novelbin Chapter 17 Funeral Parlor? Forget about it.
Chapter 17 Funeral Parlor? Forget about it.
He Quan lives not far from the school.
The top floor of a six-story apartment building has three separate bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen, along with a well-lit balcony.
He has been in this world for a week.
He used an identity-designated prop and chose the identity of a physical education teacher at Tianwangzhou Middle School.
Passport, visa, teacher's certificate, rental contract, all automatically generated, seamlessly.
The principal's eyes lit up when he saw his resume: a graduate of a prestigious foreign university, an all-around athlete, and with an excellent image and temperament—it was like a brand that had fallen from the sky.
As for why he chose to become a physical education teacher?
Of course, it's so I can have more in-depth interactions with Inori and the others at school!
In the past few days, he has met many important characters from the original work and gained some chances to win prizes.
I'll save up a few more pulls before trying again, and see if I can get the guaranteed pull.
The items he drew last time had given him a lot of fun, especially those two amazing talents.
Although the attribute still cannot break through the 9.9 limit, it is more than enough for this world.
A complete stomp.
He Quan led Yuzuriha Inori into the apartment and closed the door.
Yuzuriha Inori stood in the entryway, her deep red eyes sweeping across the living room.
The space wasn't large, and the furnishings were simple: a dark gray fabric sofa, a glass coffee table, and a flat-screen TV on the wall. The kitchen was open-plan, and the stovetop was so clean it looked like it had never been used.
Her gaze finally settled on He's entire body.
"sit."
He Quan pointed to the sofa.
Yuzuriha Inori did not move.
She stood there, her light pink twin ponytails hanging down her shoulders.
Yuzuriha Inori asked softly, "Who are you?"
You can call me He Quan.
He Quan walked over to the sofa, sat down, crossed his legs, and said in a relaxed manner: "The physical education teacher at Tianwangzhou Middle School."
Yuzuriha Inori's eyes flickered.
Physical education teacher?
She didn't believe He Quan's words at all.
"thing."
Yuzuriha Inori said, her voice low but clear, "Give it back to me."
She was referring to the Void Genome placed inside Finaru, which He Quan had previously taken and hidden away.
He Quan said casually, "Don't even think about it, it's impossible."
Yuzuriha Inori looked at him and remained silent for a few seconds.
"That's what I'm going to give to Ya."
He Quan tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips: "He should be able to find us soon. Let him come and get it himself then."
Yuzuriha Inori's eyes flickered, and she opened her mouth, but before she could speak, another voice rang out first.
Gurgle.
It was very light, but exceptionally clear in the quiet living room.
Yuzuriha Inori lowered her head and looked at her stomach.
Her expression remained calm, like a still pond.
He Quan asked with a smile, "Are you hungry?"
Yuzuriha Inori did not speak.
She escaped from GHQ's research institute, fell into the lake, hid in the ruins, and was then taken away by He Quan. She didn't know how long the whole process lasted, and she could hardly remember when she last ate anything.
He Quan stood up and walked to the dining table.
A neatly folded light-colored tablecloth inexplicably appeared in my hand. With a flick of my wrist, the cloth unfolded, creating a slight rustling sound, and spread out on the table.
The edges are embroidered with simple patterns, making it look like ordinary cotton and linen fabric.
Yuzuriha Inori stared at the tablecloth, wondering what he was going to do.
"Seafood hot pot, rice, miso soup, tamagoyaki..."
Every time He Quan announced a dish, an additional dish would appear on the table.
Inori Yuzuriha's eyes widened slightly as she looked at the food that had suddenly appeared on the table with a puzzled expression. "Is this magic?" she asked.
"Yes, magic."
He Quan pulled out a chair and sat down: "Eat."
Yuzuriha stood still, looked at the food on the table, and then at He Quan.
Reason told her she shouldn't eat something conjured by a strange man. But her body was more honest than her reason, and her stomach growled again.
She walked to the dining table, sat down opposite He Quan, and then picked up her chopsticks.
She picked up a piece of seafood, put it in her mouth, and chewed it very slowly, as if she was confirming something, and then picked up another piece.
He Quan didn't eat; he leaned back in his chair and looked at her.
He said, "Don't even think about running away."
Yuzuriha Inori paused for a moment with her chopsticks.
He Quan continued, "The clothes you're wearing will restrict you."
Yuzuriha Inori sensed it.
The fabric of her school uniform clung to her skin and suddenly became warm.
