Song Bin's teeth were chattering as he watched Jing Shu unzip the sealed body bag. The old man, with years of experience, quickly covered his nose.
Immediately, a stench like nothing he'd ever smelled filled the air. Song Bin almost vomited up his leftover meal, while Jing Shu just frowned, held her breath, and stayed completely composed.
The old man chuckled, "See, it's still fresh. No decay yet, the bugs haven't burst out. Otherwise… tsk tsk, that scene would make your scalp crawl."
Song Bin's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed. Four years into the apocalypse, he'd only ever worked in greenhouses. He'd never seen anything like this.
The corpse's face was twisted, pale with a bluish tint, hair standing on end, body stiff, the belly a bit swollen. To the naked eye, it almost looked like a normal death.
Jing Shu started with the head, pressing her gloved fingers against the eyes, ears, and nose. Everything seemed normal.
No livor mortis, no greenish discoloration, no bloating. After ten years of collecting corpses for points, Jing Shu had plenty of experience judging time of death. The old man was right: death had occurred within six hours.
She continued the examination meticulously, leaving no detail unchecked. The corpse was stiff on the outside but soft inside. This texture was familiar to her—like a steak pierced with countless needles before cooking to make it tender. The flesh felt loose, almost like a sieve.
And that smell… it wasn't normal corpse stench. At this early stage, it shouldn't be. It was the smell of parasites.
Jing Shu frowned and continued.
She pressed a finger on the belly, and the skin instantly sank, rippling outward like water waves. Then a terrifying scene unfolded!
The corpse's stomach began to writhe violently, rippling across the body. Under the skin, countless long, thin shapes writhed. Some even bumped into each other, forming small bulges.
Soon the belly deflated, the body puffed up, and the movement was relentless. Some areas nearly burst. In the flickering firelight, the shapes of the bugs were clearly visible.
Some had been pushed to the edges and started slipping out from the eyes, nose, and ears, yet they still tried to crawl back into the host.
"These… these are all parasites? Will they come out? Will they jump on me?" Song Bin stammered, backing away. This was nothing like he'd imagined. "My God," he thought, "is this corpse even human anymore, or is it all bugs?"
Being parasitized was terrifying! If he got infected… no, just the thought made him sick.
Even the unflappable Jing Shu showed a flicker of reaction. Not because the bugs were disgusting—she'd survived by eating red nematodes before—but she hadn't realized the original parasite outbreak had been this brutal. Far worse than she'd imagined. Perhaps it was karma; humans barely survived by eating red nematodes, only for the parasites to evolve and feast again.
The old man tucked away his cigarette and looked at Song Bin with disdain. "You inexperienced people don't need to worry. Parasites don't leave their host on their own. Even if one entered your body, you've never eaten red nematodes, so they can't reproduce inside you."
Song Bin finally exhaled slowly. "So they're not that big a deal, huh?"
Jing Shu glared at him. "In these few years of the apocalypse, very few haven't eaten red nematodes. Think about all the people who have. If infection spreads…"
The consequences would be unimaginable.
Soon, the parasites spread from the host's orifices, yet each kept one end anchored inside, the other exploring the air.
They were long, much longer than ordinary red nematodes. Mutated parasites could reach 30 to 40 centimeters, half their bodies hovering in the air, soon probing beyond the bag.
"They… they're coming out!"
Jing Shu raised an eyebrow and grabbed a handful of the parasites. Song Bin's jaw dropped as she started pulling them out.
"W-what are you doing?!" he stammered.
The parasites clung to the corpse, refusing to leave, squealing sharply like a taut wire.
Jing Shu frowned and pulled harder. With a snap, the parasite broke in two.
The rest retreated back into the corpse, including the snapped part. The ones in her hands shriveled rapidly, curling like balls of wool.
Like red nematodes preserved in salt, they were completely dead.
The corpse returned to normal, though the skin remained swollen from the parasites fighting beneath. It all looked as if nothing had happened.
"See? They don't leave their host on their own. They're more mutated now, but they have less space to survive. They can only live on a host. That's good news."
Jing Shu tossed the shriveled parasite corpses aside. Song Bin collapsed to the ground, muttering. Even the old man gasped—he'd never seen someone so stubborn.
No matter how she pressed, the parasites stayed curled up inside, the skin nearly bursting. The corpse seemed to swell in a short time, the bugs crowding together under the firelight as if about to explode.
The old man, trembling, pointed at the corpse. "Quick, quick, throw it in the fire! Every time it gets to this stage, it's about to burst. This… this is the final stage!"
Jing Shu shook her head, drawing a knife. In the old man's wide-eyed horror, she slashed the corpse. Without the corpse exploding, the parasites trapped under the skin finally burst out like a flood.
In the air, they panicked like vampires seeing daylight, scattering while ending their own lives.
Amazingly, the largest and longest parasites died first, transferring all nutrition and hope to the larvae.
Then countless tiny larvae sprang from the corpse.
"Quick, quick, throw it in the fire! These bugs will fly everywhere!"
The larvae scattered like rain, hopping and searching for new hosts.