Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]

Chapter 297: Chapter 298 - The spy

Sunlight leaked in through the windows, soft and golden. Yunfeng was already up and outside, dragging burned scrap and twisted metal out of the yard. Muchen stood nearby with a wet cloth in one hand and a grim expression as he silently helped.

Inside, the kitchen stirred to life. Zei was slouched at the table groaning about his sore limbs while Lu Zhi was attempting to make toast with shaky hands and sleepy eyes. The others filtered in one by one, all looking like they hadn’t slept enough—except for Yuki.

Yuki walked in, barefoot and wrapped in her oversized hoodie. The monkey was perched on her shoulder, little paws playing with a loose thread in her sleeve. Her face was innocent, eyes wide, yawning as she blinked around the room like any sleepy child would.

”Morning, Yuki,” Hana said from the kitchen counter. She looked exhausted, her hair tied up in a loose messy bun. ”You want cereal or eggs today?”

”Cereal,” Yuki answered with a small voice, rubbing her eyes.

”Alright. Sit down, I’ll bring it to you in a minute,” Hana said with a smile.

Yuki sat down quietly at the far end of the table and watched. Her eyes lingered on Hana longer than usual. She didn’t smile.

Guilt twisted in her chest again.

She shouldn’t feel anything. Not for Hana, not for any of them. But the warmth that girl showed... the way she shielded Yuki from noise, gave her the bigger portion of rice when food was short, even gave her a tiny stuffed keychain to clip on her bag weeks ago just because ”it looked like you.” It hurt.

It hurt worse every time she carried out her task.

Yuki’s gaze slipped down to her own hands. The small keychain hung from the strap of her monkey’s arm. A nondescript charm shaped like a donut, pale pink and faded with wear. No one would ever guess that inside, sealed in a hidden groove, was a concentrated capsule of the some testing drug.

And every morning, she administered it the same way. Not in food—that was too risky with so many variations. Instead, she had found something better.

The dishwasher.

Each night, when dishes were piled into the machine and water loaded into the tank, Yuki would wait until everyone was asleep, sneak in with her charm open and a tiny smear of the drug pressed into the plastic seal around the upper spray arm. When the wash cycle began, the heat would activate the compound and it would bind to the ceramic and plastic dishes, leaving a harmless-looking residue behind.

From there, every meal was a quiet dose.

Even the bottles of drinking water—Yuki had made sure they passed through the machine. She rotated them when she had to. It wasn’t foolproof, but it worked. So far, no one suspected a thing.

”Here you go,” Hana said, setting the bowl in front of her.

Yuki looked up quickly, startled out of her thoughts.

”Thank you...” she said, trying her best to sound sweet.

Hana gave her a pat on the head and walked off to get her own meal.

Yuki lowered her eyes again. Her fingers reached up and lightly brushed the monkey’s ear. It had started to fray. She’d have to stitch it back soon. Maybe Hana would help her sew it. The thought made her feel sick.

She didn’t eat for a while.

Just sat there, poking at the cereal, her mind full of thoughts she shouldn’t have.

Morning went by and soon it was lunch.

Lunch was a mellow affair.

Zei was dramatically complaining about the lack of hot sauce. ”Seriously, how am I supposed to eat this bland boiled chicken? I’m losing flavor in my soul,” he groaned.

”We literally have more seasoning than food right now,” Muchen muttered, pulling apart a piece of chicken with practiced fingers. He passed half to Yunfeng, who accepted it with a nod of thanks and a faint smile.

”I liked it,” Lu Zhi mumbled, cheeks full. ”Kinda reminds me of the meals we used to have in the barracks.”

”See, someone appreciates my cooking,” Hana chimed in, jabbing Zei in the side with her elbow as she stacked the empty plates. ”Now help me clean up or I’m going to dump this on your head.”

Zei grumbled but moved to help, dragging his feet dramatically while Yuki trailed behind Hana, holding a small stack of bowls with both arms.

”No running now,” Hana reminded gently, glancing over her shoulder.

”I know,” Yuki mumbled, clutching the bowls to her chest.

They all shuffled around the kitchen in their usual post-meal chaos. Someone knocked over a cup. Someone else was humming off-key. It felt like any other safe, warm, midday moment shared by people trying to hold onto their peace.

But behind that façade, Yuki’s fingers were tense.

