The K-City Contamination Disease Prevention Center is bustling with activity.

As a logistics department, the Center’s miscellaneous duties include, but are not limited to: public education on contamination diseases, reception of “Apocalyptic” (Awakened) individuals, logistical support, and psychological counseling. In short, it is not strange to see people coming and going in the main hall.

As soon as Lu Yan stepped into the main hall, he sensed many gazes falling upon him.

He had been good-looking since he was a child—so cute that people often couldn’t tell his gender; grown up, his face looked like a beautiful piece of CG modeling. Lu Yan accepted the invisible perks that came with this face, and he had to accept the colorful gazes of others as well.

However, there is a distinct difference between simple appreciation and gazes of secret observation. Because his five senses had been enhanced, Lu Yan was particularly sensitive to being watched.

In the lounge on the left side of the hall, two men were staring at him with heated gazes. One of them, a young monk, seemed eager to approach, but was held back by the other.

In the library area on the second floor, three elderly people—two men and one woman—pretended to be reading newspapers while secretly sizing him up.

The system whistled: [Don’t be so nervous. They aren’t bad people. After all, you’re the popular “healing type.” The two in the lounge want your help to treat their illnesses; the people upstairs are the Center’s psychologists, preparing to conduct a psychological and behavioral analysis on you.]

Lu Yan pursed his lips slightly.

Lin Sinan greeted him, saying he needed to hand over the mission report and asked him to wait a moment. Consequently, Lu Yan was left alone in this relatively unfamiliar environment. There were plenty of people around, but he didn’t know a single one.

Because he had been rescued before, Lu Yan had visited the Prevention Center once. The facility occupied a large area, divided into front and back sections: the front contained workspaces, living quarters, and lounges, while the back housed the encrypted archives and warehouses. The supplies needed by the Apocalyptics every month were always temporarily stored there.

As the headquarters for the Apocalyptics, no thief dared to visit.

Lu Yan didn’t stand around aimlessly for long. Soon, a staff member who had received him last time hurried by, his eyes lighting up: “Mr. Lu, you’re back.”

[Meeting someone familiar in an unfamiliar environment can indeed help lower one’s guard, don’t you think?]

Lu Yan glanced at his name tag. Surname Su, given name Fufeng.

Because of the long-term nature of handling contamination diseases, many frontline Apocalyptics were psychologically unstable. In such cases, familiar receptionists and liaisons became essential. It is worth mentioning that most people were assigned receptionists of the opposite sex. However, because Lin Sinan had informed them of Lu Yan’s sexual orientation, the Center specifically assigned a male staff member to him.

Su Fufeng had long legs and a slim waist; he was quite handsome. His expression was full of pleasant surprise: “I heard you went on a mission. It seems you’ve completed it.”

Lu Yan stared at him for two seconds and said, “I liked the suit you wore last time.”

Su Fufeng, living up to the high professional standards of the staff, replied without changing his expression: “Understood. I will go change into it in a moment. Would you like me to wear the same tie as well?”

“A gray skinny tie would suit you better.”

Upstairs, the psychologists listening to the dialogue through earpieces wrote down the first entry in their notes: Strong personality, high desire for control.

Su Fufeng was an excellent conversationalist; no matter what Lu Yan said, he could naturally pick up the topic without making it feel tedious. Within an hour, Lu Yan had contributed his total conversation quota for the past year to him.

“Confident in his professional level, arrogant and conceited.”

“Has severe mysophobia (germaphobia).”

“Craves praise… Hmm, this point is different from his records during college.”

In short, after a series of operations, what was being recorded seemed to be Lu Yan, but also didn’t quite seem like him.

[Host, your vigilance is truly strong.]

So strong that he didn’t want anyone to know what kind of person he really was.

“I just don’t like being recorded like a lab rat.”

He must have been a lab mouse in his past life, spending his whole life in a laboratory; otherwise, it would be hard for Lu Yan to explain his consistent resistance and disgust. Fortunately, the psychologists were not on call 24/7; he only had to act for a few hours at a time.

Because the conversation was quite pleasant, Lu Yan even exchanged contact information with Su Fufeng. Of course, Lu Yan was busy with work, so he definitely wouldn’t be in contact often.

Two hours later, Lin Sinan finally arrived late: “Doctor Lu, I’ve finished writing the report for this mission. It’s your turn.”

It took half an hour to write the report, and the remaining hour and a half was spent waiting for notification. Lin Sinan was likely lying for the first time, as he wasn’t very skilled at it.

Lu Yan could only say to the person beside him with slight regret: “I need to go report my work. See you later.”

The room used for writing reports in the Prevention Center looked a lot like a classroom. Even the paper used for writing looked like the exam papers from the National College Entrance Exam back in the day. The scent of ink was familiar, mixed with a bit of essential oil meant to relax the nerves. It was no wonder that even though Tang Xun’an had graduated from high school eighty-two years ago, he still had to deal with the entrance exam in his nightmares.

