark on a second life.
Hua Zhen would not let this opportunity slip away.
He drew the fruit knife and made a two-centimeter deep incision on the inside of his left upper arm, near the collarbone.
Enduring the pain, he then opened the container and carefully extracted a single wriggling "strand" with the chopsticks. Bending his left arm back, he slightly spread the wound and placed the entity upon it.