When everyone got distracted by Zei’s attempt to wash a greasy pan with cold water, she slipped over to the dishwasher. She popped it open and placed the bowls inside, setting them neatly in the top rack. The others were too busy bickering to notice.

With swift, silent precision, she pulled the charm off her keychain—the faded donut one. Underneath the squishy silicone top, the small compartment clicked open. Her fingers trembled only a little as she pressed the tiny amount of residue from inside against the rubber lining of the dishwasher door seal—right where the steam and water would pool during the rinse cycle.

It would bind again. Not enough to poison. Just enough to weaken.

Just like every time before.

She clicked it shut. Turned. Left the charm dangling innocently again. Quiet as a ghost.

Unseen.

Or so she thought.

In the hallway outside the kitchen, a flicker of light shimmered faintly in the air—barely visible to human eyes. A translucent figure floated just above the wooden floorboards, moving weightlessly like mist. He had no physical voice, no solid form... but he had his mind. And what he had seen made his pulseless form tighten.

Grandpa Kailun—still existing in his ghostlike projection state, mostly unseen, mostly unheard—had been watching.

And now, he moved.

The moment Yuki turned her back, Kailun’s form floated away.

By the time the dishwasher clicked shut and the rest of the dishes were being wiped and stacked, Kailun was already drawing himself back.

His ghostly form, which had hovered just beyond the kitchen archway, flickered—his transparent limbs wavered, and slowly, like smoke sucked back into a lantern, his astral projection streamed across the quiet halls and returned to his physical body. The old man was lying down on a futon, eyes closed, chest rising in faint, steady breaths.

As soon as the last wisps of light faded into him, Kailun’s fingers twitched. Then his eyes snapped open.

He sat up instantly, face stony.

He didn’t hesitate.

Down the hall, Yunfeng was in the back room cleaning his gear. He was kneeling on the floor with a half-burnt jacket folded beside him, fingering the seams where fabric had melted from last night’s flames. When the door creaked open, he glanced back.

”Kailun?” he asked, blinking. ”Didn’t think you’d be up already.”

Kailun stepped inside with a firm expression, closing the door behind him. His tone was quiet but sharp.

”She’s the one,” he said flatly.

Yunfeng froze, eyes narrowing. ”...Who?”

”The girl,” Kailun said, crossing his arms. ”Yuki. I saw her with my own eyes during projection. She placed something in the dishwasher—some kind of drug hidden inside a charm. I don’t know what exactly it is, but it’s been happening for days.”

Yunfeng sat completely still. The only sound was the wind outside brushing against the boards of the house.

”You’re sure?” he asked after a moment, voice low.

Kailun nodded once. ”I watched every movement. She hid it like she’d done it a hundred times. Slipped it in just before the rinse cycle. Very subtle. Not a mistake.”

Yunfeng leaned back, expression unreadable. His fingers curled slightly on the floor.

”...She doesn’t look like a spy,” he said.

”She’s scared,” Kailun admitted, ”but she’s precise. That’s not something a random kid does on instinct. Someone taught her.”

There was a long silence.

”I didn’t confront her,” the old man added. ”Didn’t seem like the time. But I thought you should know.”

Yunfeng nodded slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. ”You did the right thing.”

His mind was racing. The headaches, the sudden weaknesses, the slow decline in their powers—even Zei’s complaints. If the food and water were tainted even lightly, it would explain everything. But the girl... Yuki... she had never shown any signs. Always clinging to Hana, always shy and quiet and—

Yunfeng shut his eyes for a second.

”She’s not doing this of her own will,” he said at last.

Kailun didn’t disagree. ”But she’s still doing it.”

”Exactly,” Yunfeng murmured. ”And if we scare her now, she’ll shut down or panic. I want to see who she’s talking to. There’s no way she’s not sending out messages.”

”You want to use her.”

”I want to catch whoever’s behind her.” Yunfeng stood up, brushing dust off his knees. ”This drug, it has to be part of something bigger. If we play this right, we end it without any more blood.”

He headed for the door, pausing just before he stepped out.

”No one else knows yet?”

”No. Just us.”

”Good. Keep it that way.” Yunfeng’s voice was quiet but firm. ”Until we know exactly who’s pulling her strings, I want her close. I’ll monitor her.”