The level of detail in the report depended on the individual willpower of the Apocalyptic; the only requirement was not to spout nonsense. After all, this was data that everyone would read, and if the report was inaccurate, it could easily get colleagues killed.

Lu Yan did not write perfunctorily; he recorded Lu Jiahe’s abilities in detail, but omitted his experience of becoming “Lu Yan” in the dream. For this, he received 10 Contribution Points. This report would be transmitted to headquarters in encrypted form; if the data were found to be authentic, extra Contribution Points would be awarded.

Lu Yan was very puzzled by this: “How does headquarters judge the authenticity of the data?”

[Auxiliary talent, ranked 198th: “True Knowledge.” I suggest you spend 100 Contribution Points to redeem a talent ranking list, so you don’t keep asking me such idiotic questions… Oh wait, you don’t have 100 points. Never mind.]

After the report came the physical assessment. There was no need to run 1,000 meters like in college; it only measured spiritual power threshold and contamination levels.

When Lin Sinan found out that Lu Yan’s spiritual power threshold had risen to 837, while his pathomorphosis level was only 6.1, he was completely shocked.

“What have you been eating to increase this fast?” He tried his best to suppress the melancholy in his heart, “How long have you even been an Apocalyptic? It took me at least a year to reach 800! A year! And your pathomorphosis level is so low; it’s too stable.”

Lin Sinan actually knew early on that his talent was average. He had been in service for 15 years, and his former trainee contemporary Bai Qiushi was already A-rank, while he was still hovering at D-rank. But Lu Yan’s speed was truly the fastest he had ever seen in his life.

Lu Yan comforted him: “Differences between people are objectively existing. Don’t be too frustrated.”

For some reason, Lin Sinan seemed to cry even louder.

After the whole process at the Prevention Center, the sky was completely dark by the time Lu Yan finished all the procedures. He had filed the mission report and reported the consumption, claiming he had used up his special medicine in the previous nightmare. The Prevention Center staff handed him two new doses on the spot.

Lu Yan declined Lin Sinan’s offer to drive him home and walked toward the subway by himself.

Behind him, that faint, lingering feeling of being watched appeared once again. Someone was tailing him. Lu Yan turned his head, but everyone on the street looked perfectly normal. When his gaze accidentally met that of a young woman, she even walked over with a blushing face, wanting to get his WeChat.

“I’m gay,” Lu Yan spat out the sentence he had said thousands of times without hesitation, “Sorry.”

Since puberty, he had frequently rejected romantic advances from the opposite sex in this way. The system had reason to suspect that Lu Yan was essentially asexual, and his belief that he might like men was purely the result of repeated self-hypnosis and suggestion.

“Who is it?” he asked the system.

[The young monk you saw at the Prevention Center earlier and the middle-aged office worker next to him—two C-rank Apocalyptics. One is codenamed “Monk,” the other is codenamed “Detective.” The Detective has the ability to conceal himself, so you saw him, but your brain automatically filtered him out.]

[Honestly, I don’t know what’s on their minds. But combining the information I have, I think they want to ask you… to go take a look at a patient.]

Lu Yan’s data was actually classified. Many people knew that a new healing-type Apocalyptic had joined headquarters. But as for who the person was, what they looked like, where they lived, or their codename—that was classified information.

However, there is no such thing as a wall without cracks, especially when social order has not completely collapsed. Apocalyptics might not be short of money, but what about others? Like the Prevention Center staff and the researchers at the institute?

Knowing there was someone following him, Lu Yan couldn’t be bothered to go home. He got off the subway and walked straight to the hospital. Although he had joined the Special Operations Department, he hadn’t quit his job. The hospital had expressed understanding: besides Lu Yan, Director Hu, who had bought a plane ticket and ran away overnight, had also awakened, and it was said he would soon become the Vice Dean. In short, his position was reserved—no salary, no shifts, but he was welcome to come back to the hospital, and if he could perform a surgery while he was at it, even better.

Lu Yan quite liked performing surgery; it was a stress reliever.

And so, a few minutes later, Chen Shi’er watched blankly as Lu Yan put on a surgical gown and walked into the operating room. He wanted to rush up, but was stopped by the Detective: “You didn’t show up earlier, and now that they are about to perform surgery, you want to appear? Aren’t you just asking to be disliked?”

“That’s why I wanted to go earlier!”

“Earlier we were still within the surveillance range of the Prevention Center!” the Detective said earnestly, “If they find out we are privately contacting Lu Yan, what will the Prevention Center think? If Doctor Lu can’t cure him, and our boss goes back to the Prevention Center later, wouldn’t he be targeted?”

