Chapter 151: Feeding Rongrong
Everyone maintained their feigned sleeping postures, their breathing slow and even.
The time it took for an incense stick to burn crept by. Then, a faint scuffing of footsteps echoed from the hallway.
The aged figure appeared once more.
This time, she wore a simple cloth mask that covered her nose and mouth, revealing only a pair of cloudy, tired eyes. She first scanned the room, her gaze lingering on each of the "sleeping" guests, before lighting another pale yellow candle. This one was similar to the others but several sizes larger, and its placement made the cloying herbal scent in the room grow even stronger.
After a moment, seemingly convinced that everyone was in a deep slumber, the old grandmother shuffled slowly toward Xia Ye, who lay closest to her. With a soft grunt of effort, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and began to laboriously drag him, one shuffling step at a time, back toward the hallway.
The instant the old woman's silhouette vanished from the doorway, Haruto's eyes snapped open. He lifted a hand, making a quick, silent gesture.
The team understood immediately. Without a sound, they rose to their feet and followed.
At the end of the hallway was a heavy iron door. The grandmother had dragged Xia Ye through it, but in her haste, she hadn't locked it behind her. The group paused, listening for a moment, before slipping inside.
They passed through a thick, grimy plastic curtain, and a foul stench immediately assaulted their senses. It was the cloying, sweet smell of decay, an odor that, despite a clear attempt to scrub the room clean, was instantly recognizable to anyone who had survived the Death Games for long. It was the unmistakable smell of rotting corpses.
This was a hidden chamber.
The reinforced concrete walls were lined with shelves cluttered with jars and bottles of all sizes. But the most hair-raising sight was at the far end of the room—a figure, confined to a stone platform. To call it human would have been a generous stretch; it looked far more like a monster.
One could vaguely identify it as a Ghost Insect, yet it retained just enough human features to be deeply unsettling. Its torso had been deliberately modified, twisted into the rough shape of a person's, but the traces of mutation were obvious. The bones in its back bulged high against the skin, looking as if they might tear through the flesh at any moment.
Its limbs were bound tightly by thick iron chains, and its head was encased in a sealed metal device. Sensing movement, the creature began to struggle against its restraints, a low, guttural murmur escaping its throat.
"Hungry... so hungry..."
"Don't you worry now, don't you worry. Grandma will fix you something right now."
The old woman unceremoniously dumped the still-feigning Xia Ye into a corner. She then walked to a large, industrial-style refrigerator and, with a great deal of effort, hauled out her "food"—which was, shockingly, half of a frozen human corpse.
She set up a large iron pot, lit a fire beneath it, and began to hack at the frozen block of flesh, tossing the grisly chunks into the boiling water.
Despite being mentally prepared for the worst, the sight of it confirmed with their own eyes sent a jolt through the onlookers. If they had been ordinary, defenseless players, their fate after eating those drugged snacks was now horrifyingly clear: to be butchered and served as food for this monster.
The monsters of the apocalypse were terrifying, to be sure. But far more chilling were some of the people who survived it. One could guard against a monster, for it rarely hid its nature. But people... people knew how to disguise themselves. To survive, or to achieve some twisted goal, they would stop at nothing.
"Food... want to eat... eat people..." the Ghost Insect hissed, its voice a dry rasp.
The old woman quickened her pace, mashing the cooked meat into a thick, pulpy batter. She scooped the grotesque paste into a long-trough-like container and used a pole to push it within reach of the creature on the platform.
Then, she took a small button from her sleeve and pressed it. With a soft click, the mask encasing the Ghost Insect's head split open.
"Food! Ahhh—it's food!"
"Alright, alright, don't be in such a hurry. You're still as reckless as you used to be, little girl."
Watching her "granddaughter" wolf down the meal, the kindness on the old woman's face deepened. It was the exact same gentle, friendly expression she had shown them earlier, a realization that was truly bone-chilling.
"Not enough... still not enough! Rongrong wants more!"
Even though its belly was already swollen and distended like a balloon, the Ghost Insect was still crying out in hunger. It was different from the others they had encountered; this one seemed to possess a sliver of reason.
"Be good."
