Apocalyptic Island - Chapter 34

Chapter 34

The windows in the room absolutely could not break. Not only would the heating efficiency plummet, but the overall security of the house would be compromised. A house that appeared intact and uninvaded sent a sign of strength; if it were damaged, it would signal to those lurking outside that the defenses could be breached, and the desperate or opportunistic would surely look for a way in.

Wen Yishu acted decisively. She unlatched the handle and pushed the window outward. Since the automatic power was out, she had to do it manually.

The rose leaves, meeting no resistance, slapped inward violently. Droplets of water flung by inertia landed on Wen Yishu’s face—icy and cold—accompanied by a rush of damp, freezing air.

She unsheathed her short blade without hesitation, pointing it at the rose: “Don’t come any closer, or I won’t be polite.”

The tip of the blade rested against the veins of a leaf. The serrated edges of the massive leaves looked incredibly sharp, as if the plant were silently daring Wen Yishu to a duel. The upright leaves of the rose gathered into a hollow, three-sided bud shape, its pointed tip looking exceptionally hostile. The dense, tiny thorns at the top were all aimed at Wen Yishu. It lacked the positive, upward vitality of a green plant; instead, it looked like a bizarre alien organism, exerting an invisible pressure.

Wen Yishu’s first thought was how ugly it was—it had lost all the aesthetic grace of the floral species.

Her cold gaze seemed to sting the rose. The branches that had paused began to stir again, lunging straight for Wen Yishu’s face. Without mercy, Wen Yishu sliced off the three leading leaves with her short blade. The rose seemed stunned; it retracted instantly, the entire branch wilting downward.

The String of Pearls wrapped around Wen Yishu’s arm bristled completely. Only after seeing the rose retreat did it relax, though it had constricted so tightly that Wen Yishu’s arm ached. She simply plucked the plant off her arm.

The severed rose leaves softened, returning to the state of ordinary leaves before the mutation. Noticing the rainwater clinging to them, she used her blade to flick the leaves out of the room.

Most speculations on her device linked the plant mutations to the recent series of strange rains. However, Huo Xiaoguan and Ling Shuang had returned after being drenched in that rain, yet they hadn’t developed abilities or turned into variants. Wen Yishu guessed it was a matter of probability and individual constitution. If she were to be strictly scientific, there were too many variables; thus, she chose the simplest path of thought—sometimes the most common variable is the key.

Wen Yishu’s line of reasoning followed this path. Since her parents had passed away in an accident long ago, she had no way of knowing if there were hidden recessive possibilities in their genes. Rhine’s entry physical exams were detailed, so she knew her teammates were healthy, with no major illnesses in three generations. Mutation was, in the end, a genetic jump; she hadn’t become a variant or lost her mind, but had become a person with abilities. She wondered if there were others like her.

Wen Yishu noticed the rainwater at the rose’s cut began to turn red; acid rain apparently turned the rose’s sap red. She leaned her head out with the String of Pearls to look down. The severed tip of the rose had reached up again. This time, it wasn’t arrogant; instead, it used a newly grown, tender leaf to wave cautiously at her.

Normally, controlling leaves to grow larger shouldn’t be hard for a mutated plant, so it seemed to be intentionally acting weak to curry favor. The String of Pearls in her hand was furious at this sight, instantly extending its tips to lash out at the rose in the air.

The tender rose leaves were whipped into tatters, yet the plant remained huddled by the windowsill. If Wen Yishu hadn’t seen its ferocity just moments ago, she might have been deceived by this display. The String of Pearls was clearly livid, using its reinforced vines to strike the rose repeatedly.

Seeing the leaves being shredded, Wen Yishu couldn’t bear to watch further and pulled the String of Pearls back into her pocket: “Alright, alright, stop hitting it. Don’t go hurting yourself.”

Though it had carefully avoided the rose’s thorns, a few of its round leaves had still been grazed with shallow cuts. Because they were in such close quarters, Wen Yishu’s hand inevitably brushed against both sides. A few beads of blood rolled from her fingertip, and the String of Pearls, quick-witted, caught the tiny droplets the moment they fell.

Wen Yishu felt no pain. She retracted her hand instantly and slammed the window shut against the dangerous outside world. The rose was left staring blankly at the glass, its branches swaying slightly in a loss of what to do.

The next second, a voice rang out in Wen Yishu’s ear: “Go away, go away! Everyone go away! Go away, dead flower, go away!”

Wen Yishu: ?

She looked at the String of Pearls still waving its vines in her pocket, her expression dazed. Was she hallucinating? Had the mermen fought their way into the city?

Wen Yishu poked a leaf of the String of Pearls. The plant quieted down instantly and wrapped itself carefully around her hand. The eerie voice became even more distinct—a cute, cartoonish voice: “Master, I want to cling to you forever~”

Frightened, Wen Yishu flung the plant away. She heard a fading “Ouch!” as the String of Pearls was tossed onto the blade of the old-fashioned ceiling fan.

