What do you mean the games you make are all real?!

Chapter 92 The Continued Spread of the Zombie Virus (4800)

Off the coast of Japan, a transport ship, with its engines off, drifts quietly on the shimmering sea.

Not far away, an ordinary medium-sized fishing boat was casting its nets in the nearby waters, and the crew members were busy dragging the heavy fishing nets onto the deck.

As one of the crew members, Yasuo Akiyama, straightened up to wipe his sweat, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the motionless ship in the distance.

"Hey, look at that ship. Something's weird. Why isn't it moving?" Akiyama Yasuo said, pointing at the ship.

The other crew members who were dragging fishing nets onto the deck also stopped what they were doing and looked in the direction that Yasuo Akiyama was pointing.

The ship had a deep draft and its hull rested steadily on the sea surface, clearly indicating that it was not empty. A flag of the Northern Alliance was flying on the hull, fluttering slightly in the sea breeze. Most importantly, the ship made no sound of its engine running.

"Why are ships from the Northern Alliance here?" a crew member muttered.

The relationship between Fusang and the Northern Federation is not good, and there are not many ships traveling between them. Moreover, even if there are, they will take the specially designated international shipping lanes, and this sea area is obviously not within the scope of the shipping lanes.

"And why isn't the engine running yet? Is it out of fuel?" someone else said.

"Could it be that it has broken down?" another crew member said, putting away the rope knot in his hand.

"Could they be pirates?" A young crew member gripped his harpoon tightly, somewhat nervously. This was his first time on a ship and he had already encountered something like this.

"It can't be pirates. This place is so close to the coastline, what pirate would dare to operate in this area?"

Captain Kengo Matsuzaki poked his head out of the cockpit, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth. He glanced at the cargo ship in the distance, his brow furrowed, and spoke.

"They might be here to steal fish. Let's grab our gear and go check it out."

In the past two years, fishing boats from the Northern Federation have frequently come to the waters off Fusang to fish. He had encountered them twice before, and there had even been disputes when they were driven away. However, this was the first time he had seen a transport ship come to steal fish.

Upon hearing the captain's words, everyone grabbed their weapons: harpoons, clubs, and several long knives for cutting fishing nets.

This sea area is the livelihood of their ancestors for generations, how can they let outsiders touch it?

The fishing boat quickly approached the transport ship. But as they got closer, Captain Matsuzaki Kengo felt the ship was strangely eerie.

The ship was so quiet, there was no engine noise, no radio response, and no sign of any crew moving on the deck, like a ghost ship that had been abandoned for a long time.

Seeing this, Kengo Matsuzaki climbed back into the cabin and picked up the walkie-talkie: "This is the Maruyama. Suspicious transport ship spotted, bearing northeast, about half a nautical mile away. Assistance needed."

Medium-sized fishing boats like theirs that fish in coastal waters usually go out to sea in groups of several, keeping a distance of several nautical miles from each other and maintaining contact at all times via walkie-talkie.

These fishing boats are very united and will not hesitate to help other fishing boats when they need it. After all, the sea is not like the land. Wind, waves, reefs, and sudden malfunctions can all be deadly. Only by looking out for each other can the chances of returning alive be greater.

Shortly after the message was sent, several fishing boats in the vicinity responded and began to move closer.

Seeing the approaching red dots on the radar, Kengo Matsuzaki breathed a sigh of relief.

If that boat was there to steal fish, having so many fishing boats going together should be able to successfully drive it away.

If they just run out of fuel, they can sell the fuel to the people on board at a high price. This transport ship is quite large. The spare fuel of one fishing boat is definitely not enough, but it is about enough if several boats pool their resources.

If it were just an empty boat without anyone on board, that would be even better. The cargo might still be there. His fishing boat couldn't hold that much cargo, but he could share it with the other boats around him. Who knows when he'd have such a good opportunity again?

Kengo Matsuzaki had a well-thought-out plan. Whether it was fish poachers, anchored fish, or abandoned fish, he had a way to deal with them. He had been in this area for nearly thirty years, and he didn't believe there was anything he couldn't handle.

Soon, Kengo Matsuzaki saw four fishing boats appear in the surrounding sea; they were all brought there by him.

Seeing reinforcements arriving, Kengo Matsuzaki no longer hesitated and continued to sail closer, while the other four ships formed a circle and surrounded the transport ship.

The fishing boat drew closer, now less than fifty meters from the ghost ship. The sea breeze was blowing directly from the cargo ship toward the fishing boat, filling everyone's nostrils with a powdery substance.

"What is this?!" a crew member said, sneezing several times and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

Several crew members around him sneezed at the same time. Kengo Matsuzaki rubbed his suddenly itchy nose, but didn't think much of it. He picked up the walkie-talkie and started shouting at the transport ship.

"The ship ahead! This is the Japanese fishing vessel Maruyama! You have entered Japan's exclusive economic zone! Please state your purpose!"

6"

no respond.

The deck of the transport ship remained deserted; not even a single person could be seen moving about.