The old woman instinctively raised a hand as if to pat its head, but then let it fall slowly to her side. Her voice was filled with a doting gentleness.
"Rongrong, let's be obedient now. You can't eat anymore. If you eat more, your intestines will burst again. Your father has gone out, and I don't know when he'll be back... If your belly breaks open again, Grandma won't be able to sew it back up like he does."
"No... no..."
The body on the stone platform began to writhe uneasily, the iron chains scraping against the stone with a piercing shriek.
"Rongrong wants to eat... so, so hungry... Rongrong wants to eat Grandma... Can Grandma hug Rongrong?"
The old woman sat down on a low wooden stool and slowly shook her head.
"Grandma is old. I don't have as much strength as your father. If your father hadn't put that thing in your head... Grandma might still be able to hug you. But don't you blame him, he just..."
She rambled on, her words disjointed, sounding for all the world like any ordinary grandmother lost in her memories. Only in these brief moments, just after her granddaughter had eaten, could she enjoy this fleeting, fragile peace.
After a moment, she seemed to remember her other task. She stopped talking, stood up, and walked toward Xia Ye in the corner.
"This is the one Grandma specially picked for you. Among all these people, he looks the most delicious. In a bit, Grandma will freeze a few more pieces, and the rest... I must send them away while they're still asleep."
She whispered to herself, her tone a strange mix of explanation and repentance.
"Just enough to eat is fine, just enough... They're all good children; they shouldn't all be lost here because of our selfishness..."
As she spoke, she picked up a heavy wood-splitting axe from beside the wall.
Xia Ye remained utterly motionless, his breathing deep and even, as if he were truly unconscious. This complete trust in his companions filled the observing group with a sense of admiration. If it were them in his place, even with absolute faith in their teammates, they could never have achieved such a steady rhythm of breath, such a total absence of fear.
Among the group, only Lin Xuelao's expression shifted. A subtle understanding flickered in her eyes. Just as she was about to explain something, the old woman seemed to sense a change in the air. She turned sharply toward the door, a helpless, bitter smile forming on her face.
"I knew it... you children are just too clever."
As she spoke, she reached up and took down a crude, pipe-like shotgun from the wall, gripping it tightly in her trembling hands.
Seeing that they were exposed, the group stopped hiding and stepped out from behind the plastic curtain.
"Old Grandmother," Haruto began, his voice calm. He didn't accuse her or make any aggressive moves. He simply asked, "Do you think what you're doing is right?"
The old woman was stunned. A flash of raw pain crossed her clouded eyes, and her grip on the shotgun tightened.
"You've all seen it... Rongrong is my granddaughter. Before the apocalypse, she was such a lovely, sweet child..." Her voice choked, thick with unshed tears. "Now that she's become like this... I—I know it's wrong, but I... I can't bring myself to give up on her. To give up on my own granddaughter. Just three years ago, she was still following me around, calling me 'Grandma' over and over again."
"But this monster is no longer your granddaughter," Haruto stated, his tone gentle but firm. He could see it clearly—at this point, the creature was less a person and more a monster that had stolen a few fragments of human memory and a tiny sliver of humanity. "Instead of letting her linger in this world in such a form, it would be better to let her rest in peace. To find release."
"...It's not like that."
The old woman shook her head stubbornly. With one hand still clutching the shotgun, she slowly backed toward the wall and pulled down a large, rusty lever.
"The passage behind the house has been opened. Take your friend and leave. Don't come back..."
SNAP!
It was the sound of a chain breaking.
The group whipped their heads around. The chain on the Ghost Insect's right arm had been forcibly snapped. The already abnormal limb was now swelling and mutating at a visible rate, bone spurs protruding hideously beneath the skin.
"Oh no!"
The old woman's face went pale with terror. She dropped the shotgun and rushed toward the stone platform. "Rongrong, don't move! The chains can't break!"
But it was too late.
The moment the old woman drew near, the chain on Rongrong's left arm also shattered with a deafening crack.
By now, the creature had completely lost its human form. Two more arms and two more legs sprouted from its torso, making it look like a grotesque hybrid of a spider and a tortoise. With a shriek, it lunged from the platform and pounced on the old woman.
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