SGT CH131: Extra

131 if Extra: If Mousse was the one turned into a zombie

◎ No, without him, Mousse would live better ◎

Mousse was just an ordinary person, without any abilities; how could he speak in his mind?

And why did Mousse want to take the blame upon himself?

A conjecture emerged in his mind, and Aix’s face suddenly became terrifying.

“Are you being controlled by that psychic type?”

Aix nervously pulled Mousse into his arms, activating his psychic ability to check his condition.

“No, I’m not.”

Mousse denied immediately.

But Aix obviously didn’t believe it.

Slightly cool psychic energy continuously poured into his mind, protecting him layer by layer while searching for any suspicious content in his brain domain.

Mousse frowned slightly.

He wasn’t used to this feeling of his brain being invaded.

It was as if everything about him was laid bare before the other party, with no privacy existing.

Even if the other party was Aix, using the ability he was most familiar with, it still made him feel uncomfortable.

No one could reveal their entire self to another person without any qualms.

Especially since Mousse was hiding secrets.

A trace of unease rose in Mousse’s heart.

He seemed to have been pit by this psychic ability.

“Don’t…”

Mousse grabbed the clothes on Aix’s chest, wanting him to withdraw.

Aix discovered Mousse’s discomfort.

Mousse’s importance in his heart was greater than anything else.

Of course, he couldn’t continue searching for that unknown deep-hidden psychic coordinate despite Mousse’s discomfort.

Just as he was about to withdraw, his psychic ability captured a memory image.

The scene in the memory image attracted Aix’s attention, causing his thoughts to pause.

It was a scene from the graduation party.

Surrounded by many students full of youthful vigor, laughing and joking constantly.

But their faces were extremely blurred, all alike.

Aix wasn’t surprised.

This was Mousse’s memory, the world in Mousse’s eyes.

Mousse had always been a bit face-blind; he knew this.

During the period just after entering the human base, Aix almost guarded Mousse all day long, following him every step of the way.

Just afraid Mousse would mistake someone else for him and be deceived away.

Fortunately, Mousse didn’t like going out and had very little communication with everyone in the base, so the situation he worried about didn’t occur.

Aix suddenly became a little curious: what did he look like in Mousse’s eyes? Was he also a blurred face?

Or maybe worse.

After all, Mousse’s confession back then was just making fun of him.

And he deliberately took it seriously, forcefully squeezing into Mousse’s life; Mousse must be utterly sick of him.

However, when he looked at himself through Mousse’s perspective, Aix was stunned.

Everyone around was blurred as if the lens was out of focus, but he was incomparably clear.

Under the illumination of the ambient light overhead, even his eyelashes were clearly distinct one by one.

Even the old shirt, washed white and extremely shabby, was shrouded in a layer of blue ambient filter, like rippling water light in an undersea tunnel.

Quiet, peaceful, mysterious, and extremely attractive.

Making one want to approach.

“…”

This feeling was too strange.

Aix didn’t have such delicate thoughts.

He shouldn’t notice his own eyelashes, let alone pay attention to the lighting on his body, let alone feel that he was attractive.

At most, he would find his facial clarity far higher than others.

Aix suddenly realized that what he saw now was how Mousse saw him, and what he felt was what Mousse felt back then.

Mousse felt… he was very special, very attractive, and wanted to approach him.

Shocked by this realization, Aix completely forgot to react.

And amidst the jeering of surrounding students, Mousse turned over a card, then walked towards him.

The content on the card was completely within Aix’s expectation.

What surprised him was Mousse’s apprehensive yet joyful heart at this moment.

He even felt the beating of Mousse’s heart.

The closer to him, the faster it beat.

When their gazes met, it reached a peak.

“I like you, let’s date.”

In his memory, Mousse said this sentence in a joking and teasing tone, casually and insincerely.

But through Mousse’s memory, Mousse’s feelings.

He sensed the expectation and apprehension hidden under Mousse’s casual disguise.

It was like using jokes and disguise to speak out the deeply hidden expectation in his heart.

Aix hadn’t recovered from the feeling yet.

New memories were detected by his poorly constrained psychic ability.

New scenes covered everything around.

Aix recognized this was Mousse’s villa.

But not just the villa, also many surrounding scenes.

This scene was very strange; clearly Mousse’s memory, yet completely from a God’s perspective.

Like a camera suspended high in the sky filming.

No, even camera equipment couldn’t capture people and zombies in other houses.

Instead, it looked somewhat like when he used his psychic ability for detection.

Aix was puzzled.

Night fell, and he saw his own appearance.

With strong surprise and disbelief, Mousse flew downstairs and came before him.

The moment he looked up at him outside the door, many complex emotions surged in Mousse’s heart.

When Mousse embraced him, all emotions merged together, forming “love.”

Aix never thought Mousse would love him.

This embrace made Mousse touch his injured arm, and Mousse discovered his injury.

Even through clothes, Mousse “saw” his wound in his vision.

And quickly judged it was a zombie scratch.