Kengo Matsuzaki frowned and called out again, "Repeat it! Please state your purpose!"

Still no response.

Standing on the deck, Yasuo Akiyama looked at the ship and felt a chill run down his spine.

He didn't know why, but he just felt that something was off about the ship; there was something about it that made him instinctively want to get away from it.

"Captain! Could something really have happened? I see a lot of moss growing on that deck? And there seem to be mushrooms too!" He turned and shouted towards the cockpit.

It is indeed a bit unbelievable that mushrooms grow on fishing boats. If it were a wooden fishing boat from decades ago, it would be understandable for mushrooms to grow on wood that has been soaked in seawater for a long time. But now the hulls of boats are all metal, so where can mushrooms grow from?

Moreover, the salt fog formed by the sea breeze will destroy the growth environment of all mycelia, making it even more absurd than growing rice in the desert to grow mushrooms on the deck.

Kengo Matsuzaki stepped out of the cockpit, leaned on the railing of the ship's side, and carefully examined the transport ship ahead.

Akiyama Yasuo was right. The deck and sides of the ship were indeed covered with a grayish-white substance that looked like moss, but the color was not quite right; it was more like some kind of fungus.

"It's a ship from the North, so it's normal for mushrooms to grow on the hull if it's not well maintained."

Kengo Matsuzaki had seen mushrooms grow on ships before, so he wasn't surprised. In fact, some deep-sea fishing boats would even dedicate a room in their cabins to growing mushrooms in order to supplement their vegetable supply.

However, despite saying that, his brows remained furrowed. He had seen them before, but he had never seen so many, especially growing on the deck. Could it be that the mushrooms in the cultivation tank had spread out?

"Let's get a little closer and go up to take a look."

The fishing boat moved forward again, and the distance between the two boats was reduced to about ten meters. Matsuzaki Kengo had someone throw the cable over, and a crew member with good skills swung it hard, and the end of the cable accurately caught the iron stake on the side of the transport ship.

Then they pulled the ropes and tied the fishing boat and the transport ship together side by side. Four other fishing boats also came over and were connected to the transport ship.

Kengo Matsuzaki grabbed the handrail of the gangway and was the first to climb up. Yasuo Akiyama hesitated for a moment and then followed. There were three other crew members behind him, each holding a harpoon or a stick.

Crew members from other fishing boats on the other sides also climbed aboard, and suddenly there were many more people on the deck. The moment Matsuzaki Kengo stepped onto the transport ship's deck, he felt a strange sensation under his feet.

It wasn't the hardness and coldness that a metal deck should have, but rather a slightly soft feeling, like stepping on a thick carpet.

He glanced down and saw that the deck surface was covered with a layer of grayish-white mycelium-like material. In some places, the metal plates underneath were visible, while in others, it had piled up into a layer of velvet several centimeters high.

"What is this thing?" A crew member behind him kicked the layer of mycelium with his toe.

Kengo Matsuzaki did not answer. His gaze swept across the entire deck of the ship, from bow to stern, everywhere was covered with this grayish-white mycelium. The railings on the ship's side, the gaps in the containers, and the exits of the ventilation ducts were all covered with the same color.

The air was filled with an indescribable smell, a mixture of musty and the stench of decaying plants, making one's stomach churn.

"Spread out and check if anyone's in the cockpit. Watch your step," Kengo Matsuzaki said in a low voice.

He felt a tickle in his throat as he spoke, as if he had inhaled some tiny particles, and couldn't help but clear his throat.

The crew began to search the ship from different angles, while the captain of another fishing boat next to them climbed up the gangway, walked over and patted Matsuzaki Kengo on the shoulder, his tone filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"Matsuzaki-kun, it seems there's no one on this ship! I just checked those containers; they're definitely full of goods. If we can bring all this back, we'll make a fortune!"

"Yes, it looks like it's our turn to make a fortune!" The captains of the other ships also climbed aboard one after another, their eyes shining as they looked at the neatly arranged containers on the deck.

Regardless of what's inside, just the tonnage of this transport ship and the number of containers mean the goods inside could fetch a considerable sum.

Just then, a crew member exclaimed in surprise. He pried open the lock of one of the containers and pulled open the door. Inside, there was a whole box full of brand-new virtual reality headsets.

"We're going to be rich!" Everyone around exclaimed in unison upon seeing this.

A virtual reality headset is not cheap. If all these containers are filled with virtual reality headsets, the value of this shipment is beyond their wildest imagination.

Kengo Matsuzaki gave a somewhat forced smile. He wasn't happy about making a lot of money. This ship was too strange, and he didn't know if his decision to bring so many people aboard was right or wrong.

He started walking towards the cabin. Whether he could make money from this shipment depended on whether there were any survivors on board.

However, seeing the crew members around him so excited that they were almost frenzied, Kengo Matsuzaki felt a little uneasy.

Even if there were still survivors on board, these crew members, blinded by their windfall, might ultimately choose to kill them to cover their tracks. Dealing with such matters at sea is too easy; just throw the bodies into the sea, and there's no need to even dig a grave.

