The coworker’s already pale skin seemed to go a shade whiter. Under Song Nanxing’s gaze, a chill crept up his elongated neck, and he hurriedly retracted it, crawling out from under the desk. Looking guilty, he hunched over and stared at his monitor, pretending nothing had happened.
But there was no way Song Nanxing was letting such a good opportunity slip by.
The guy was clearly acting suspicious. Wu Huai’s workstation was spotless—there was a good chance this guy had taken whatever was missing.
Song Nanxing strode over to his desk, planting both hands on the back of his chair. He leaned in and said, ever so kindly, “Don’t think I’m bluffing just to scare you. I live in 401, and Sales King Wu lives right downstairs in 301. I even ran into him this morning on my way to work. He’s already dealt with his personal matters and might be back any day now. So if he finds something missing and comes to ask me about it, I’ll have no choice but to tell him… everything.”
He brought his five fingers together and made a slicing motion at the coworker’s neck, grinning cheerfully.
“You know, Sales King Wu loves spicy duck necks. He even treated me once. Lots of Sichuan peppercorns and dried chili in the brine, the whole place smelled incredible. When it’s done, you fish one out and slice it up—perfect ratio of meat to bone, numbing and spicy, makes you want to keep eating…”
He swallowed slightly and continued, “And with a neck your length, you could make enough duck neck to last ages.”
The sound of him swallowing echoed in the air, and the coworker—his bloated, pale face twitching—looked utterly terrified. His beady little eyes darted around in panic. Trembling, he reached into the drawer on his right and pulled out a plastic bag, thrusting it toward Song Nanxing as he stammered, “I-I-I just thought… he’s been gone so long… the stuff was just sitting there…”
Song Nanxing took the bag and peeked inside. The moment he spotted the notebook, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. His tone turned even friendlier.
“No need to be scared, I was just joking earlier. We’re all colleagues here. If Sales King Wu wanted duck neck, he’d go buy some at a shop—he wouldn’t use you.”
Hearing him say “duck neck” again made the guy tremble even more violently, like a frightened quail ready to bolt.
Song Nanxing glanced at his cowering figure, looking like he wanted to bury himself under the desk. He couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of person Wu Huai was to leave his coworkers this spooked.
Seeing that the man clearly had no intention of continuing the conversation, Song Nanxing had no choice but to return to his own desk with the plastic bag in hand.
He’d just sat down and was about to check the contents of the notebook when Cheng Jianning appeared and gave him a tap.
Song Nanxing closed the notebook casually and asked, “What’s up?”
Cheng Jianning motioned toward the reception room and whispered, “There’s a guest. The front desk asked me to help with reception. Since you’ve been so curious, want to come see for yourself?”
Hearing that, Song Nanxing immediately shoved the notebook and the plastic bag into his backpack. “Sure! Should I prepare anything?”
Cheng Jianning took two neatly folded white lab coats from the drawer, tossed one to Song Nanxing, and put the other one on himself. “Put this on, and don’t forget your employee badge.”
After that, he pulled out a small mirror and carefully adjusted his hair and appearance. Once he was satisfied with his professional and approachable look, he turned to Song Nanxing and said, “Our company may specialize in psychological counseling, but psychologists are still doctors. We have to present the same level of professionalism as in the medical field to make clients feel safe and reassured.”
He had delicate, refined features, and the loose white lab coat concealed the strange data wires wrapped around his body. At a glance, he actually looked a bit solemn and dignified.
Song Nanxing draped the white coat over himself and said, “But we’re just salespeople, not doctors.”
Cheng Jianning gave him a look that said you hopeless child, then wagged his finger. “You must never present yourself as a salesperson in front of a client. A salesperson pushes products, but we are doctor’s assistants. We help with the initial diagnosis and offer guidance to the clients. Got it?”
Song Nanxing: “…”
You guys really are born to scam.
He nodded obediently. “Got it, Assistant Cheng.”
Cheng Jianning gave a satisfied smile and led him toward the consultation room.
Before they entered, he straightened his face and solemnly reminded Song Nanxing, “Just watch and follow my lead. If the client has an unexpected reaction, don’t panic, and definitely don’t show any unusual expressions that might upset them. Understood?”
When Song Nanxing gave a serious nod, he finally pushed open the door.
The consultation room was European in style, lavish and comfortable in its furnishings. The client they were here to meet was seated in an armchair by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The chair was angled slightly away from them, so Song Nanxing could only see the side profile of a man wearing a long down coat.
Upon hearing the door open, the man stood up but remained hunched over as if his back couldn’t straighten, greeting them with a bowed posture: “Doctor.”
Cheng Jianning smiled and shook his hand, speaking in a warm, gentle tone as he motioned for him to sit: “I’m Assistant Cheng Jianning, working under Dr. Zhao. May I have your name, sir?”
“My surname is Li. Li Shuangren,” the man said, his body hunched and arms crossed tightly over his chest as if he were freezing.
“Dr. Zhao is currently busy, so I’ll be conducting a preliminary evaluation and diagnosis of your condition. Once we’ve fully assessed the situation, Dr. Zhao will come to discuss a treatment plan with you. In the meantime, if you have any needs, please don’t hesitate to let us know—we’ll do our best to accommodate.”
Facing the client, Cheng Jianning came across as extremely professional and affable. His smile was warm as he gently guided the man to open up about his issues and needs.
Song Nanxing sat beside him, notebook in hand, pretending to take notes while secretly observing Li Shuangren across from him.