Starting from the shoulders, the warm sensation spreads along the collarbone to both sides, glides over the upper arms, around the elbows, and lands on the forearms.
The parts of my body covered by the school uniform started to look strange again...
Yuzuriha Inori's fingers tightened slightly as she gripped the chopsticks, her breath catching in her throat.
But the sensation quickly disappeared.
The fabric returned to its normal texture, clinging to her skin as if nothing had happened.
Yuzuriha Inori raised her head and looked at He Quan.
A very faint pink tinge appeared on her cheeks, and her breathing had not yet fully calmed down.
But her expression remained calm; her deep red eyes held no fear, no anger, only a pure earnestness in trying to understand the person before her.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
He Quan is now a physical education teacher.
He Quan stood up and casually said, "Starting tomorrow, you'll be coming to school with me. I've already given you your school uniform and arranged your identification."
"From now on, you will be an ordinary student at Tianwangzhou Middle School."
Yuzuriha Inori put down her chopsticks and looked at him: "I'm not a student."
He Quan: "It is now."
Yuzuriha Inori looked at him: "I'm a member of the funeral home; they need me."
"Funeral Society?"
He Quan chuckled. The laughter was soft, but Yuzuriha Inori understood its meaning—a condescending, casual tone, as if looking at children playing house: "Forget it."
Yuzuriha Inori didn't say anything more. She lowered her head and looked at the food on the table, which was only half-eaten.
"Ya will come looking for me," she said.
"I know."
He Quan's tone remained casual.
......
Abandoned commercial buildings on the edge of the Roppongi lockdown zone.
The light of dusk poured down through the cracks in the broken ceiling, turning the ruins into a dark orange-red.
Gai Tsutsugami stood in the center of the hall, his long golden hair gleaming with a cool luster in the twilight.
On the ground in front of him, there was a small pile of white fragments.
Finaru.
The egg-shaped shell was crushed to pieces, and tiny plastic and metal fragments mixed in with the dust, making it almost impossible to discern its original shape.
The display screen was shattered, the circuit board was exposed, and several thin wires protruded from the wreckage like severed nerves.
Thrush crouched beside the debris, holding a small scanner in her hand, with analytical data scrolling across the screen.
"It's not a gun."
Her voice was clearly confused: "It wasn't an explosion. All the cracks spread outwards from the center, and the direction of the force was consistent. It was crushed directly by a hand."
She paused, then looked up at Gai Tsutsugami: "What kind of power could crush Finaru's shell? Its shell is made of military-grade composite material."
Gai Tsutsugami remained silent.
He looked down at the pile of fragments.
Finar is Yuzuriha Inori's only companion.
From the day she woke up in GHQ's research institute, this little white robot has been by her side ever since.
Communication, reconnaissance, assistance, companionship. She wasn't good at expressing her emotions, but Gai Tsutsugami knew what Finaru meant to her.
Now it's been crushed.
A complex emotion welled up in Gai Tsutsugami's heart. It wasn't because Finaru was destroyed; it was just a small robot. Funeral Parlor had lost far more valuable things before.
It's because of the message this event conveys.
Someone subdued Yuzuriha Inori, while someone else destroyed Finaru.
Yuzuriha Inori didn't even have time to send a distress signal.
This means that things are developing in a direction he cannot predict.
Gai Tsutsugami didn't like this feeling.
As the head of the funeral home, he was used to being in control of the whole situation.
Every action, every variable, and every possible outcome is within his calculations.
But this time, an unknown factor entered the game, and he didn't even know who the opponent was.
"End of the world".
The sound of the thrush interrupted his thoughts.
She squatted on the ground, holding a portable terminal in her hand, with a frozen frame of surveillance footage on the screen.
The image was somewhat blurry, but the outlines of two people were still visible: a tall man and a girl in a school uniform. The girl's pink hair was tied in pigtails, and she was walking beside the man with her head down.
Yuzuriha Inori.
Traffic monitoring outside the lockdown area.
Tsuru lowered her voice: "This happened shortly after Finaru went missing. Look at the clothes she was wearing."
Gai Tsutsugami stared at the screen. Inori Yuzuriha was wearing a dark blue school uniform, a white shirt, and a plaid skirt. Not the goldfish outfit.
"She couldn't possibly have changed her clothes herself."
The thrush said, "That person changed it for her."
Gai Tsutsugami's pupils contracted slightly.
"Can you find out who that man is?" he asked.
"It's already under investigation."
