RHWHEG – Chapter 80 Awakening

A gentle wind brushed over the muddy ground, lifting shards of ice. The blood-soaked hatred of his past life could no longer sway Yu Qunqing’s emotions—when it came to battle, the closer it was, the calmer he became. At last, the system finished digesting the snacks it had consumed during this time. It unfolded from Yu Qunqing’s body, revealing its complete form. Transparent, luminous blue screens curved into rings upon rings of arcs, inlaid with irregular geometric patterns that layered outward, evoking visions of the pinnacle of technology that transcended time and space—yet their sheer unreality lent them a touch of the fantastical.

“Disaster – Parasite Book virus: fully purged. Players may now freely enjoy the green, non-toxic version of the mini-games!”

“The cash-grab system has been upgraded! Loading the Hundred-Billion Whaling Device for the player! Quickly use the invincible art of whaling to delete those humans you don’t like!”

Yu Qunqing told the vice-captain and the others that he wanted to handle this himself, then walked forward. Because the system’s Mountain Road Motorcycle had been extremely useful, Yu Qunqing’s trust in the system had increased a little. He strolled patiently, letting the system continue its chatter.

“The Hundred-Billion Whaling campaign currently has a newbie promotion! No whaling required—28 I-grade Disaster Stone fragments are given directly! Collect 30 fragments to redeem one I-grade Disaster Stone (incubatable)!”

Yu Qunqing perked up with a bit of interest.

“After that, each single whaling purchase exceeding 10 diamonds will grant one F-grade Disaster Stone small fragment. Collect 44 F-grade small fragments to redeem one F-grade medium fragment; collect 33 F-grade medium fragments to redeem one F-grade large fragment; 22 F-grade large fragments to redeem one F-grade fragment crystal; 11 F-grade fragment crystals to redeem one F-grade fragment gemstone; 6 F-grade fragment gemstones to redeem one G-grade Disaster Stone fragment. And so on.

Now, 28 I-grade Disaster Stone fragments have already been delivered to your mailbox. The player only needs 2 more I-grade fragments to redeem one I-grade Disaster Stone (incubatable)! What an incredible deal—please keep it up and whale harder!”

Yu Qunqing: He really shouldn’t have harbored any illusions about this system…

Had all of its upgrade points been dumped into whaling tactics?

“You seem to have evolved quite well,” Jiang Qiwen said. “The name we gave you is Disaster Qunqing. Perhaps your intelligence can understand that.”

Yu Qunqing replied, “You are Jiang Qiwen, from Polar Bear Corporation. You cooperated with the shelters and were responsible for preparing experimental subjects for the ‘Disaster Stone Enrichment’ project. Countless innocent people died at your hands.”

Jiang Qiwen’s wind blades gradually closed in. He didn’t get angry—instead, he laughed. “What are you trying to say? That you’re some righteous soul here for revenge?”

“I just need others to know this,” Yu Qunqing said. “I need people to think my cause is justified. It’s a habit of mine.”

While speaking, Jiang Qiwen rapidly deduced numerous possible movement paths for Yu Qunqing, ensuring the wind blades formed a cage. The power an LV3 could command was truly formidable. A strange exhilaration welled up in him; it felt as though no one under heaven could withstand even a single exchange. He was the omnipotent wind, and Yu Qunqing was merely a disaster—one he had killed countless times before.

Still, Jiang Qiwen retained a sliver of caution. He recalled that inexplicable trait of the residential zone. But no matter how he looked at Yu Qunqing, he didn’t resemble a personified district at all. His vigilance was limited. When people first gained power, they were like players who had just recharged a massive sum—convinced they were invincible. Sonic vibrations. Vacuum compression. High-speed wind blades. He had already been careful enough.

Behind Yu Qunqing, the blue screens seeped into the mud like pigment.

His world turned blue.

In his previous life, there was a reason the shelters went to such great lengths to construct city-level traps to encircle and kill Yu Qunqing. No special-ability action team was capable of taking on that task alone. Only by hiding within human-wave tactics did they glimpse a chance at victory.

As the blue enveloped Jiang Qiwen, Yu Qunqing inevitably recalled the past. In the apocalypse, everyone brushed shoulders with death. Yu Qunqing, an LV5 piled up by the “Disaster Stone Enrichment” project, often played the role of the Grim Reaper.

