After measuring Li Long's temperature, Shao Ming found that it had reached nearly 40 degrees Celsius. Was it an infection from the wound, sepsis, a severe infection from the aftereffects, or just a simple cold?
Shao Ming wasn't a doctor, but he had to try to figure out the cause.
He carefully removed the bandages from Li Long's leg, but there were no signs of infection or necrosis. If it had been an infection, the wound would have been pus-filled, but it looked relatively clean. If it was sepsis, he had disinfected the wound with alcohol and changed the bandages over the past two days, so it was unlikely that any bacteria had entered the bloodstream.
Shao Ming sighed and picked up a bottle of alcohol spray.
"Take it away, I don't want it," Li Long said weakly when he saw Shao Ming reaching for the alcohol spray. "Don't make me suffer anymore…"
"Don't think like that…" Shao Ming replied. "I think it's probably just a cold."
"I don't know…" Li Long whispered, "They say that when someone is about to die, they can feel it. I feel it…"
Shao Ming was on the verge of shouting at Li Long for his defeatist attitude, especially without even knowing what was wrong with him.
"Let's try some fever medicine first," Shao Ming said, handing Li Long some fever medication.
Li Long swallowed the pills, and Shao Ming rebandaged his wound, carefully helping him lie back on the bed and cover him with a blanket.
Li Long didn't speak; he just stared blankly at the ceiling.
Shao Ming wasn't sure what he was thinking. What does one think when they know their time has come? If it were him, would he be any different?
He shook his head. Li Long might not necessarily be dying—he couldn't think like that.
"I'll go make us something to eat," Shao Ming said, standing up.
After preparing lunch, Shao Ming placed it on the bedside table, but Li Long didn't touch it. He merely glanced at the food, and Shao Ming didn't say anything, quietly leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.
Having been active all morning, he was feeling sore all over. Outside the window, the rain was gradually stopping, and the dark clouds were slowly retreating.
Shao Ming looked at his phone. There was still a network connection, and many survivors were uploading their status. Compared to the chaos and panic of the previous days, the photos and videos now felt desolate and filled with despair. More and more people had turned into mutated creatures, while those who hadn't were barely holding on, watching out for the creatures' predatory gaze. The military, which should have been keeping order in the city, was now falling apart from within—before they even had the chance to fight, some of them had already mutated. From celebrities and billionaires to beggars and ordinary citizens, this catastrophe affected everyone.
He scrolled through more posts about the aftereffects and mutations, but there was nothing new—only more speculation and theories.
Shao Ming didn't want to think about it. He wanted to believe Li Long just had a cold.
Carrying the cold medicine back to Li Long's room, he found that the lunch he had placed earlier remained untouched.
"Drink this medicine," Shao Ming said, handing Li Long a bowl of prepared cold medicine.
Li Long took the bowl and sipped. To Shao Ming's surprise, the medicine, which should have been bitter, tasted like plain water to Li Long.
"I can't taste it…" Li Long said softly, realizing his sense of taste had disappeared.
Frustrated, Li Long suddenly hurled the bowl across the room, his anger flaring.
"Don't do that," Shao Ming urged. "It's probably just a cold, fever is common with it too…"
But Li Long cut him off, his voice trembling. "You don't get it… I can feel it… it's not just a cold, it's different."
He paused for a moment, his eyes filled with fear. "If I mutate… kill me. I don't want to become a monster."
Shao Ming snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "I won't kill you. You're still human. You won't necessarily turn into one of those creatures!"
Li Long sobbed quietly. "I want to go home…"
The muscular young man, barely in his twenties, was still just a child deep down. He wanted his mother, his father. Everything Shao Ming and he had done wasn't just for survival—it was to be able to return home. But now, that dream seemed impossible.
Shao Ming looked at Li Long, his companion for two years of studying abroad. Suddenly, he realized that this might really be the end for him.
Li Long might have been strong, but when death came knocking, all that strength crumbled in the face of the inevitable.
"We'll get home," Shao Ming said softly, unable to bear the sight of his friend in such despair. He left the room quietly.
Shao Ming sat in the living room, going over all the information he had on the aftereffects. The more he read, the more certain he became that Li Long was suffering from the aftereffects—his symptoms were already clear. Most mutations only showed one or two symptoms before transforming, but Li Long was showing nearly every symptom.
In the bedroom, Li Long had become silent, only lying there, crying quietly.
Shao Ming wasn't sure how long it had passed, but suddenly, he heard a strange noise from Li Long's room. Rushing in, he was hit by a putrid stench—so foul it almost made him vomit. The smell was even worse than the smell of a decaying corpse.
Inside, Li Long lay motionless on the bed, even more frail than before. His skin had become an unnatural, ghostly white, and he was no longer able to control his bodily functions. Worse, what he had excreted wasn't normal waste—it was blood.
Shao Ming remembered what Gary had told him earlier that morning. The mutation time had shortened to just one or two days.
Li Long, noticing Shao Ming, weakly reached out a hand. "Home…" he whispered.
Shao Ming took his hand and whispered, "Home. We will go home."
Li Long's eyes slowly closed, his grip on Shao Ming's hand growing weaker.
Shao Ming gently released Li Long's hand and took a step back. He pulled out his pistol from his waist.
He couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He remembered the first day he met Li Long—this young man had immediately put his arm around Shao Ming's shoulder, as if they had known each other forever.
He remembered their classes together, their time experiencing a foreign culture, and how they used to joke about how bad British food was.
He remembered how, after the mutation outbreak, they fought their way through the panicking crowds, scavenged for supplies, and dealt with Bladen.
A tear slid down Shao Ming's cheek as he aimed the pistol at Li Long's head.
He pulled the trigger.