Not all Apocalyptics had joined the Prevention Center. Some liked freedom; some were afraid of death given the high casualty rate of the Special Operations Department; and some were mentally unstable after contamination—murderous, lawless, and arrogant—those were put on the red list and treated by headquarters as contaminants.

The Detective said, “It’s fine. A surgery takes at most a few hours. We’ll just wait.”

They just didn’t expect that Dr. Lu liked to work continuously, especially after his body was enhanced. He used to perform at most two or three surgeries a day, but now he did six in one breath, and he was still full of energy while the anesthesiologists were so tired they fainted.

By the time Lu Yan came out of the operating room, Chen Shi’er’s gaming account had been sanctioned by the health system for waiting too long. Seeing Lu Yan come out, Chen Shi’er’s eyes lit up immediately, and he walked over with a brilliant smile.

“Benefactor—oh no, Doctor Lu. I wonder if I could take a few minutes of your time? We would like to request an out-call visit. The price is negotiable.” He was as attentive as an old Taoist priest under a footbridge reading palms for pretty girls.

Lu Yan glanced at him faintly and said very directly, “I don’t like being followed.”

The Detective was stunned to find that even after using his “Stealth” talent, he had been discovered.

Chen Shi’er looked embarrassed: “Terribly sorry, Doctor Lu. It’s just that we were within the Prevention Center’s surveillance range, so we really didn’t dare to approach. We heard you are a healing-type Apocalyptic. We want to ask you to see our boss… His pathomorphosis level isn’t high, don’t worry, it’s absolutely safe. It’s just that the distortion level is a bit outrageous…”

“The call-out fee is negotiable. How about this: as long as you come with us to treat our boss, we’ll give you 300 Contribution Points for your trouble. If you can cure him, our boss is willing to pay 5,000 Contribution Points!”

Because his account was currently very poor, Lu Yan didn’t have much concept of the purchasing power of Contribution Points. But the dagger given to him by the Prevention Center, Cangfeng, had a market value of about 500 points. He had browsed the forum before and seen healing-type items selling for between 800 and 3,000 points.

Lu Yan’s expression showed a look of deep thought.

The system said: [Go. You’re still short 90 points for the talent list. Besides, this contaminant… is quite interesting; it shares the same source as the King Fish.]

Lu Yan was just about to agree when he heard Chen Shi’er grit his teeth: “6,000, that’s as much as we can go.”

Lu Yan was taken aback: “Ah, this.”

“6,200! Not a drop more!!” Chen Shi’er’s heart was bleeding.

Lu Yan: “…Fine.”

The black sedan drove toward the Qujiang Park villa area.

“Our boss was originally from Sichuan province; he specifically ran to K-City to find you,” Chen Shi’er chattered incessantly on the way, making the Detective wish he could sew his mouth shut, “Actually, we came to you not only because you are a healer. It’s mainly because your profession is a doctor. If unscientific methods don’t work, the boss wants to try scientific means.”

Lu Yan only half-understood: “What are ‘scientific means’?”

“Our boss is pregnant,” Chen Shi’er said with a pained expression, “A man. It’s unsolvable, so he wants to have an abortion.”

Upon hearing this, Lu Yan’s first reaction wasn’t why a man could get pregnant, but: “I’m not an obstetrician.”

“It’s all the same, all the same. The boss is very face-conscious and doesn’t want to look for other doctors. We Apocalyptics never use anesthesia for surgery—it’s likely because our brains are messed up after contamination, the anesthetic effect is poor, and it’s easy to become brain-dead.”

Lu Yan: “Why is he pregnant?”

“The boss took a commission on the forum to resolve a sudden D-rank contamination event in Fuling Province. Because the contamination area was small, just an E-rank zone.”

“The place is called Dragon Lady Lake, and the surrounding village is called Dragon Lady Village. There are only a few hundred households living by the lake. A few years ago, the women in the village stopped giving birth, while the men all became pregnant,” Chen Shi’er swallowed hard, “Ghost fetuses.”

His expression was extremely painful: “They look… very strange. Anyway, you’ll see when you see it. Our boss went to solve this incident, couldn’t find the source for a long time, but instead, his own belly grew, and he doesn’t know whose ‘seed’ it is. Not only that, he is gradually becoming weaker. He doesn’t want to go to the Prevention Center, fearing his enemies will find out.”

Twenty minutes later, the business car arrived at Qujiang Park. Lu Yan lived near the city center, where housing prices were 50,000 per square meter. Although Qujiang Park was a park, the environment was good, and many hillside villas had been built around it, with housing prices hyped up to 150,000 per square meter. From this, it was evident that the boss’s income was quite substantial.

The Detective applied his anti-surveillance talent to ensure no one was following before driving the car to a three-story small house.

A man with a rather heroic appearance opened the door, supporting his huge belly. He held his waist with one hand and rested the other on his enormous stomach. His expression was very ugly, and his tone was sickly: “Is this Doctor Lu? I’m sorry, I was just having morning sickness and wasn’t feeling well. My name is Zhou Qiming.”

