Chapter 2: Riverside and Outskirts (2)

Creak—

“Huh!?”

I thought I heard a faint, crisp snapping sound. Like a twig breaking underfoot.

But there weren’t any branches or twigs along the riverbank path I was walking. No way I could’ve stepped on one.

Was it someone else?

I immediately tensed up, alert.

“…”

Nothing.

Am I just being paranoid? I let out a sigh and kept moving, though my wariness didn’t ease in the slightest.

I’d already walked upstream for a good while. Ever since I saw that corpse drifting downriver, I’d cranked my vigilance up to maximum. 

The atmosphere here was seriously unsettling—a river that carries corpses, black stones and barren soil, decaying plant remnants, an eerie silence, wisps of fog, and cold wind shrieking with strange, distorted noises. It was like I’d wandered into some horror movie haunted by ghosts.

The surroundings grew more and more cluttered with deadwood and jagged rocks. 

Occasionally, I even spotted rotting farm tools discarded here and there. A sign I was getting closer to a human settlement—at least, in theory.

But looking around, I couldn’t imagine anyone actually living in a place like this. More likely, I’d reach some deserted ghost village.

One thing I couldn’t ignore.

These tools were ancient.

Not just worn out—their designs, craftsmanship, and overall style were clearly from a bygone era. They looked like relics from centuries ago, with no sign of modern machinery. The nearby farmland was just as abandoned: no crops, only the withered husks of unknown plants, none resembling anything I recognized.

“This soil…”

The ground here was black. Not the nutrient-rich black soil of the northeastern plains, but a pitch-dark color, like it had been contaminated. There was even a faint, weird stench, though I didn’t see anything nearby that resembled a chemical plant.

“I’m here.”

Beyond the fields, where the stream continued, stood a sizable village—or maybe a small town would be more accurate.

The river ran straight through it, and the town had been built along its banks. 

Staggered rooftops appeared before me, unevenly scattered. No matter how I looked at them, these buildings didn’t resemble any rural settlement in China. They looked like something out of an old European countryside film—stone-brick walls with weight and age, steep-pitched roofs, wooden fences, tall chimneys, even decorative medieval-style carvings.

The question of where I was grew more puzzling by the second.

This probably wasn’t China.

Could it be…

Was this really…

Another world?

I took a deep breath and stepped into the town, gripping the pitchfork I’d picked up from the fields. It was metal, surprisingly rust-free, and the prongs were still sharp.

The deeper I walked, the grayer everything became. Maybe it was the mist, but the whole town felt shrouded in gloom and ruin. The stone bricks on the walls were crumbling. Every window I passed was broken. Hanging signs creaked violently in the wind. The roads were full of potholes, and broken furniture littered the sides.

It had clearly been abandoned for a long time.

Not a soul in sight.

I wanted to call out, “Is anyone there?”—but the words caught in my throat.

I had a really bad feeling about this.

This kind of place clearly wasn’t fit for people to live in. No permanent residents. And who knows what might come if I shouted?

“—!?”

I spun around. 

Just a moment ago, I thought I saw a shadow dart behind a fence not far away. But rather than comfort, the realization that “someone else is here” only sent a chill down my spine.  I clutched the pitchfork tightly in both hands and strained my ears, hyperaware of every sound and movement. 

Who could it be? A villager from this crumbling town? Or a bandit lying in wait?

Back home, I trained regularly. As a kid, I learned basic combat from a relative who worked as a sanda coach. I wasn’t some expert, but I had some foundation. One-on-one, even if I couldn’t win, I could at least get away.

“…”

Was someone there?

Was there really someone else?

That feeling grew stronger and stronger. My heart pounded. My grip on the pitchfork tightened. And I scanned my surroundings for anything suspicious, any odd sound, any strange movement—

Shuff… shuff… sha-sha…

I could hear it faintly—something scraping.

At first, it sounded like tree branches swaying in the wind. But when I listened more closely, it was more like… something heavy dragging across gravel?

And close?

“!?”

Right behind me!

In that moment, I was absolutely certain—someone, something was there. This place wasn’t normal. Far from it. It felt like I’d been dropped into some cheap, grotesque B-grade horror flick. And I was the expendable character—the one who gets killed off first by a monster suddenly appearing behind them.

I could feel it; if I turned around, I’d see something twisted. A mutated beast, a zombie, something. I had to protect myself—had to fight—had to survive! Even if I was going to die, I needed to resist first.

“Don’t come any closer!!!”

I whirled around and stabbed the pitchfork down hard, but stopped just in time.