He wanted to see if there was anyone inside. If there was, perhaps those who were still alive could hide and escape this disaster.

The cabin was filled with mushrooms, far more than on the deck. The walls on both sides of the corridor were covered with a thick layer of mycelium, and the mycelium on the ceiling hung down like stalactites, swaying gently with the rocking of the ship.

Some mushrooms had caps as big as washbasins, and the edges of the caps were still swaying slightly with the sea breeze. Each sway would spray out a small clump of extremely fine grayish-white powder from the folds under the cap.

Kengo Matsuzaki covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, walked around the mushrooms, and continued forward. At the end of the corridor was a hatch leading to the lower deck. The hatch was open, and the mushrooms on the door frame grew exceptionally lushly, almost completely obscuring the entire doorway.

Kengo Matsuzaki entered the nearest cabin and scanned it with his flashlight. The room was small, with two bunk beds against the wall. The bedding on the beds was completely covered by mycelium, and only human-shaped protrusions could be barely seen underneath.

He bent down and lifted the blanket covering the lower bunk, which was completely covered by mycelium. There was a person lying under the blanket.

No, it should be said that under the blanket lay something that used to be a person.

The thing was covered in grayish-white mycelium, and its skin was covered with mushrooms of different sizes. Some mushrooms had stems that protruded from their eye sockets, pushing the eyeballs onto their cheeks. Some mushrooms grew out of their open mouths, with caps that spread out two rows of teeth.

Kengo Matsuzaki gasped.

He had seen people die at sea, drown after being swept into the sea by storms, have their hands and feet severed by steel cables in shipwrecks, and die in bed after falling ill on ocean-going fishing vessels without receiving timely medical treatment.

But he had never seen such a death before, his whole body covered in mushrooms, yet it felt somewhat familiar.

"This is fucking—" Kengo Matsuzaki's voice trembled.

He finally remembered the blurry footage he had seen online of the streets of Kabukicho, showing undead people covered in mushrooms chasing and biting passersby.

He turned abruptly and rushed out of the cabin, shouting into the corridor as he ran, "Run! Everyone run! Get back to the ship!"

There are zombies on this ship!

Before he could finish his last word, he saw the half-closed cabin door at the end of the corridor be violently kicked open.

A spore zombie burst out from behind the door, followed by a second, a third, and a fourth. They poured out of the cabins on both sides of the corridor, spreading across the narrow passage like a swarm of disturbed ants.

Without hesitation, Kengo Matsuzaki turned around and ran desperately in the direction he had come from.

His lungs were burning intensely, and large amounts of the grayish-white spore powder were inhaled into his respiratory tract as he ran, causing his throat to itch and hurt.

When he finally rushed out of the cabin entrance and returned to the outer deck, the scene before him froze him in place.

The deck was in complete chaos, with spore zombies appearing from nowhere and tearing apart the unprepared crew members.

Some people started jumping into the sea and swimming desperately towards their fishing boats. Kengo Matsuzaki also ran directly to the side of the boat and jumped back into his own fishing boat.

After returning to his boat, he did not hesitate at all, cut the rope, and without caring whether there were any crew members left, started the engine and drove towards the coastline.

The spore zombies did not jump into the sea; after watching the five departing ships sail away, they returned to their cabins.

Kengo Matsuzaki watched the ghostly transport ship grow smaller and smaller behind him until it disappeared completely on the horizon, and then let out a long sigh of relief.

But he kept the accelerator floored, wanting to get back to shore as quickly as possible, to leave this area of ​​water, and to get as far away from that ghost ship as possible.

But soon he felt itchy all over. At first, it was just a small patch of skin on his arm that was itchy, and he scratched it casually.

Take it seriously.

But the itching began to spread, from my arms to my chest, from my chest to my back, then to my neck, and finally to my cheeks.

He lifted his clothes and saw that grayish-white mycelium had also grown on his stomach.

The hyphae emerged from the pores of his skin, like a layer of constantly growing mold.

He tried to pull it out with his hand. After the hyphae were broken, a small drop of dark red blood seeped out of the pore. But a few seconds later, new hyphae sprouted out of the same pore again, longer and denser than before.

He tried desperately to pull them out, but one crop would grow back after he pulled them out; he could never finish pulling them out.

The fishing boat continued to head towards the coastline at top speed. Even when it was only a few meters away from the shore, it still crashed into the shore and broke apart.

With only a sliver of consciousness remaining, Kengo Matsuzaki emerged from the cabin and staggered forward.

This kind of thing didn't just happen in Japan. During the time that transport ship was drifting aimlessly at sea, it encountered far more vessels than just those few small fishing boats.

Inside the transport ship, there was a huge mass of mycelial flesh that had swelled to the point of almost filling the entire hold.

It resembles a beating heart, its surface covered with dense, grayish-green mycelium. With each movement, a thick cloud of spores is ejected from the gaps in the mycelium, filling the sealed cabin.

These spores would drift toward ships passing by the transport vessels, and one after another, ships parasitized by the spores would enter ports in different countries.

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