Bound by the “Principle of Mutual Aid for All Humanity,” the shelter AI administrators could not violate it. Thus, the task of resolving internal unrest within shelters was piled onto Yu Qunqing. When someone transformed into a disaster during leveling, Yu Qunqing cleared the field. When espers rioted due to famine, Yu Qunqing suppressed them. When someone refused to part from parasitized family members, Yu Qunqing delivered the finishing blow. Others’ sharp accusations etched themselves deeply into his mind—

“The number of people you’ve killed is about to exceed the number you’ve saved, isn’t it?”

That was indeed the truth. The techniques for efficiently taking another life had fused into Yu Qunqing’s soul. His movements were practiced, without the slightest excess tremor. His expression was calm, as though he had rehearsed it thousands of times in his mind. He saw Jiang Qiwen’s eyes widen in disbelief. No matter how he thought about it, Jiang Qiwen couldn’t understand how Yu Qunqing had perfectly avoided every zone covered by the wind’s roar. He was the only LV3 here. Suddenly, a bone-chilling possibility occurred to him—Yu Qunqing, the only humanoid disaster present, might have long since surpassed the current classification limits.

Yu Qunqing heard the weaker espers around him let out small-animal-like whimpers of fear. They watched helplessly as the person who represented the shelter’s strongest combat power was struck down like a doll. They seemed to glimpse the vast chasm between themselves and true peak strength. They could never defeat this disaster!

Directly in front of Yu Qunqing, Yu Yanlan’s head felt like it was splitting open, as if a stick were constantly stirring his brain matter. An inexplicable compassion for Jiang Qiwen welled up in him—like a moth to a flame, he wanted to save him. Trembling, he said, “Brother, don’t kill him—”

Yu Qunqing’s movements seemed to pause for a second. Perhaps Yu Yanlan’s plea had worked. Perhaps this “villain” still possessed a faint conscience toward family. Perhaps fate itself decreed that he could not kill Jiang Qiwen.

But in reality, Yu Qunqing let out a soft chuckle instead. In the silent slaughterhouse, that laugh was unbearably piercing, like a long needle stabbing straight through the listener’s heart. In Yu Yanlan’s vision, Yu Qunqing dragged Jiang Qiwen over and said, “Then watch closely.”

A chill seeped into Yu Yanlan’s bones.

“Crack—snap—”

Before everyone’s eyes, Yu Qunqing twisted and snapped Jiang Qiwen’s cervical spine.

In that instant, Yu Yanlan felt his entire body lighten. An equally crisp sound rang out in his head as some transparent connection was finally severed. He couldn’t help but curl up and retch, vomiting some translucent gelatinous substance. A sense of release washed over him; his vision cleared considerably. Many espers around him showed the same reaction.

“Awake now?” Yu Qunqing crouched down, meeting Yu Yanlan’s gaze.

Yu Yanlan nodded frantically, terrified that if he answered even a second too late, he would be next.

“Then he’s useless.” Yu Qunqing stood up and tossed the limp corpse aside. He noticed that many people around had their transparent threads severed as well, leading him to infer that the key to breaking the influence of the Parasite Book was to make them witness a major shock.

Yu Qunqing glanced at Yu Yanlan, clearly seeing the fear on his face. He didn’t know what he felt—yet it also seemed familiar. Yu Yanlan met his eyes, and suddenly a flood of memories surged back. Han Shuzhu had been rambling about strange things all day; his recent behavior had been the result of Han Shuzhu’s brainwashing! If Yu Qunqing hadn’t suddenly appeared at the shelter, he might have slid straight into an abyss. Yu Yanlan’s head began to ache again, this time from sifting useful information out of tangled memories.

Yu Qunqing turned and left. He didn’t assume an attacking stance, yet the onlooking espers surrendered of their own accord. Their arms drooped, and they involuntarily retreated two steps, wanting to flee but unable to move. Yu Qunqing swept his gaze over their faces—some he still remembered by name. Yet whether in his past life or this one, he and they had all entered the same dead end. Yu Qunqing didn’t feel sorrow over it. Some things couldn’t be changed even if you lived again. He had long grown used to that.

Many people avoided him. Only She Lulang walked straight toward him.

“You won,” She Lulang said. His eyes held only Yu Qunqing as he eagerly took Yu Qunqing’s hand. When Yu Qunqing touched the vice-captain’s warm wrist, he realized how cold he himself was.

“Player, a large number of potential whaling sources detected nearby. Strongly recommend using special methods to join the Hundred-Billion Whaling campaign!” The system started chattering again. For once, Yu Qunqing didn’t mute it.