After speaking, Zhou Qiming couldn’t help but cover his mouth and dry-heave.

[Tsk, how miserable. An Apocalyptic ranked 100 on the forum, actually made so miserable by a curse-type talent.]

[Zhou Qiming, self-made rich entrepreneur, CEO of a listed gaming company.]

[Spiritual power threshold up to 7,600, a B-rank Apocalyptic registered in the files.]

[Talent: Virtual World. This ability is similar to hypnosis and ranks 39 on the sequence list.]

[Pathomorphosis direction: Virtualization, pixelation.]

Lu Yan looked at the man who was as handsome as a male model in front of him, feeling once again that the circle was very competitive: “He’s the one who said ‘Is there a 1?’ (seeking a gay partner)? He doesn’t look bad; he can’t find a partner?”

[He is a face-con, an extreme face-con. He likes people who look like CG models.]

[By the way, you seem to fit his aesthetic quite well.]

Lu Yan didn’t know whether he should reach out his hand: “Hello, Lu Yan.”

Since the purpose of coming was to treat the illness, the two didn’t exchange much pleasantry. For this treatment, Zhou Qiming had specially prepared an operating room at home. As for Chen Shi’er and the Detective, they had been sent away.

Zhou Qiming, supporting his big belly, slowly sat on the recliner and unbuttoned his shirt: “Shi’er said he already explained it to you on the way, so I won’t say much more. This fetus has been absorbing my energy since the moment it appeared. Only a month has passed, but my spiritual power threshold has already fallen to about 5,500.”

The buttons of the oversized shirt were all undone, revealing the full appearance of his belly.

Lu Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Zhou Qiming’s belly was abnormally swollen; perhaps because it was stretched too thin, the skin had turned a semi-transparent flesh tone, vaguely tinged with gray. Thick blood vessels were bulging, continuously transporting blue-black blood toward the center of the belly to the monster inside.

It was indeed a monster. The fetus in Zhou Qiming’s abdomen already had the shape of a human, dragging a long tail behind its buttocks, curled up in the stomach, with a face like an alien. The eyeballs were bulging, hanging on both sides of its cheeks like goldfish. When it saw Lu Yan, this terrifying human face even smiled at him.

The infant reached out a hand, and the contour of a small palm bulged on Zhou Qiming’s belly.

Lu Yan silently took out the detector he had just received from the Prevention Center. The thing looked very much like a stethoscope. On the instrument, Zhou Qiming’s pathomorphosis level was indeed not high, only 32. But when moved to the fetus in his stomach, the indicator sounded a warning. Contamination value 900, D-rank contaminant.

“When my belly first started growing, I had a C-section once, but the fetus soon grew back,” Zhou Qiming had surgical scars all over his stomach, “I’ve had three surgeries in a month. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control it later. Whenever the contamination value exceeds 1,000, I have someone perform a C-section. But it grows faster and faster. If you can’t solve it, I have no choice but to seek help from the Research Institute.”

Zhou Qiming was very grateful for the contributions the Research Institute had made to humanity’s future, provided that he wasn’t the one being studied. It was said that every unofficial Apocalyptic who sought help from the Research Institute ended up “losing a layer of skin.”

Lu Yan asked the system expressionlessly: “Is this also an illness I can treat?”

[Yes. C-section, then kill the infant, and let the King Fish eat the pathomorphosed placenta—that will do.]

In the month of following Lu Yan, the King Fish had eaten a lot of miscellaneous things, but mostly pollutants. This was the first time it would eat something from a living human body. The system noticed his hesitation and said: [Why would you think it’s normal for a man to grow a placenta? That thing is a contaminant. It’s no different from the Frog Man or the Blood Man you’ve eaten before.]

He was talking to the system in his mind, but to outsiders, it looked like he was examining the patient with a stethoscope, his expression serious.

After a long while, Lu Yan said: “It seems this is treatable. I’ll try.”

Zhou Qiming’s mood, which had hit rock bottom, brightened up upon hearing this, and he sat up from the chair: “Really?”

Following his movement, something dripped down, landing on the back of Lu Yan’s hand. It was a milky white liquid with a hint of a milky scent. A slit opened in the palm of Lu Yan’s left hand; the King Fish seemed curious about this and wanted to reach out its tongue to lick it, but was pressed down onto the table by Lu Yan.

The atmosphere was very awkward. Lu Yan grabbed a tissue, wiped the back of his hand, and couldn’t resist washing it with clean water.

Many of the documents obtained from the Prevention Center were wrong, but one item was true: Lu Yan really did have mysophobia.

Zhou Qiming felt he had never been as desperate in his life as he was today: “Sorry, Doctor. I’m pregnant, and sometimes I can’t control it…”