Chapter 322

Chapter 322: End-of-Life Care

Zheng Gaoya felt his vision gradually blur, as everything seemed to oscillate constantly between reality and illusion.

The reality of this moment would dissolve like bubbles in the next instant, and after fading, some previous shadows would slowly solidify once more.

Only the outsider before him felt undeniably real from any perspective, like a wedge anchoring between reality and illusion.

He sighed slowly, as if finally gaining clarity about his current predicament.

“Take us back, take us back…”

He savored these words, as if trying to extract a myriad of meanings from them.

After a long while, he looked at Lin Qingliu, a faint glimmer of light gathering in his clouded eyes:

“Are we already beyond saving?”

Lin Qingliu paused for a moment before answering truthfully:

“You have been deeply parasitized by the mycelium outside the city; it sustains your life while manipulating you.

“I can free you from this state, but the cost will be your life.”

“I see.”

Zheng Gaoya’s tone suddenly grew tinged with excitement, as if he had finally unraveled the answer to a long-standing riddle.

“With every step forward, I feel a strange sense of déjà vu, as if I’ve already walked this path In Dream.

“Every action, every mark, every day’s adventure feels like something I’ve experienced countless times before.

“I can see the exhaustion in everyone’s eyes, yet I’ve refused to accept the truth. Perhaps my thinking ability has long been stripped away…

“Now that it has come to this, I leave it to you.

“There’s no need for anything else; just bring back our nameplates.

“I seem to have lost all sense of clarity, but I hope the nameplates are still on us. If not, so be it; no need to trouble yourself further.”

As the illusions and filters dissipated, Zheng Gaoya began to feel the true sensations of his body.

The nerves that had already died no longer relayed any signals; he started to sense the growing weakness and stiffness in his limbs, as if he were rapidly turning into a corpse.

Lin Qingliu gently pressed his fingers to Zheng Gaoya’s forehead, accelerating the decay of the mycelium within him while easing what little pain remained.

“Will you tell them the truth?”

Zheng Gaoya suddenly asked.

Lin Qingliu nodded firmly:

“Yes, everyone has the right to know the truth. I will ensure proper end-of-life care for each of them.”

His head drooped weakly, like a heavy fruit hanging from a slender branch, but he still managed to nod twice with effort:

“That’s good.

“Can you let me see… see what I’ve become?”

Lin Qingliu did not respond, though a flicker of inner conflict crossed his mind.

He let out a nearly imperceptible sigh and reached out to gently wipe over Zheng Gaoya’s eyes.

The milky-white fungal membrane rapidly withered and crumbled into ash, while the once-dispersed pupils regained their focus.

Zheng Gaoya glanced around at the nonexistent campfire, the tattered and battered team members, the vanished tools and food, the deep wounds on his arms that exposed bone, and the only constant presence—Lin Qingliu.

At this moment, only reality remained.

“Ah, ah.”

A decayed voice uttered the final two syllables, and the last glimmer of life in his eyes faded as his head slumped, never to rise again.

In the heavy silence, Lin Qingliu laid him beside a sleeping bag, removed the identity nameplate from his body, and tucked it into his pocket before moving on to the next superpowered individual.

End-of-life care was indeed a task that could easily weigh on the soul. After all, Dr. Lin was not made of stone; after tending to several individuals, even he felt a pang of sorrow.

Upon uncovering the truth of the world and the lies that had blinded them, everyone reacted differently.

Some, like Zheng Gaoya, accepted it with quiet resignation, while others, like “Ray” and “Gangfeng,” struggled to come to terms with it. Then there were newcomers like “Source,” who had never faced the true trials of life and death and completely broke down emotionally.

Though their muscles and tendons had rotted, and their tear glands had long since failed, they still left their final marks on this world in their own ways.

Whether through resistance or collapse, Lin Qingliu, in his role of end-of-life care, offered an almost boundless patience, helping each of them remember their humanity.

Lin Qingliu imposed no moral judgment; if they chose to continue existing in this state, he would neither be disappointed nor resort to becoming an assassin.

The final outcome was no surprise to him—all the superpowered individuals chose to depart with dignity.

As dawn approached, he held four nameplates in his hands.

The bodies of the four had swiftly crumbled into ash under his care. Rather than let them decay slowly in the desolate forest, Lin Qingliu preferred to erase the traces of their existence himself.

Before him now lay the shorter woman known as “Extractor,” resting in the innermost spot.

Lin Qingliu approached quietly and leaned over to observe the superpowered individual still deep in sleep.

In the next moment, Extractor’s eyes snapped open, her murky pupils betraying no trace of fatigue.

“Who… are you?”

Lin Qingliu showed no surprise and had no interest in answering. Instead, he silently retrieved the nameplate belonging to the superpowered individual Extractor, as well as the nameplate of Zhang Tong, which hung from her clothing and might be lost in the next cycle.

“Don’t move. I need to take these.”

His tone was commanding, laced with an icy finality. He locked eyes with Extractor, and the patience and gentleness he had shown earlier were gone, replaced by unmistakable killing intent.

Extractor’s eyes began to shift, the milky-white translucent fungal membrane rapidly spreading until it completely obscured her original pupils.

From the countless scars on her body, mycelium sprouted, weaving through the damaged flesh as if something sought to be reborn through this vessel.

Copying Dummies and seizing bodies—Lin Qingliu was no stranger to the will of the mycelium’s tricks. He placed his hand firmly on the head of the human body, initiating its decay without hesitation.

The mycelium’s power within a human body was limited; its growth could not keep pace with the rate at which the life force was drained.

Soon, as the desiccated humanoid figure crumbled into dust, the superpowered individual known as “Extractor” found her final peace.

“You… are… angry.”

The words were formed by the sounds of wind, insect chirps, and rustling leaves, echoing from every direction, making their source impossible to pinpoint.

“Why?”

Lin Qingliu’s expression remained cold, offering no reply.

The rustling of countless insects grew louder. Lin Qingliu hovered in the air, keeping the sticky substances at bay.

Amid the cacophony of the swarm’s crawling and squirming, Lin Qingliu slowly turned.

A humanoid figure, composed of living insects and mycelium, stood two meters before him.

This humanoid figure bore no facial features—or rather, it lacked a face entirely.

A seam split open where its mouth should have been, and from it emerged a chorus of insect noises, blending into human speech:

“Long time… no see.”