In an instant, all emotions faded, leaving only panic and worry like falling into an ice cave.

Aix once thought Mousse’s sudden change of expression and pallor back then was scared by his wound.

Now Mousse’s memory told him it wasn’t so.

Mousse knew he was injured by a zombie, even knew the consequences of being scratched by a zombie.

But Mousse still pulled him into the house.

Clearly scared to death, he still let him sit on the sofa, found the medicine kit, and cleaned his wound.

Even the fear in his heart wasn’t fear of him hurting him after losing reason, but fear of him turning into a zombie, fear of him dying.

Afterward, he decided to clear the zombies gathered outside the villa.

Mousse went with him.

Mousse walked on him; invisible threads extended from Mousse, bypassed him, poured into the zombies’ bodies, binding them layer by layer, making their movements slow as if they were stiff wooden stakes.

Aix confirmed completely.

It was psychic ability.

Mousse possessed a psychic ability!

But, Mousse’s performance over these years was clearly just an ordinary person without ability.

If Mousse really possessed a psychic ability, and could use the ability so freely just at the beginning of the apocalypse.

How could Mousse depend on him?

Inexplicably, strong panic rose in Aix’s heart.

The night grew deeper.

Through Mousse’s perspective, Aix saw himself develop a high fever and fall unconscious.

Mousse sat by the bed guarding him for a long time.

Finally, brought a knife from the kitchen.

When Mousse stood by his bed holding the knife, the reluctant yet determined emotion was transmitted to him through Mousse’s perception.

Aix actually breathed a sigh of relief.

Mousse intended to kill him.

Good, good.

Staying in the same room with someone infected by the zombie virus and gradually mutating was simply too dangerous; Mousse should have made up his mind to act sooner.

But… he didn’t die.

Aix suddenly froze.

He didn’t die, and lived until now.

Did Mousse’s heart soften in the end? Or did he successfully awaken and stop the mutation before Mousse acted?

Just as Aix was wondering, he saw Mousse pick up the knife and cut his own wrist.

Aix’s eyes were about to split open; he pounced wanting to stop it.

But he was just a wisp of consciousness, a wisp of consciousness observing Mousse’s past memories.

He could do nothing.

Aix thought of the scar on Mousse’s left wrist.

All this had already happened…

Blood, dazzlingly red, flowed over the fair skin, running down the wrist.

A transparent crystal nucleus was exposed from the wound.

Aix suddenly realized something.

“No, no!”

Aix panicked wanting to hold down Mousse’s hand, but could only watch helplessly as Mousse took out the crystal nucleus and put it into the already blackened wound on his chest.

The entire memory world shook violently.

This represented Mousse’s mental instability.

He saw Mousse swaying, almost falling to the ground.

Also saw himself on the bed gradually looking better, the blackness at the chest wound fading.

The memory image went completely black amidst violent shaking and chaotic trance.

…

“Aix? Aix!”

Mousse raised his hand and waved it in front of Aix’s eyes, alternating hands.

Starting from just now, Aix suddenly stopped moving, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in thought.

If not for the intuition that there were no psychic types in the world anymore, Mousse would really suspect he was attacked by some hidden psychic type.

Aix abruptly came back to his senses and suddenly grasped Mousse’s hand.

His finger pad touched the scar on Mousse’s wrist.

Mousse struggled subconsciously.

His struggle wasn’t big, but Aix reacted violently, withdrawing his hand and retreating, as if touching something terrifying.

Doubts arose in Mousse’s heart.

Looking up at Aix in puzzlement.

Only to see Aix staring blankly at his hand, his lip color terribly pale, his body trembling slightly, but his eyes very red.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?”

Mousse looked worried.

Aix raised his hand wanting to hug him, but stopped just before touching his shoulder, fingertips curled trembling, silently withdrawing his hand.

“The psychic crystal nucleus in my body, my psychic ability… is yours.”

This was a statement.

Not a question.

Mousse was silent for a moment.

Long ago, he had also fantasized that Aix would one day discover the truth, and then treat him better and love him more amidst guilt and touched feelings.

After a long time, he never thought about it again.

When Aix suddenly mentioned it, Mousse realized that he actually didn’t want to see Aix guilty.

“It used to be mine; I gave it to someone who needed it more.”

Mousse raised the corner of his mouth and smiled at him.

“I don’t regret my choice; it exchanged you back for me. If I had to do it again, I would still do that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Aix’s eyes were filled with grief, unable to continue speaking.

If Mousse had an ability, he wouldn’t need to depend on anyone.

If Mousse had an ability, he wouldn’t have been injured by that zombie…

Even if this would cost Aix his life, Aix didn’t feel there was anything bad about it.

At the beginning of the apocalypse, Mousse was adept at using psychic ability.

Even without him, Mousse could live very well.

No.

Without him, Mousse would live better.

It was he who deprived Mousse of his possibilities.

It was he who plundered Mousse’s future that should have been brilliant.

Support me on Ko-fi