My hands trembled uncontrollably.

Sweat poured down my face in thick beads.

I was panting like never before.

I couldn’t even imagine what would’ve happened if I hadn’t held back.

“Ah… You are?”

And in that moment, all the creeping dread of the ruined town and the foul-smelling fog around me disappeared from my mind.

It was a girl.

A young girl, eyes closed, lying motionless on the ground.

Pale. Immaculate. Fragile.

Her snow-white skin stood out starkly against the dirty, gray-black soil. Snow-white skin. And that’s when I realized she wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing.

“Hey, uh, um… tch!”

Panic overtook me. I quickly pulled off my jacket and threw it over her. God, why was I freaking out like this? Maybe it was because I grew up with my sister—an undisputed school beauty—so I’d developed a strong immunity to attractive girls. But this… this was—

She was stunning.

Her face looked about my age, maybe a bit younger. Seventeen? Sixteen? She looked like a high schooler—probably a girl in her second or third year. I’d never seen anyone among my peers this beautiful. And with my poor vocabulary, I instinctively used my sister as a benchmark. If my sister, Zhou Yujing, was a “1” on the beauty scale, then this girl was a “3” or even a “4”…

She had features like a classical painting—eyes like a masterpiece, lips and nose sculpted like marble, skin smooth and luminous like mutton-fat jade. And her ears peeked playfully from beneath her silky hair, adding a strange allure—ethereal, untouchable, and yet wildly seductive. Even today’s top idols couldn’t compare.

And her figure… though I’d only glimpsed it before covering her, it was seared into my mind. Full, melon-shaped breasts. A slender waist. Smooth, shapely legs that peeked out from under my coat. She definitely didn’t have my sister’s… uh… modest figure.

Sorry, Little Jing. I shouldn’t have used you as a comparison.

“S-Sorry… um, are you alright?”

I hesitated, then gently tapped her cheek. Her skin was soft, with a warm, springy texture. I yanked my hand back like I’d touched something forbidden.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

“Mm…?”

Lashes like velvet trembled. Eyes the color of violets bloomed beneath them. Crystal clear. Innocent. And unspeakably alluring.

Then, her eyes went wide the moment she saw me.

“…Ah!”

She scrambled upright. My jacket slipped off her shoulders, and I immediately looked away and helped her pull it back up.

“Ah… ah… ah……”

She stared at me wide-eyed, lips parted in a series of soft, startled sounds. It looked like she was trying to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. She probably thought I was some pervert, which… yeah, understandable. I’d probably freak out too.

“I’m really sorry, miss. I didn’t mean anything bad.”

I rushed to explain. The sooner I cleared up this misunderstanding, the better.

“I found you lying here naked, crawling along the ground. I just woke you up. You can check your body right now. I swear I didn’t do anything to you.”

“…”

I kept babbling, but she didn’t respond.

I stole a glance at her. She was still staring blankly at me, lips slightly parted, as if caught between shock and confusion. And her jacket—hey! It’s slipping again!

“Come on, don’t just stand there like that. You’re in front of a total stranger here. At least try to cover yourself up a little.”

“…”

Still no response. With no other choice, I quickly spread the jacket and gently forced her arms through the sleeves, doing my best not to react to the soft, warm body brushing against my fingers or the image seared into my peripheral vision.

“There. Can you stand?”

“…Mm.”

Finally, a sound other than “ah…” I grasped her hand and helped her up. She swayed a bit before finding her balance. She looked tired. That’s when I noticed something else about her.

Her violet eyes were rare enough—like Elizabeth Taylor’s. But her hair… the color was extremely light. A pale gold? Light brown? Under this dim, overcast sky, it looked almost silver, with a faint violet sheen.

Everything about her—her appearance, her presence—felt unreal.

Which only made me more nervous.

Her expression had settled now—lips closed, eyes half-lidded, almost sleepy. Totally defenseless. Seductive, even—but I wasn’t letting my guard down. Who knew if this strange girl I’d stumbled upon in this creepy place was friend or foe?

“Let’s at least introduce ourselves. I’m Zhou. Zhou Yuhong. And you…?”

“F…Fe…Fee…”

“Uh…?”

An English name? She didn’t look Chinese, after all.

“Can you write it down?”

I handed her a dry twig. She obediently took it and wrote in the dirt.

Feelies

“How do you pronounce that… Feelies? Fei-li-si? Is it alright if I call you Fei-li-si? Uh… would you mind if I call you Felice?”

“Mm…”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

The air between us grew awkward.

