Chapter Two: Game Over

Early summer had arrived, and the once vibrant and dazzling flowers had all withered away, leaving only unripe fruits hanging from the branches. Children passing by would clap their hands in delight at the sight, while their parents had to explain why they couldn’t pick them just yet.

Such scenes teeming with life were completely invisible from inside the special isolation ward of the Centers for Disease Control.

The Centers for Disease Control, a government-run public welfare institution, was responsible for implementing nationwide disease prevention and control, as well as public health technology management and services. Its duties included establishing a national public health monitoring system, managing major epidemics and sudden public health emergencies, and conducting vaccine research and distribution for relevant diseases.

Patients quarantined by this agency were essentially the index cases—the so-called patient zero—of some extraordinary disease.

Lying on her side on the hospital bed, a short-haired girl gazed out through the completely sealed window. She was such a “patient zero.”

“How are you feeling today?” a clear male voice came from the wall.

Besides the bed and bedside table, the spacious room contained nothing else. Even the walls were made of a special soft material, designed so that even if the patient suddenly lost control, they couldn’t hurt themselves by hitting the walls.

“No feelings,” the girl replied, withdrawing her eyes from the window and tilting her head toward the tiny speaker from which the voice came.

Her voice was gentle yet hoarse, as if she hadn’t spoken for a long time. Her slightly yellowed, tousled hair fell over her right eye as she looked up, which made her left eye seem all the brighter.

Though her complexion was passable, the empty hospital gown and the slender wrist revealed at the cuff showed she suffered from severe malnutrition.

“Is that so? That’s good. If you notice anything unusual—”

“Just press the blue button on the bedside, I know, I know,” the girl interrupted with a wave of her hand, then gestured around the room. “Here, here, and here, and a whole group of doctors, nurses, and security in full protective gear will rush in immediately.”

The male voice fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

“You must understand, you’re infected with a previously unknown supervirus,” he said. “It can mutate into any other form, including terrifying diseases long thought extinct.”

“I already knew that,” the girl said with a slight smile, as if deliberately undermining him. “PAX-200, right?”

“Moreover, it has a special ‘regression’ feature,” the man continued. “After mutation, if it finds the external environment unsuitable, it will revert to its original harmless form. However, this process consumes your physical strength.”

“So I have to keep eating and exercising to avoid being drained by it—” The girl sat up, dangling her equally slender legs, and began looking for her shoes. “Why are you repeating what we all already know today?”

“…Furthermore, if you come into contact with other infected individuals after it mutates, the originally harmless PAX-200 in them will immediately mutate into the same disease as yours.”

“Hmm… let me think.” Wearing hospital slippers, she walked to the wall where the voice came from, tilting her head as if inspecting the person on the other side. “Are you suddenly telling me all this because the higher-ups can’t find a solution and are planning to humanely eliminate me?”

“You know I wouldn’t let them do that, Patient Zero,” the voice answered firmly.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Monitor,” the girl—or Patient Zero—circled the room and returned to her bed. “Anyway, you must have done something today that’s going to make me unlucky.”

The monitor fell silent.

“Let me check.” The patient raised her hand, stirring the air before her. There appeared a translucent panel visible only to her, on which a notification had just refreshed.

[Notification: The antidote for ‘PAX-200’ has been developed and is being distributed worldwide.]

“Ah, so that’s it. You’ve developed an antidote, but since I’m the mutation source, I’ll be the last to be treated, right?” She waved her hand, making the panel vanish, then looked back with a half-smile. “Well, don’t feel guilty. It’s normal. What if you cured me first and the ‘source’ spread to someone else?”

“Although eliminating other viruses increases the mutation rate of the one in you, it’s not absolute…” The monitor tried to reassure her.

“No, no, no need to comfort me. I thought of that when I voluntarily ‘surrendered’ to you. It’s not surprising at all.” She waved her hand again. “But I hope you can cure my parents and brother first.”

“They are the first in line to receive the vaccine,” the monitor said with a slightly lighter tone. “Once this batch is widespread, ‘PAX-200’ will no longer mutate and will become part of the body’s beneficial microbiota—though it brings no benefits, haha.”

“Let’s hope so…” The girl yawned. “Alright, your job of ‘soothing Patient Zero’s emotions’ is done. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep.”

“Actually, there is something.” After the sound of something being turned off, the monitor continued amid the girl’s puzzled look. “You’re expected to be vaccinated next week. Then, can you—uh…”

“Hm? Can I what?” Patient Zero smiled slyly. “Don’t worry, I won’t complain about you.”

“Ah? Complain about what?” The monitor’s train of thought was interrupted, and he asked in confusion.

“Complaining about how you keep swapping shifts with your colleagues, so you come to chat with me while I’m awake.” The girl turned to look out the window.

“Oh, isn’t that…”

“Isn’t what?” Though the other person was unseen, she kept teasing.

“Phew—I mean!” The monitor took a deep breath and said loudly, as if making a resolute decision, “Please be my girlfriend after you’re discharged!”

“My answer is—” Before the girl could continue, the translucent panel she had brushed aside suddenly reappeared in front of her, flashing wildly:

[Notification: ‘PAX-200’ evolved ‘paralysis’ successfully]

[Notification: ‘PAX-200’ evolved ‘leukemia’ successfully]

[Notification: ‘PAX-200’ evolved ‘malignant tumor’ successfully]

[Notification: ‘PAX-200’ evolved ‘cardiac arrest’ successfully]

[Notification: ‘Deadly Combo’ achieved; remaining infected individuals will die immediately.]

“Ah, as I thought…” She sighed softly and mustered the strength to press the emergency call button.

“What’s happening?!” The monitor, waiting for a reply, suddenly sensed something was wrong and shouted.

“I mean… I’m glad… you like me…” The girl, now unable to move, used her weight to press down the emergency call.

A piercing alarm rang both inside and outside the ward.

Next time we meet, I hope you won’t call me “Patient Zero.”

On the translucent panel, invisible to everyone else, words quietly appeared line by line:

[Notification: The antidote for ‘PAX-200’ has been distributed worldwide,]

[Notification: ‘PAX-200’ has been eradicated; the world is safe]

[Infected: 7.053 billion; Deaths: 1]

[Game Over]