RHWHEG – Chapter 26 No Money

By nighttime, Experimental Subject No. 059 was the first to wake up. His mutation wasn’t severe. His ability was that “his blood could increase the hardness of objects, but at the same time, make them more brittle.” He had been captured purely out of bad luck. He didn’t know anything about foundations, polar bear organizations, or whatever. To him, they were just shady groups. Like ordinary civilians, he put all his trust in official shelters. As for the current situation, all he knew was that he’d been locked up for experiments—he didn’t understand anything else.

“I—I was rescued?” He sat up, dripping wet. “Or… did I reincarnate?”

The electric-free glowing lamps and the futuristic recovery pod before his eyes didn’t look like anything from the post-apocalypse. Could he be a so-called Chosen One?

“Unfortunately, it’s still November of the First Year of Calamity,” Zhang Sanxi mercilessly shattered his fantasy. “Congratulations—you’ll have to continue enduring the pain of being alive.”

“Being alive is good enough!” 059 looked overjoyed—until his gaze fell on the next bed, where Subject No. 060 lay: a gravely injured two-tailed mermaid. At once, his soul nearly flew out of his body.

“M-m-monster!”

Yu Qunqing: “Keep your voice down.”

She Lulang cast him a cold glance.

Even the most dull-witted had a survival instinct. 059 quickly quieted down and timidly begged Zhang Sanxi not to leave him. Out of nowhere, Sun Min appeared and loudly whispered—clear enough for everyone to hear—whether they should “just get rid of him.” Yu Qunqing told him to shut up and do his homework.

059 was the typical small-minded citizen of the apocalypse: fearful, chatty, and clinging to all the stereotypes he had brought out of the shelters. He shunned non-human ability users, believed powers increased radiation, and trusted only official shelters…

Yu Qunqing responded: “No one’s stopping you if you want to leave, but—you’re in debt.”

He pointed outside to one of the shelter’s ability users.

The ability user said, “That’s right. You owe me calamity stones.”

059 had nothing to his name. Yu Qunqing told the ability users to help cover his debt—he’d earn the right to remove his inhibitor collar that way. After all, Yu Qunqing was the boss, and what he said went.

059 shrank his neck. “Sorry… I don’t have anything right now.”

Ability user: “That’s why we’re planning to go out and look for calamity stones.”

“Calamity stones are so important, how can you waste them like that?” 059 still thought this was another shelter. Calamity stones could be used to farm, to sharpen weapons, as currency, to strengthen abilities. If he had them, he wouldn’t part with a single one.

“You don’t get it.” The ability user, having spent the whole afternoon learning the rules here, patiently explained. “Here you get to live in safe housing, eat unlimited bread, even drink milk tea! You only need to save a portion of rare calamity stones for sharpening or upgrades.”

“If you don’t want to upgrade or fight calamities, then keep fewer. You can also find jewelry—it can be traded for building materials,” the ability user said. “There are far more ways to survive than you think.”

Convinced, 059 decided to go search for jewelry to repay his debt. When he heard he’d be teamed with non-human ability users, he grumbled a bit but quickly accepted.

Some barriers only take a single conversation to dissolve.

On the second floor gathered all sorts: wanderers who’d never been to official shelters, loyal shelter believers, former shelter staff, ex-Foundation non-human ability users… As they exchanged words, they slowly forgot their original identities, as if no distinctions should have existed. They were all humans holding different hopes in the apocalypse, passengers in the same night boat. Though strangers, even in conflict, they were ultimately heading toward the same fate.

The next to awaken was that two-tailed mermaid, No. 060. Her cheeks were covered in scales, opening and closing as if breathing. Most unsettling were the two abrupt tails below her—neither dreamy nor cool, but disturbingly unnatural.

She awoke burning with anger, only to stare dumbfounded at the fish-man. The fish-man, seeing she too was a “fish,” kindly offered to help register her. She scoffed, saying they weren’t the same. Without water, she couldn’t move—otherwise, why would her companions have abandoned her? She could only accept her fate. At least in the lab, she wouldn’t burden her family.

“My ability? Just these useless two tails—they don’t even make me swim faster!” 060 pounded the pod wall in frustration.

The fish-man comforted her: “Do you have any other skills? Maybe you’ll find new work here.”

“I used to work at a chain coffee shop. My biggest dream was to become a senior barista. But what’s the use? Would that café you mentioned ever hire me?”

The fish-man said, “Why not go plead with Crocodile Lord? You both have ‘fish’ in your names.”

Yu Qunqing watched with complicated feelings. If his café hired staff, its business could expand—which would benefit him. The problem was 060’s identity.

