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Parasyte: Yuki, Fleur S.

"I've never once thought that zombies would be deadly; