Little Mushroom

It was not long before the woman at the wall stopped her weeping. Her eyes were red and her hair was messy. She leaned against the wall and looked at the sky in the distance. She didn't say a word, like a drop of water on a leaf.

An Zhe asked carefully, "Aren't you leaving?"

She shook her head, her voice hoarse: "What does the dead have to do with you?"

It took a long time for An Zhe to find the appropriate words in memory: "My ... friend. He saved me."

"My man saved me, too." After she said this, her head drooped deeply, her shoulders and spine shaking, and she occasionally made a crying cry or two, and never spoke again.

Anzhe held the ID card belonging to Fans tightly in his hand, and his heart—the heart that belonged to humans—was a dull feeling. When he was a pure mushroom, he never had this. Kind of feeling.

When this feeling finally dissipated a little, he finally found the strength to follow the direction of the distant crowd and lifted his legs out of the passage.

At the end of the city gate passage is a row of machine gates. Anzhe chose the leftmost one. As he walked by, a soft mechanical voice sounded: "Please show your ID card and look at the camera."

Anzhe placed the ID card belonging to Anze on the white light on the platform at the right end of the gate, and then looked up at the black camera facing forward.

"ID3261170514, Name: An Ze. Hometown: Outer City District 6, Duration: 27 days."

The camera hair made a slight noise, and the white light turned green.

"Face recognition passed. Welcome home."

With a jingle, the gate rose and Anzhe went out.

The glare of the sun narrowed his eyes in the morning, and he slowed down after thirty seconds. After the blurred world became clear, a large gray city appeared in front of him.

There is a large open area around him. The words "buffer zone" are written on the ground with dazzling green paint. Looking ahead, human creations have risen to the ground. Tall concrete buildings have covered the sky. The plants must be huge, as if to dump at any time. They stood there, crowded, layer upon layer, blocking his sight. He looked up, half of the orange sun was hiding behind the tallest building, and the other half was exposed, like a drop of diluted blood, which would drip down the wall the next moment.

An Zhe turned his head, and the people who came out of the gate with him were scattered by the mechanical gate. After leaving, they spontaneously gathered together and went in the same direction. An Zhe followed them, and turned a few hundred steps. , The sign says four words "rail transit", a train stops on the track, the body says: entrance-1 area-3 supply station-5 area-8 area-city office-exit.

He followed the flow of people into the car, found a corner in the slightly empty compartment, and sat in the front seat. Two strong men were talking softly.

"Come back from Basin 3? You're headed off this time."

"Six people died."

"It's okay, is it back?"

"The military is still deciding. I don't think I will have to go to the wild in my next life."

"Well."

"We went to a school in Waste City 411, which was full of mutant plants, and no one dared to enter." The man smiled. "We went in, and we pried three hard disks in the library reference room, which is invaluable. Just look. How much value is in it? "

An Zhe listened quietly, he didn't understand, but knew that the man in front was very happy, so he was also a little happy.

He knew that happy people didn't mind helping others, so he shouted, "Sir."

The man didn't return, and said, "What's wrong?"

"Where does District 6 go?"

"Transfer Station to Train 2."

"Thank you."

Five minutes later, the train started and there was a mechanical voice saying the name of the platform. Anzhe was strange to everything. After several twists and turns, he finally got on the No. 2 train at the supply station, and then got off the train correctly. .

Anze's ID number is 3261170514. This series of numbers is not only a proof of human identity, but also his address. It is located in Building No. 117, District 6, Waicheng, with house number 0514.

However, it was not long before he got out of the car. When he was trying to find someone to ask for directions, he was suddenly pulled by a young boy: "Hello, friend. Welcome off the bus, would you mind understanding us?"

Before An Zhe had time to speak, he was stuffed with a white piece of paper with a few blood red characters written on it: against the dictatorship of the judge.

He didn't know why, but didn't follow up, just said: "Do you know how to get to Building 117?"

The boy said, "Don't you mind taking a walk with us?"

"……do not mind."

"Then we are comrades-in-arms." The boy held up a blank piece of paper in his hand, which also wrote a few big red characters: Repeal the Judges Act.

