Apocalyptic Crazy Kitty

Chapter 2: What Good Is This Furball to Me?

He suddenly lunged toward the warehouse wall. Through the reflection in the glass, he could vaguely make out that what stood before him was none other than a big, fat orange cat! Its cat eyes were wide with shock. Zuo Chen incredulously rubbed his round cat face with both paws, then slapped himself hard across the face, feeling a stinging pain. This isn’t a dream… I’ve really turned into a cat! “Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow (What the hell is going on)!” Zuo Chen shouted, but all that came out was a cat’s meow. The continuous yowling caught the attention of two zombies, who immediately lunged toward the test chamber. With no time to think, Zuo Chen leaped out of the test chamber and, like a streak of orange lightning, bolted out of the lab. The zombies in the hallway were gathered in groups, and when they saw an orange cat appear, they all pounced on it at once. Although zombies preferred human flesh and blood, when they saw a living creature, they didn’t mind having a little dessert. Zuo Chen leapt off the ground on all four paws, darting swiftly beneath the zombies’ feet as he dodged their grasping claws, racing down the hallway until he reached a corner. Shaking off the zombies was only temporary; they were still closing in. Just then, he suddenly spotted a ventilation shaft above him. He immediately bared his sharp claws, clung to a crack in the wall, and scrambled inside at top speed. No sooner had he darted into the vent than the zombies caught up. Seeing only the round, orange-yellow head peeking out of the vent, they were completely helpless and could do nothing but growl in frustration. Looking down at the pink pads on his claws, Zuo Chen couldn’t help but scream inwardly: What good are these little meatballs to me!? As he thought this, he couldn’t help but stick out his tongue and lick his claws. As he made his way through the ventilation ducts throughout the entire building, he realized it had completely turned into a zombie paradise. Everywhere he looked, there were zombies wearing work uniforms—clearly, most of the researchers here had already turned. However, he hadn’t seen Song Tianqiao… Soon, he made his way through the ducts to the room where he and Li Zhe had been held captive. The door was wide open, and Li Zhe was nowhere to be seen. The room was covered in splattered blood and in utter disarray. Zuo Chen’s heart sank. It looked like Li Zhe was in grave danger… Suppressing his grief, Zuo Chen made his way through the ventilation ducts to the restroom, leaped into the empty room, and gently closed the door behind him. He leaped onto the blood-stained sink, and the shattered mirror immediately reflected an orange, plump cat—that round head looked all too familiar. Isn’t that Li Jianguo!? How did I turn into Li Jianguo!? As the fragments of his memory gradually came together, he seemed to “see” himself dissolving into a pool of crimson liquid, and then he “saw” Li Jianguo transform into a zombie the instant he fell into the test chamber; the crimson liquid swiftly seeped into Li Jianguo’s body, merging with it as one. Needless to say, Li Jianguo was already dead at the moment of his transformation; now this body belonged to him. And the mastermind behind all this was that damned Song Tianqiao. To regain a human body, he had to find that bastard! At this thought, Zuo Chen couldn’t help but let out an angry growl: “Meow!” “Gurgle… gurgle…” With his doubts resolved, Zuo Chen felt a frenzied hunger—not from his stomach, but from every cell in his body. He could sense Li Jianguo’s body beginning to slowly break down to satisfy this hunger. He needed to eat—right now! Although he didn’t understand what was causing this frenzied hunger, he was certain it was due to his own physical condition. This hunger was already driving him mad; his eyes had turned blood-red. Zuo Chen entered the ventilation duct once more and, following the scent, quickly made his way to the research institute’s kitchen. An obese zombie was pacing back and forth in the kitchen; judging by his blood-stained clothes and the kitchen knife in his hand, he must have been the chef. “Aaaargh!” Zuo Chen let out a frenzied scream as he dropped down from the ventilation duct, his four claws lashing wildly at the zombie’s face, instantly tearing the obese zombie’s eyeballs to shreds. Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the obese zombie roared in response. Though its eyes had been gouged out, it charged straight at Zuo Chen, guided by scent, raising the kitchen knife high above its head and bringing it down in a sweeping blow. Zuo Chen leaped aside to dodge the attack, landing directly on the obese zombie’s arm. He sprang upward and sank his teeth deep into the zombie’s neck, tearing off a large chunk of flesh. Purple-black blood, already half-clotted, began to flow. With that single bite, Zuo Chen had torn open a third of the obese zombie’s neck! He landed on the ground and glanced at his claws. Only then did he realize that the strength he now possessed was far beyond that of an ordinary cat—it was enough to be called that of a ferocious beast. His claws had grown significantly longer than before—now a full seven or eight centimeters long—resembling a row of sharp surgical scalpels. Leaping up once more, Zuo Chen swung both claws, sinking them deep into the obese zombie’s neck. There was a “plop,” followed by a “thud”—the zombie’s head had been torn off and rolled to the ground. The headless corpse wobbled for a moment before collapsing heavily to the ground. Zuo Chen had no time to celebrate; he opened the massive refrigerator, pounced on a ham, and began devouring it voraciously. Thanks to the solar power plant, the power supply here had never been interrupted. During that brief battle just now, he could feel his body had grown noticeably thinner; if he didn’t eat soon, his cells might start breaking him down! Although there wasn’t much left in the kitchen’s food supply, it was more than enough for someone of his size. After devouring three large hams, ten cans of corned beef, and seven or eight large flatbreads—a