What the hell?
Lynch yanked his finger back, breaking into a cold sweat.
At its core, the fruit was highly toxic and lacked a hard shell, making it impossible for it to actually break through skin. Even so, the sheer suddenness of it gave Lynch quite a scare.
What was going on?
The four exchanged bewildered glances, completely baffled by what had just happened.
Mrs. Nightingale had never mentioned that these things would bite. The fruits produced in the previous two tests hadn't bitten Lynch either—he had only been chased down by a tester because he poked the face of a fruit modeled after her.
So why did it bite him this time? Was it throwing a tantrum from being picked? Or was it just sick of looking at his face?
Lynch thought for a moment and carefully extended his finger again.
The moment his finger neared the peel, the fruit's open mouth snapped shut with incredible speed. If the severed head could turn, it might have actually bitten him.
Lynch closed his eyes to compose himself, then looked over at Officer Natalie. Reading his mind, the female officer extended her finger toward the fruit.
Be good, don't bite. Don't copy your real-life counterpart.
Yet as soon as she touched it, she yanked her hand back—the fruit's mouth had snapped shut once again.
Something was definitely wrong.
It wasn't a fluke, nor was it targeting Lynch specifically—this thing was biting indiscriminately.
It behaved exactly like those mad infected people.
An ominous feeling rose in all four of their hearts. Since these fruits bore human features, could they have been corrupted by the plague as well?
But they hadn't been bitten—how could they be infected?
“No, while they carry human symbolism, they are still plants at their core,” Miss Diana said. “Just like the corrupted grain.”
“But this shouldn't be happening. The finished fruits from the previous testers didn't act like this.” Lynch rubbed his temples, feeling a massive headache coming on as he pondered aloud. “Even though our arrival altered the sequence of events within the memory relic, the core details shouldn't fundamentally change. For instance, the culprits are still Old Sven and the city lord, the corrupted element is still the grain, and the catalyst is still the youngest son Jack's corpse. Only recent actions changed the progression. This means the soil and grain during the previous tests had issues too. If they could corrupt the human-faced fruits, those two testers wouldn't have harvested healthy ones.”
“True... but I still lean toward them being corrupted. Such a high stillborn rate is abnormal enough on its own, and now the fruits are biting people. Every sign points to contamination.”
“Instead of guessing endlessly, why don't we harvest the remaining fruits first?” Officer Natalie interrupted their debate. “It might just be an isolated case. Maybe the rest are normal.”
Well, she had a point. One anomaly didn't prove a pattern; he was overreacting.
Lynch scratched his head awkwardly, carefully put away his four extra heads, and headed straight for the next location.
However, reality proved that their earlier discussion wasn't a waste of time, nor was that plant an isolated case.
All ten plants in the first batch had reached maturity, but their growth was poor, and the stillborn rate was terribly high. Only three plants—bearing eight fruits in total—remained viable.
Yet all eight were completely mad, trying to bite anyone who dared touch them.
Lynch was forced to admit that the fruits were indeed corrupted.
But why was there such a massive discrepancy between this and the prior test results?
“Care to hear my guess?”
“You're awake?” Lynch noticed Judy had regained consciousness. “You've woken up several times over the past few days, and I heard you were conscious all night yesterday. Is your mind holding up?”
“A minor issue, but manageable. Besides, the situation here is quite fascinating.” Judy's eyes sparkled with deep interest. “I have a theory.”
“Oh?”
“A city is a concept.” Judy's previously hollow voice grew firm and powerful, her gaze radiant with confidence—perhaps this was the true presence of a vassal of the Lady of Fire. “Within this concept, auxiliary concepts like resistance and isolation naturally exist.”
The other three listened intently, nodding in unison.
“Based on our deduction, the corpse was originally buried outside the city, polluting the surrounding soil and causing this year's crops to become corrupted into the source of the plague. However, the human-faced fruits planted inside the city during the two tests were completely fine because the concept of the city protected the soil within its boundaries, keeping the concept of the plague at bay.”