“What was that for? You promised never to throw me away again!” the voice continued.

The extended vines of the String of Pearls hooked toward Wen Yishu. Just like back at Rhine, it looked incredibly aggrieved, yet it didn’t dare actually reach out to grab her hand.

Wen Yishu asked tentatively: “Is that you speaking?”

The air was silent for a second. The next moment, a barrage of words from the plant hit her: “It’s me, Master! You can finally talk to me!”

It shook its leaves so excitedly that soil fell from its roots. The old fan blade creaked under the weight. Wen Yishu had no choice but to reach out and catch the dancing vines.

She thought she was going crazy—her ability had evolved to the point of hearing plants speak. The room was deathly quiet; the voice of the String of Pearls seemed to enter her brain directly. It was too clear to be a hallucination.

After a brief conversation, Wen Yishu realized that aside from this plant, she couldn’t hear the other plants outside.

The String of Pearls explained: “The tree next to Rhine taught me this. It predicted the tsunami. I was still sleeping, but it woke me up. It said it ate a human crystal nucleus and could barely protect its own seeds. Since the tree was too massive and its roots couldn’t be moved, it gave all its remaining nutrients to me.”

The image of the tall Malabar Plum tree appeared in Wen Yishu’s mind. She wondered how it was doing; the tsunami had submerged all the trees by the coast. She hoped it was okay.

Of course, not all plants could communicate with Wen Yishu. The String of Pearls had gained this ability through a stroke of luck. More accurately, their communication wasn’t speech in the traditional sense, but a connection via neural pathways. In the eyes of the String of Pearls, Wen Yishu was a powerful “Big Tree” that could provide it with extra nutrients. Its feelings for her were pure, transparently sharing all its information with her.

Wen Yishu discovered it had completely evolved into a Tier 2 mutated plant. Her blood, absorbed by accident, had facilitated their connection. If not for the accidental prick from the rose thorn, it might have taken a long time to discover this. The plant’s speech was very clear, learned from being around Wen Yishu, combined with the nutrients from the Plum tree.

Wen Yishu looked at it with novelty. She had always known plants might have their own language system, but actually speaking to one felt surreal. Old studies suggested that playing music or giving daily praise helped plants grow better. She had always thought that was metaphysical, but now it was real. She gave the plant a few words of praise, and its “tail” almost wagged to the sky.

The two large, round leaves at its tip squeezed Wen Yishu’s finger gently: “Don’t open the window for that rose outside, okay? It’s not a good thing.”

Wen Yishu looked at the rose’s tattered leaves; it really looked like they were the aggressors.

The plant, having absorbed human language, explained: “Look, Master. Those people tangled in its branches are all mutated humans. It’s only testing you right now because it hasn’t figured you out yet. it’s not friendly to its own kind at all—it’s the type that attacks proactively. We should stay far away; don’t be fooled by it.”

Wen Yishu’s sixth sense had told her the rose downstairs was bad news; she hadn’t been wrong. She took two steps back. Plants usually have fixed territories and don’t encroach on each other unless survival space is at stake. Sure enough, once she retreated to a safe distance, the branches at the window slowly dropped away.

Wen Yishu looked at the String of Pearls on her wrist and asked: “What is your name?”

the circling vines stopped suddenly. The plant said shyly: “I don’t know. I don’t have a name yet. My mother didn’t give me one when I was born. Can I name myself?”

Wen Yishu nodded, feeling like the plant was like a cute little pet.

“Then I’ll be called Little Pearl (Xiao Zhu).”

A joyful voice rang out. Wen Yishu rubbed the back of her head, feeling its naming sense was a bit poor: “Do you really want to be called that? Want to reconsider?”

The two leaves touched each other like the hands of Doraemon. The excited voice came again: “Really! I also think that name sounds too childish! Then I’ll be called Old Pearl (Lao Zhu)!”

Wen Yishu’s lip twitched. She completely gave up on its aesthetic tastes. This wasn’t a soft, cute pet—the way it talked was exactly like Huo Xiaoguan and Ling Shuang.

The String of Pearls gesticulated wildly, smacking its vines against Wen Yishu’s face: “Master, can you throw me again? That was so much fun!”

Wen Yishu wordlessly tossed the plant out. Accompanied by the shout of “This Old Pearl is going to the heavens!”, the last shred of her fantasy about the plant perished.

She took a deep breath, her throat feeling a bit dry from talking. Even though the communication was non-verbal, she still reflexively spoke out loud. It was fine at home, but she would surely draw attention outside; people would think she was either insane or a variant.

She strode over and pulled open the door, only to bump right into Bai Mi. Bai Mi was standing at the door with two cups of cold milk, looking like she had been there for a while.

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