No, more than that. I needed to get a grip and figure out where the hell I was.

“I know this is sudden, but I’m guessing you’re just as confused about ending up here as I am. Let’s help each other out, alright? Uh… Let’s help each other.”

“…Mm.”

She nodded again. Probably from an English-speaking country, then? At least we could communicate.

And so, our strange little duo was formed.

I led the way, pitchfork in hand, while she followed behind, wearing my coat. It felt like I’d picked up a stray kitten or maybe a puppy. Not that I liked either.

“Mm…”

Felice tugged at my sleeve, her gaze drifting to my feet. I gave her a sheepish smile. “Don’t mind.”

She’d been completely naked when I found her—no shoes either—so I gave her mine. Luckily, I always wear the same thick socks year-round to save money, and the ground, while uneven, didn’t have many sharp rocks. I could manage barefoot for now.

We moved on.

Maybe because I wasn’t alone anymore, I felt a bit more at ease.

Even if this place was still creepy as hell.

The farther we walked into town, the colder it got. That faint rotten stench in the air was getting stronger. The buildings looked more dilapidated than ever. And the mist—was it just my imagination, or had it thickened slightly? I couldn’t see very far ahead anymore. The atmosphere felt even more oppressive.

The dead trees by the road still creaked and groaned. The wind was steady and strong, so why didn’t it blow the mist away?

Whoooo—whishhhh—

Creak—creak, creak—

The wind scraped against the ruined buildings. No voices. No life.

Whoooo—save—whoooo, whoooo—

Am I just imagining things? Was that shadow I saw earlier just some animal? Was I seeing things?

Creak, creak—is—creak—anyone—creak, creak, creak—

“…Hmm?”

Amid the wind, I thought I heard something else.

But it wasn’t from the direction of the shadow I’d seen earlier. It came from the opposite side—deeper into town.

“Is someone else here too!?”

***

“Help, help! Is anyone there? Hey!!!”

“Hey… hey! Hang in there! Tch, this dump doesn’t look like it has anything close to a hospital.”

In a small clearing beside a half-collapsed wall, three people were gathered. A black-haired man, likely in his late twenties, lay on the ground. A blond boy who looked about fourteen or fifteen was shouting for help, while a brown-haired girl, seemingly between the two in age, was holding up the man’s head, panic etched across her face.

“What do we do, what do we do, what do we do!? If this keeps up—”

The blond boy was practically hopping with anxiety. 

The man on the ground had rolled back his eyes, white foam bubbling from his mouth as his body convulsed violently, making a strange gurgling noise in his throat. 

The girl seemed torn between wanting to help and being too scared to touch him, her face contorted with helplessness.

“Should we try CPR? But—”

“Does he look like he drowned to you?”

“…You’re right. Aaaahhh, what do we do!? Is anyone there!? Someone collapsed! Someone help—!”

—crashhhh!

A loud crash from the other side of the ruined wall cut them off, making the pair jump. There was a brief pause and then… 

“Are you…?”

A black-haired Asian boy—somewhere between teenager and young adult, maybe around eighteen or nineteen—pushed through the rubble. He was wielding a long pitchfork. He appeared before them dust-covered and road-worn. Behind him followed a strikingly beautiful girl who looked like she was sleepwalking, clad only in an oversized jacket and dusty sneakers.

“R-really?! There are other people!? Are you locals? A-anyway, this guy here is our… uh, newly met companion! H-he-he-he—he—”

“Tch—move!”

The black-haired boy immediately dropped his pitchfork and rushed over in quick strides. He pushed the two aside, propped the man up, and tore open his collar while asking:

“Did he ingest poison?”

“Poison? I-I don’t know… He just suddenly collapsed… but maybe? Could be…”

“Did he drink any water? From the river?”

“Huh? Water… ah, yeah, he did! A lot of it! He even washed his face with it.”

“Knew it. The river’s poisoned. There were corpses floating in it too. Don’t touch the water, ever!”

““What!?””

“He still has some consciousness, good. First, we need to induce vomiting.”

The boy ignored them after that. He propped the poisoned man upright, muttered a quick “Sorry,” and without hesitation shoved his fingers into the man’s mouth, despite the foam and choking. He pushed deep, jabbing at the tonsils, but when that didn’t work, he clicked his tongue and began pressing down hard below the man’s stomach. Then he smacked him on the back.

“—Ugh, hurk!”

The man jerked, mouth agape, gagging violently. Seeing he was about to vomit, the boy quickly tilted him forward. After a few spasms, something foul-smelling spilled from his mouth—

“…Ugh… gha—”

—and in that instant, he stopped moving.