Silence fell over the group. After a long pause, Miss Diana spoke up, lost in thought, “That makes a lot of sense. The concept of isolation protected the city, but this time... Ah, I see.”
All three listeners realized it at once.
“Our arrival—or perhaps the attention of the Lord of a Billion Radiance—caused subtle shifts in events, prompting Old Sven to dig up the corpse earlier than before,” Lynch picked up the thread. “This not only led City Lord Jackson to believe his son had woken up earlier and prepare a room for him ahead of time, but it also brought the corpse from outside the city into the city, buried right beneath the basement. As a result, the soil inside the city, which should have been protected, became corrupted as well, turning the plants mad.”
Judy nodded. “Indeed. It's merely a guess based on occult principles, so it might not be entirely accurate.”
“Yet it's the most logical explanation we have,” Lynch said. “The biggest question now is: can these corrupted fruits still be used?”
They looked at one another, none able to provide an answer.
The entire purpose of the human-faced fruits was to concoct a cure for the plague, but now the fruits themselves were corrupted by it. Even though the fruits functioned purely on an occult conceptual level rather than as a physical ingredient in the medicine, could a cure brewed under the influence of a corrupted concept remain untainted?
The probability was excruciatingly low.
A heavy sense of despair weighed on their hearts.
They had fought so hard over the past few days specifically for these fruits, only for their presence to end up corrupting them.
Was their mission destined to fail right here?
True, even if they failed, they could spend another five days starting over. But the situation in the Fifth Age was no better than here—the plague could break out at any moment within the next ten days or so. Factor in transport time, and they simply didn't have another five days to spare.
Officer Natalie clenched her fists, while Miss Diana bit her lip. Though theoretically the batch maturing tomorrow still held hope, if their deduction held true, tomorrow's batch would be no different—equally corrupted.
Both women were deeply disheartened.
Suddenly, Lynch smacked his palm, his eyes lighting up.
“Wait, we still have hope! Don't forget, we left a final backup batch outside the city!”
“If you calculate the timeline, by the time we planted those fruits outside, the corpse had already been moved into the basement.”
“The city's concept of isolation works both ways! It doesn't just block things from outside coming in—it also prevents concepts inside from spilling out! Just like how the model house can isolate the concept of the Color Out of Space!”
“In other words, as long as the corpse's corruption of the soil isn't permanent—functioning merely as a medium to transfer into the grain—then the fruits planted outside the city are actually safe! That's our final ray of hope!”
“As long as the stillborn rate isn't as high as the ones in the city, our mission might not fail after all!”
His words jolted them awake, and upon closer thought, it made total sense.
Checking the time, it was almost noon. The four didn't dare waste a second, hurrying to water the remaining two batches both inside and outside the city. They paid special attention to the batch outside, and after confirming nothing appeared amiss, they returned to the fortress with anxious hearts.
Dr. Sven was sitting beside his large cauldron. Seeing the four return, he paused. “Judging by your expressions, things didn't go smoothly.”
“I have good news and bad news,” Lynch said, making light of their plight. “The bad news is, eight of my heads have gone completely mad.”
With that, he pulled out eight severed heads and demonstrated to Dr. Sven how the fruits bit people.
“And the good news?”
“The good news is that we might still have a few heads that aren't mad. We'll find out tomorrow.”
Seeing Lynch messing around even now, Dr. Sven shook his head. “I have good news and bad news as well.”
Lynch's smile instantly vanished. “Lay it on me. I can take it.”
“The good news is, I've concocted the medicine.”
“And the bad news?”
“The effects aren't quite what we expected.” Dr. Sven offered a bitter smile. “It can't cure the infected.”
Lynch felt his breath catch in his throat.
The medicine was ineffective? Was this plague completely impossible to cure with medicine? What about the plague out in the real world?
All four of their hearts sank. Yet seeing that Dr. Sven didn't look entirely hopeless, Lynch forced himself to stay calm and pressed on:
“What do you mean? Explain.”
Rate on N.U.