total amount of food roughly equal to his own body volume—Zuo Chen patted his bulging belly, leaned contentedly against the refrigerator door, and felt his sanity returning. He found a cigarette lying on the floor, reached out with two paws to pinch it between them, and—after expending a Herculean effort to light the gas stove with his soft, spongy paw pads—finally lit the cigarette. He then popped it into his pink cat mouth, took a massive drag that burned through half the cigarette, and collapsed onto the floor as if every bone in his body had been sucked out, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke. A cigarette after a meal—as blissful as a god’s life. The ancients truly did not deceive me… He could feel the cells inside his body frantically breaking down and absorbing the food. His mind was clearer than ever before, and his strength was greater than ever. The cells within his body were like a horde of reincarnated demons, constantly breaking down and absorbing the food, crying out with a hunger for more. He could even sense that this food would sustain him for no more than two hours; after that, he would have to eat again. Otherwise, the cells within his body would devour one another until they had consumed him until nothing but dust remained. Needless to say, all of this was related to the viruses injected into his body. To resolve this problem, he had to find Song Tianqiao first. Song Tianqiao must have fled to the Jicheng Base. Finding him would require a step-by-step approach… What on earth was this research institute studying? With that thought, Zuo Chen decided to head to the archives to see if he could uncover anything. Zuo Chen took one last drag on his cigarette, flicked the half-smoked butt to the ground, and leaped straight into the ventilation duct in the ceiling, heading toward the archives. Having eaten and drunk his fill, his fighting ability was now slightly stronger than before, and his confidence soared. Sure enough, there were only two zombies in the archives room, and Zuo Chen chopped off their heads as easily as slicing through vegetables—it took almost no effort at all. Zuo Chen then used the ID cards and fingerprints from the two zombies to unlock all the cabinets and began frantically searching through them. *Research Report on the Controllable Zombie Virus* *Human Genetic Enhancement Program* *Project Mo Ye* *Feasibility Report on Muscle Tissue Enhancement Trials* *Virus Resistance Testing Project* "Lava Virus Experiment Log" "Devourer Virus Experiment Log" "Matrix Virus Experiment Log" These documents were all index directories; after all, the relevant experimental data was bound to be voluminous and could not possibly be stored in paper form. Zuo Chen frowned as he pored over the files with a serious expression; line after line of code and various chemical formulas caught his eye. After looking through about ten pages, he suddenly looked up and then flung all the documents in his claws onto the floor. “Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow!” (Damn it! I’m a humanities major! ) As expected, he… couldn’t understand a single one of them! Although he couldn’t understand them, at least he could read. By skimming the summaries, Zuo Chen quickly figured out where these viruses were stored. All the detailed data and experimental products were on the fifth basement level of the research institute—that was the most critical experimental facility in the entire complex. Even the institute’s food reserves were stored in the cold storage on the fifth basement level. According to the latest lab logs, Song Tianqiao had already produced the first batch of “products,” which were stored on the fifth underground level—including the viral vaccines. Recalling what happened before he lost consciousness, Song Tianqiao had injected every single type of virus into Zuo Chen’s body all at once. To figure out exactly what was happening to his body and restore his human form, these so-called vaccines might actually be of some use. Without further ado, Zuo Chen crawled back into the ventilation duct, made his way past the hordes of corpses roaming the corridors, and reached the elevator shaft. Although there were no longer any maintenance staff, the research institute’s solar power plant was still operational. The entire system was estimated to run without failure for several more months—it was practically an isolated island in the midst of the apocalypse. Zuo Chen used a scavenged ID card to open the elevator doors, then pressed the button for the fifth basement level. “Ding—” The floor indicator stopped at -5, and the elevator doors slowly opened. Before him lay a massive underground chamber, spanning over a thousand square meters, filled with rows of white test beds and various medical instruments. But at that moment, the place felt more like a dining hall. The test beds, which had once held unconscious human test subjects hooked up to tubes, were now occupied by zombies that were gnawing on the anesthetized, unconscious humans as if they were dining at a table! “Crunch, crunch!” “Snap, snap!” The sounds of bones being crushed and flesh being torn echoed through the vast laboratory. Many of the humans on the test beds, though gnawed down to just half a body, were not yet dead; they trembled incessantly in their unconscious state, further whetting the zombies’ appetites. The strongest among these zombies was clearly a gaunt, skeleton-like creature. Standing in the center of the lab, it held a human head in one hand and was greedily feeding from it. The eyeballs in both skulls were still twitching—evidently, they had been torn off only moments ago. Blood—endless streams of blood—flowed down from hundreds of examination tables, coating the once-white floor with a layer of bright red. The sound of the elevator echoed through the lab, sounding particularly jarring amid the cacophony of chewing. Dozens of zombies that had been feeding simultaneously looked up, their gaze fixed on the elevator. Zuo Chen stood at the elevator entrance, the focus of all their attention. A grimace—more painful than a cry—twisted his chubby cat face as he cautiously greeted them: “…Meow?”