It was early April, and though Tongcheng, a central city, wasn’t exactly warm yet, it certainly wasn’t cold enough to warrant a down jacket. But the man was wrapped up tightly in one—long, heavy, the zipper pulled all the way to the top, with a thick hat on his head, practically airtight.
Was he just afraid of the cold?
But something felt off. A closer look revealed that the brim of his hat was damp with sweat, and his face was flushed with a heat-induced redness.
Under Cheng Jianning’s patient and gentle guidance, Li Shuangren gradually opened up.
“I came here on a friend’s recommendation. I heard you offer, um, removal procedures, so… I wanted to ask…”
At the mention of “removal procedures,” Cheng Jianning’s expression grew more serious.
“All of our doctors are certified psychological professionals with valid licenses,” he said with measured calm. “But the kind of removal procedure you’re referring to… we don’t offer surgical services here. If surgery is what you need, I suggest going to a public hospital.”
“But my friend said you could do it. He got it done here—”
Li Shuangren’s tone became agitated. He suddenly straightened up, and something under his down jacket squirmed.
Song Nanxing subtly glanced up and saw a thin arm struggling to emerge from the collar of Li Shuangren’s jacket. The arm was unnaturally slender—no more than a quarter, maybe a fifth the thickness of a normal human limb. The skin was lead-gray, the joints long and gangly, with claw-like fingernails at the tips.
The arm was pushing its way out with all its might but got stuck at the collar.
Li Shuangren noticed Song Nanxing’s gaze, glanced down, and hurriedly stuffed the limb back into his coat. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, pressing down as if restraining something beneath, and his briefly straightened back hunched over once more.
Cheng Jianning looked troubled. “Technically… this would be against regulations. But if you’re absolutely certain, I can speak to Dr. Zhao on your behalf.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m asking for it!” Li Shuangren replied urgently.
“Alright then. Please wait here. If you need anything, feel free to let my colleague know. I’ll go inform Dr. Zhao about your situation.”
Cheng Jianning stood and gave Song Nanxing’s shoulder a reassuring pat, signaling him to stay and keep the client company, then left to find the doctor.
Song Nanxing sat quietly with the notebook, glancing occasionally at Li Shuangren.
The man looked incredibly uneasy. His arms were clamped tightly around his chest, visibly trembling now. Sweat streamed down his face, dripping off his chin.
Recalling Cheng Jianning’s instructions, Song Nanxing leaned forward slightly and offered a polite inquiry.
“Mr. Li, are you alright?”
As soon as Song Nanxing noticed him looking his way, Li Shuangren became even more flustered. He stammered out a refusal, “N-no, it’s fine. I-I’m just a little hot, I’ll go get myself some water.”
As he spoke, he slid off the sofa chair, lowering his body and crawling toward the refreshment table on all fours.
Song Nanxing’s eye twitched at the sight. Letting a client crawl around like this in the reception room was obviously not ideal. He quickly stepped over and helped the man up. “Mr. Li, why don’t I get you some water instead? You don’t seem to be feeling well. Come, let me help you sit down and rest.”
Li Shuangren also seemed to realize how inappropriate his behavior had been. His limbs trembled like someone with Parkinson’s, and had it not been for Song Nanxing’s support, he probably would’ve collapsed on the floor.
“D-Doctor Zhao… when will he be here?” he muttered incoherently. “I want to have the surgery as soon as possible.”
Song Nanxing could already guess the reason for the urgency. As mental contamination worsens, severely affected individuals can develop not only fever, hallucinations, and delirium—but also physical mutations. Extra limbs, abnormal growths, or strange scales sprouting from the skin, for instance.
It was clear now that Li Shuangren had already started experiencing bodily mutations.
At the Mental Health Center, doctors could perform surgery to remove mutated body parts, which was one effective way to slow or stop the spread of contamination.
Supporting him back to the sofa, Song Nanxing gently tested the waters, “Why not go to a proper hospital? In your condition, a certified physician could give you the right treatment.”
He genuinely didn’t understand why someone would rather come to Good Dream—a clearly unlicensed psychological counseling firm—for such a risky procedure, instead of seeking help at an official mental health institution.
“I’m not going to the hospital!” Before he could finish, Li Shuangren shouted with increasing agitation. He twisted his neck in a paranoid jerk and glared at Song Nanxing, eyes bloodshot. “Don’t you dare try to have me locked up!”
Seeing his rising distress, Song Nanxing quickly tried to calm him down.
But suddenly, Li Shuangren let out a pained scream and dropped to his knees. The thick down jacket on his body tore open with a loud rip, and countless thin, ashen-gray arms burst out from the gaps, scrambling for freedom.
His emaciated body curled into a twisted arc as the thin limbs—resembling the many legs of an arthropod—braced against the floor and launched him straight up to the ceiling.
The whole transformation happened so fast that Song Nanxing was left staring blankly upward.
Li Shuangren’s coat had already been shed and fallen to the ground in tatters. His bare torso, pale and bony, was now fully exposed. His ribcage was terrifyingly prominent, and those wiry gray arms had sprouted from between the ribs like parasitic growths.
Now those clawed fingers were scratching feverishly at the ceiling, producing a piercing screech that set Song Nanxing’s teeth on edge.
“I’m not going to the hospital.” Li Shuangren’s voice trembled as his blood-red eyes—now resembling insectoid compound eyes—locked anxiously onto Song Nanxing. His mandibles jutted out from his split lips, twitching restlessly, while yellow-green saliva dripped onto the carpet below, burning through it with a quiet hiss, leaving behind a cluster of corroded holes.