Tsurugi's fingers flew across the terminal, and the data on the screen scrolled like a waterfall.
She stopped after a few seconds.
"He Quan. Twenty-five years old. He entered the country from abroad a week ago and is currently holding a work visa."
"The physical education teacher at Tianwangzhou Middle School."
Gai Tsutsugami frowned slightly.
"The PE teacher?"
"His background information seems normal: a graduate of a prestigious foreign university with a degree in sports science, and a full set of teaching qualifications. No criminal record, no political affiliation, and nothing suspicious."
Dong paused, then his lips twitched slightly: "The only special thing is this."
She turned the terminal around; the screen displayed a forum page. It was the unofficial student forum of Tianwangzhou Middle School, and the post list was filled with the same name.
"I saw that Teacher He Quan was wearing sportswear today! The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows! His arm lines are amazing!"
Does anyone know what type of girl he likes?
"No matter what type he likes, I can become that type."
"What can I do to get Professor He Quan to pay more attention to me?"
The post with the most replies is titled "【Teacher He Quan's Picture Thread, Updated Regularly, Additions Welcome】".
The room was full of secretly taken photos: He Quan walking in the corridor, He Quan standing on the playground, and He Quan leaning against the door of the teachers' room.
Gai Tsutsugami stared at the infatuated posts on the screen and remained silent for a few seconds.
"Is there anything else?" he asked.
"That's it. That's all." Tsugumi put the terminal away. "All his information is too clean, as if it had been carefully prepared."
"Your judgment?"
"Two possibilities. First, he really was just an ordinary physical education teacher who happened to be passing by, happened to take Yuzuriha Inori away, and happened to have the strength to crush military-grade composite material with one hand."
Tsugumi held up two fingers: "Secondly, his background is fabricated, his identity is meticulously designed, and his purpose is to get close to Yuzuriha Inori or infiltrate Tennozu Middle School. I personally lean towards the second one."
Why?
"Because he's too good-looking. A normal PE teacher shouldn't look like that."
"..."
Gai Tsutsugami did not respond.
He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the pile of white debris on the floor. Twilight streamed down from the broken ceiling, casting a dark golden glow on the edges of the fragments.
He thought of Yuzuriha Inori, and the way she first opened her eyes in the research institute, her deep red eyes empty and blank, like a child who didn't know where she was.
Gai Tsutsugami turned around, put his hands in the pockets of his red coat, and looked toward the entrance to the ruins.
The setting sun cast his shadow long, stretching all the way to the edge of the pile of white fragments.
Something is slipping out of his control.
......
Roppongi Blockade Zone, Checkpoint C.
The light of dusk bathed the entire street in a murky orange-red hue.
A barricade stood in the middle of the street, barbed wire and concrete barriers forming a gray defensive line. GHQ soldiers wearing gas masks stood in two rows, their guns pointed at the crowd thronging around the barricade.
"Cooperate with the inspection! Everyone line up! Show your ID!"
The sound from the loudspeaker was mechanical and cold, repeating itself over and over again.
A commotion broke out in the crowd.
Several soldiers rushed into the crowd and dragged a middle-aged man out. The man struggled and shouted in a hoarse voice, "I'm not infected! I'm not!" But the soldiers ignored him.
The butt of the rifle slammed into his back with a dull thud.
The man knelt down, and then another kick landed on his side.
He was curled up on the ground, his hands covering his head, muttering something under his breath.
"Stop! Please stop!"
A woman rushed out of the crowd. She wore a cheap printed dress, the hem of which was faded from washing, and her hair was tied haphazardly at the back of her head. She rushed to the soldier, clasped her hands together, and her voice trembled.
"My husband isn't infected! He just has a cold! Please..."
The soldier glanced at her but ignored her. The rifle butt fell again, slamming into the man's shoulder. The bone creaked slightly.
"Mother......"
A little boy, about four or five years old, stood at the edge of the crowd, his small hands clutching the hem of a woman's skirt. His face was dirty, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his lips were trembling.
"Mommy, I need to pee..."
The woman lowered her head and looked at the child. Her lips moved, forcing out a smile that was more like a grimace.
"Be good, just bear with it a little longer, it'll be over soon, it'll be over soon..."
Her hands were trembling.
This is the world brought about by the Apocalypse virus.
The virus gradually transforms the infected person's body into metallic-like crystals, starting from the skin's surface and spreading inward layer by layer until the entire body becomes a grayish-white statue covered with crystal clusters.