In the last life, 060 had become a shelter lackey early, desperate to escape hardship. Her true ability was “Sinister Totem.” The two-tailed mermaid was a Western mythical creature symbolizing misfortune. Anyone who saw her tails felt dizzy and nauseous. By level 3, she was almost Medusa-like. But she had mutated into a heart-failure giant mermaid and died before reaching level 4, never crossing paths with Yu Qunqing’s group.

The moment Yu Qunqing realized this was her, he felt a headache coming. No one had known “Sinister Totem” was actually Subject 060. Before that, she’d been someone left behind due to mobility issues, and before the apocalypse, just another wage worker.

Still, he remembered that in reality, the chain café’s logo was indeed a two-tailed mermaid. Hiring her as staff and mascot seemed… perfectly fitting.

More experimental subjects gradually woke.

Inside 061’s pod, a bulge swelled on a vine, forming a beating heart. Thin hard stalks became veins, wrapped with meaty vine-flesh patterned after human muscle. The plant exuded black sap, coating 061’s body until it reabsorbed everything. Finally, a complete human form appeared inside the pod.

Lin Luyi flipped the lid open, and the first thing he did was vomit a stream of flowers and grass.

“Ugh—bleh—who shocked me? Who?!” Lin Luyi rasped weakly, vomiting between each word.

A medic came over to check. “Looks like post-concussion symptoms.”

Could it be that when Yu Qunqing stuffed the plant into the pod earlier, he’d accidentally knocked his head? Yu Qunqing suddenly felt guilty.

“I know—it was you! And you!” Lin Luyi raised his head, glaring at the two sitting by his pod.

Yu Qunqing: “You look lively enough.” He poked Lin Luyi’s forehead mercilessly. “I think you’re full of potential. Want to join my action squad?”

“Ugh—bleh—no way—bleh—I won’t forgive you—”

“So that’s a yes?” Yu Qunqing deliberately teased, though he was carefully observing Lin Luyi’s condition. Pupils intact, plant-mutation signs fading—seemed like his future teammate was recovering well.

“Rest up,” Yu Qunqing said. “I’ll come back tomorrow. Don’t run off.”

Lin Luyi slumped against the medical pod, weak and dizzy.

Yu Qunqing and She Lulang left the therapy room.

It was late night, and the second floor was quiet. Yu Qunqing asked She Lulang where he would sleep. Rarely, She Lulang didn’t answer right away.

Maybe it was the sincere look in Yu Qunqing’s eyes. She Lulang rubbed his nose and admitted, “I always travel light when going out.”

So—his vice-captain had no money. And here, every house required building materials to unlock. Despite his strength, She Lulang had no spare calamity stones to trade for materials. If Yu Qunqing hadn’t asked, he might have just made do and slept on the rooftop.

Yu Qunqing almost offered his neighbor’s house to She Lulang—then remembered he had already spent all his building materials upgrading the café earlier. He froze mid-sentence.

This whole residential block was truly magical: from its number one resident to every new tenant—each one screamed “broke.”

His act of being a rich guy had failed, but in its place grew a much bolder idea.

He recalled how, back in the shelter, conditions weren’t great. Two people in a tiny room, a narrow, short cot where even one person could barely stretch out—let alone two. Well, they had studied which sleep positions could squeeze two adults into one bed… At the time, he had dreamed of having his own room.

But now…

Sharing a roof again with She Lulang—wasn’t impossible.

Two men—how many thoughts could there really be?

Yu Qunqing rubbed his nose and asked casually, “My place is pretty spacious. Want to stay with me?”

She Lulang’s body stiffened, his mind instantly flooded with a thousand wild bullet comments.

Why was Yu Qunqing so proactive this life?!

Was it because the way they met had changed? In the last life, though they had fought too, She Lulang’s attitude had been terrible—sarcastic, always mocking Yu Qunqing.

But this time, he felt more peaceful. Aside from one fight at the beginning, they hadn’t clashed again.

Was that why Yu Qunqing had changed so much?

If only, in the last life, they too could have had such a peaceful start… Then they might have had more time to talk, to get to know each other…

A faint ache spread in She Lulang’s heart, though his tone stayed proper. He gave a slight nod. “I’ll trouble you, then.”

Yu Qunqing was surprised he had agreed so straightforwardly.

Maybe this was just the slightly silly, pure-hearted nature of his vice-captain.

His directness stirred a ripple in Yu Qunqing’s heart, but he ignored the odd feeling and led She Lulang home.

She Lulang felt the key pressing against his chest, burning hot. But he couldn’t tell if it was the key—or his own heart—that burned hotter.