They were not the only ones holding the paper. Soon, Anzhe was drawn into a group of people. They had about forty people, their faces were young, and each person held a similar piece of white paper. Or two people hold a long banner together, and the sentences on the paper and the banner are roughly the same.

"We voluntarily bear the cost of genetic testing."

"Human Sinner Judge."

"Dissolve the trial court and make justice for the innocent."

At the same time, the crowd was slowly moving forward, so Anzhan could only move with it.

The city's roads are narrow, the sun is shining on the buildings, and the buildings cast rolling shadows on the ground. In addition to them on the road, there are also many adults walking with their heads down. They occasionally look up here, but quickly look away.

An Zhe: "What are we doing?"

"Quiet demonstration," the boy said, "we will march until the day when the trial court is dissolved."

An Zhe: "... Oh."

After walking about half an hour, he asked the boy next to him again, "Where is Building 117?"

"Front, it's almost there."

An hour and a half later, Anzhe asked again, "Where is Building 117?"

"I'm sorry!" The boy scratched his head. "I forgot you, we walked past and came behind."

Then he turned and pointed to a place: "That direction, not far, with the building number written on the side, you can see it."

An Zhe: "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

An Zhe handed the paper to the boy: "This is for you."

"No need!" The boy shoved the paper back into his arms, and said, "Remember to come again next week! Let's gather in Building 1!"

So Anzhe could only stack this **** "opposing the dictator of dictatorship" with the genetic report sheet that the judge himself had tucked into his arms. Walked in the direction.

——While walking, I felt that the surrounding environment gradually became familiar. Those memories that originally belonged to An Ze were awakened. He followed his instincts to turn a few corners and smoothly arrived at the foot of the building labeled “117”. This is a rectangular building, 10 stories high, but very wide. He entered Unit 0, climbed the deep and steep stairs to the fifth floor, entered a dim corridor, and found Room 11.

A white seal was affixed to the door, and Anzhe gently tore it open. The sensing area was exposed below. He stuck the ID card on it, the door lock popped open, and he walked in.

This is a small room. It's smaller than the cave he used to live in, but much more spacious and bright than the lounge inside the armored car. Beside the wall was a wooden desk with a dozen old books on the table, paper and notebooks stacked on the other side. The desk is facing a single bed. There is a cupboard at the head of the bed, and there are cups, mirrors and some sundries. A closet taller than one stands against the end of the bed.

The window was on the other side of the bed, the gray curtains were half open, the sun came in, and it shone on the quilt of the same color. A dry aroma reminded him of the taste of Anzai.

He walked over to the bed and reached down to take out the slap-sized mirror, which reflected his face.

He looks like Anzai, with soft black hair and eyes of the same color. He looks like it in many places, but some details are different. Moreover, he did not have the gentle and calm look of An Ze.

At that time, Anzai said to him, "I seem to have an extra brother. Let me give you a name, little mushroom."

"Are you impressed, little mushroom?"

There were only two things in his limited memory that were profound, one was the lost spores, and the other happened when he was very young-probably when he was only as long as a little finger of a human being.

In the rainy season when the mushroom was growing, he was hit by a sloping raindrop on the slender stalk, and his waist was folded off.

Then, like any injured creature, try to grow back and live.

Later, he gradually got some vague consciousness, and he healed.

Since then, he seems to be different from his own kind. He can control his hyphae, can flow between the jungle and the wilderness, and can also know the sound and movement outside. He is a free mushroom.

"Poor little." At that time, Anze touched his hair: "Does it hurt when you break it?"

"forgotten."

Anze said, then ask you to settle down.

He said, OK.

Thinking of this, An Zhe smiled in the mirror.

When the man in the mirror laughed, he seemed to see the shadow of An Ze again.

"Thank you," he said to the mirror.

After putting down the mirror, An Zhe sat at the desk.

What to do next?

After thinking about it, An Zhe stretched out his left hand and stared at his fingertips in the light.

Snow-white mycelium quietly began to spread outward from the fingertips, and then coagulated into a solid. He picked up the dagger and cut a thin piece.

Then he picked it up with his right hand, put it next to his mouth, nudged it forward, and bit his teeth-he decided to explore his poison.

The soft, sweet, delicious flavor-this is the first impression.

The next second, the whole world before him shook.