The infected will not die immediately. Their consciousness will remain for a long time, trapped in their crystallized bodies, unable to move, speak, or close their eyes, only able to quietly wait for the last inch of their flesh to be devoured by the crystals.
Special Virus Disaster Management Bureau (SVD) is an independent agency under GHQ.
They have the right to designate anyone as "infected" without medical testing, legal proceedings, or any evidence.
If they say you are, then you are.
They have the right to execute infected individuals who "refuse to cooperate" on the spot.
They have the right to do anything.
The man was dragged off the ground. Two soldiers held his arms and pulled him toward a white police van parked by the roadside. His legs dragged on the ground, the soles of his shoes worn through, revealing his bloody, mangled feet.
"Please..."
The woman's voice was hoarse. She knelt on the ground, her forehead pressed against the dusty floor, kowtowing repeatedly.
"Please, please let him go... He's really not infected... He just has a cold..."
The soldier didn't look at her.
She looked up, her desperate gaze sweeping across the crowd. Then she saw someone.
A boy.
He stood to the side of the checkpoint, away from the crowd and noise. He had short, light blond hair, a slender build, and wore a well-tailored GHQ officer's uniform.
He held a wildflower he had picked by the roadside in his hand, its slender stem twirling gently between his fingertips. The yellow petals appeared exceptionally vibrant in the twilight.
He looked down at the flower, muttering to himself.
"What a tragic sight! It touched my heart."
The woman's eyes lit up, and she struggled to her feet, stumbling as she rushed toward the boy.
"Sir!"
Her voice was hoarse and shrill, like a drowning person clinging to the last piece of driftwood.
"Sir! Please! Save my husband! He's really not infected! He just has a cold!"
Her hand grasped the boy's sleeve.
The boy stopped moving.
He looked down at the hand gripping his sleeve. The fingernails were filled with grime, and there was a fresh abrasion on the back of the hand, from which tiny beads of blood oozed.
His expression changed.
The languid melancholy transformed into an extreme, undisguised disgust.
"What are you doing?!"
He kicked the woman in the chest. She flew backward and crashed heavily to the ground, her head hitting the concrete pavement with a dull thud.
"Old woman!!!"
The boy's voice was sharp and shrill, his face filled with disgust and anger.
"What if you infected me?! Huh?!"
He rushed forward, raised his foot, and kicked the woman's head hard, once, twice, three times, each time hitting the same spot.
The woman's body convulsed, her hands weakly trying to protect her head, but each time they were kicked away.
Blood gushed from her forehead, nose, and lips, staining the boy's boots and the gray cement pavement.
"Mother!!!"
The little boy screamed and rushed over. He threw himself on the woman, using his small body to shield the boy's feet.
"Don't kick my mom! Don't kick my mom!"
The boy looked down at him, a look of disgust still lingering on his lips.
"Really."
He raised his pistol and pointed the muzzle at the little boy's forehead.
"It's just having a baby, why has she become so annoying?"
"Bang."
The woman stopped moving.
The little boy's screams stopped abruptly. He knelt in the pool of blood, staring blankly at the motionless body on the ground.
The boy withdrew his foot, looked down at the bloodstains on the sole of his boot, and frowned.
"Tsk."
He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, bent down to wipe his boots, and then casually tossed the dirty handkerchief next to the woman's body.
Darilo, the youngest second lieutenant in the GHQ policing force, is not known for his exceptional strategic vision or outstanding academic record at military academy.
It was not because his father was a major general, but because he had shown "extraordinary enthusiasm" in suppressing civilian uprisings in the blockade zone.
It's because he enjoys the process.
He crushes a person's dignity with his boots, breaks a person's bones with the butt of his gun, and watches those "inferior beings" struggle, beg for mercy, cry, and then die at his feet.
He liked this feeling.
Some people within GHQ privately call him "Fang".
The most evil and ferocious fangs.
Daryl threw the handkerchief on the ground and turned to leave.
I paused for a moment as I passed the little boy.
The little boy knelt in a pool of blood, his hands still in the same position as when he had protected his mother.
His eyes were wide open, his pupils reflecting the twilight sky and his mother's motionless body.
He didn't cry, not because he wasn't sad, but because his young mind couldn't yet comprehend what death was.
Daryl looked at him and tilted his head.
Don't look at me like that.
He raised his pistol.
"I'm just cleaning up infected people."
"Bang."
The gunshots echoed for a long time in the empty streets.
(End of this chapter)