His convulsions ceased.

His eyes rolled completely back.

His tongue lolled out.

He went still.

“““…”””

All three of them froze.

After several seconds, the Asian teen reached out with trembling fingers and checked his pulse. Then his breathing.

“…Dead.”

***

“…Dead.”

I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

Never in my life had I imagined that I, someone who never dreamed of becoming a doctor or a cop, would one day declare another person’s death.

The river water was highly toxic. This man had drunk a lot, and clearly some time had passed since then. Even inducing vomiting might not have helped. I’d been mentally prepared for this, but now that it had actually happened, it was still hard to accept. A wordless sorrow welled up inside me, even though I didn’t know him.

I took a deep breath, reaching out to close his eyelids—

Hssssssss…

But my hand never made it.

The man’s body suddenly lost its form, just like instant coffee dissolving in water; he dissolved into a pale mist. Blue-green in color, the mist lingered only a few seconds before scattering into the air, gone forever.

“…Huh?”

The corpse turned into mist and vanished?

Before the shock could even set in, my mind flashed back to the footprints on the riverbank.

There had been signs of struggle.

But no body.

So that’s what happened.

That poor soul must’ve died and vanished into mist, too.

But then, what about the corpse that drifted downstream? Why didn’t that one vanish? What the hell is this place? What’s happening to us? I—huh?

Just as I looked up, behind the dumbstruck blond boy, something was approaching—

“Watch out!!”

I yanked him away—along with the brown-haired girl—just as a sharp claw slashed through the air where he had stood moments earlier.

“What the—”

“What is that thing!?”

“Back! Stay back! Felice, get down!”

I practically dragged the two paralyzed teens several meters away while shouting for Felice to retreat. I glanced back at the attacker. What I saw made my skin crawl.

It was roughly human-sized and vaguely humanoid in shape, but absolutely not human.

Its skin looked more reptilian than primate, a dull grayish-yellow covered in scale-like textures. Its hands and feet were clawed like a lizard’s. Its head was irregularly shaped, with a gaping mouth that took up half its face, filled with jagged, drooling teeth. No eyes were visible.

One other feature caught my attention—not dramatic, but unsettling. 

Fog.

A faint gray mist seemed to envelop its entire body.

Hssss… ssssss…

It breathed with a raspy, disgusting wheeze. Even without visible eyes, it seemed perfectly capable of locating us by sight. The brown-haired girl screamed. The blond boy was too stunned to speak.

Come on, do something!

“Get down!”

I shouted as I looked around for anything we could use as a weapon. We were completely defenseless. We couldn’t just—

“Hey—”

It was Felice. She bent down, picked up the pitchfork I’d dropped earlier, and tossed it toward me just as the creature lunged.

Thankfully, it wasn’t that fast. I growled and caught the pitchfork mid-air, thrusting it forward with all my strength. 

Huh?

For a split second, I thought I saw something seeping from my body—something bluish-black. It wrapped around the pitchfork, gathering at the tip, and as it touched the monster’s gray mist, the two vapors entwined and vanished.

Time seemed to slow.

The blue-black fog—clearly some kind of mist—interacted with the creature’s own and then dispersed.

But that was all.

The pitchfork struck it, hit flesh, and penetrated. I was about to sigh in relief. 

Bang!

“Guh!?”

It was solid. Way harder than I expected. The recoil nearly tore the weapon from my hands. The prongs had pierced its hide, leaving four small puncture wounds oozing faint purple fluid—its blood, I guessed.

But that was it.

A normal human struck in the abdomen with that kind of force would’ve had organs skewered, but this thing only suffered surface wounds.

“Hssssraaaaaugh!”

Just as I froze, it let out a screech and swung one clawed arm at me.

#####

Initial Equipment: Pitchfork
• Type: Polearm · Fork
• Weight: Medium
• Background: A relatively sharp farming tool, usually used to pile hay
• Acquired: Found near the farmland outside the village
• Attack Style: Thrust
• Special Abilities: None

Fog Fiend: Common Lizardman
• Type: Humanoid · Hybrid · Alchemical Creature
• Rank: Fodder
• Background: An alchemical being created by fusing primate and reptilian genes. Though called a “Lizardman,” it cannot climb like real lizards or regenerate lost limbs. Its physical strength is also underwhelming. Considered a failed creation, but due to low cost and effectiveness in groups, it was mass-produced by Ian.
• Weapons: Claws, Venomous Fangs
• Skills: Slash, Lunge Bite
• Special Traits: None