Yu Qunqing felt a profound calm inside, like stagnant water—so still it suffocated him. Gradually, within the environment he was familiar with, he began to sense a hint of warmth. After a while, he joked in his usual manner, “I didn’t expect that without me, the shelter’s strength would be this weak.”

He liked holding the vice-captain’s hand; it made him feel safe. After a moment, Yu Qunqing suddenly couldn’t fully conceal the ruthlessness that followed killing. “Don’t think about leaving.”

“Uh, I mean…” Yu Qunqing lowered his head, realizing he had squeezed the vice-captain’s hand too hard. He hastily made amends, gently giving it a few squeezes instead. He changed his words. “If one day we feel we’re not compatible, that the other person isn’t what we imagined, we can work it out properly. Everything’s negotiable. Don’t make irreversible decisions on impulse… Look at how it ended up with my little brother—that wouldn’t be good…”

He felt a wave of chagrin. Why had he brought this up out of nowhere? If he hadn’t lost control just now, he should have stayed perfectly normal.

She Lulang lifted Yu Qunqing’s chin, raising his head to place a kiss at his lips. Yu Qunqing instinctively turned aside to dodge. She Lulang gazed at him quietly. Yu Qunqing blinked helplessly, hoping some esper would suddenly explode on the spot to save him. But no—under the deterrence of Yu Qunqing’s absolute force, everything was peaceful. Even the espers who had been knocked unconscious and tied up earlier awoke safely.

She Lulang had had enough of this straight man and issued an ultimatum. “I’ll tolerate it one last time.”

Yu Qunqing didn’t understand. “What do you mean, last time?”

She Lulang leaned in and kissed him again—light and quick. Perhaps it couldn’t even be called a kiss, just an innocent act of closeness. But in Yu Qunqing’s mind, it triggered a storm.

Oh! So that’s what it was!

In his blank mind, Yu Qunqing asked the system, “You switched to child mode, didn’t you?”

System: “Huh? What happened? Does the player want to whale?”

Yu Qunqing inexplicably let out a sigh of relief.

“Although I really don’t want to know about the love-hate drama between you two,” Lin Luyi hesitated several times before finally speaking, “could you at least consider the district’s appearance?”

Sun Min and Dong Changxin nodded along.

Li Yuebei and Tang Qianjiang, who had been sightseeing, were nowhere to be found.

Yu Qunqing had completely returned to his old self and said righteously, “What? Never seen people in love before?”

Lin Luyi rolled his eyes at them.

“Really hard to understand,” Dong Changxin said after watching the whole show, half his body leaning against the ammo crate, thoroughly at ease.

“Brother Yu, then why don’t we just take over the shelter and use it as a wedding venue!” Sun Min blurted out astonishingly.

“Yu Qunqing—”

Yu Yanlan suddenly stood up and shouted.

“They all say you’re a host parasitized by a disaster, but you’re actually just the human Yu Qunqing, right—”

Yu Qunqing turned to look at him.

“You’re not a disaster. You have his memories, his habits—you are him. You didn’t die!”

Yu Yanlan clearly remembered that when he had been controlled by some mysterious force to call out “Brother,” Yu Qunqing had unmistakably shown that familiar expression—‘I’m going to puke if I hear this.’

Yu Yanlan had always called him by name. That reaction could only belong to the real Yu Qunqing!

Yet the person with Yu Qunqing’s appearance answered him, “Don’t think too much about it. Just treat him as dead and go back to take good care of your parents.”

“Because I… really am a disaster.”

Yu Yanlan looked at him, dejected and unable to believe it.

Hidden espers quietly measured radiation levels with detectors. Seeing the deep red reading, they believed it even more. A humanoid disaster had descended upon the shelter, sweeping away all obstacles. Humanity was utterly defeated.

Blue streams of data and geometric patterns surged forth again. Yu Qunqing returned to his team and said, “Now that it’s come to this, war with the shelter is unavoidable.”

Sun Min said, “Then should we go back and plan it out carefully?”

“No need for that trouble. The espers here are nothing special. We’ll go straight to the research center and wipe them all out in one go—then we can even have a decent dinner,” Yu Qunqing said, calmly and accurately assessing their situation. Han Shuzhu should be at the research center. Taking him out would resolve one of Yu Qunqing’s major knots.

“And where did Li Yuebei and Tang Qianjiang go?” Yu Qunqing asked.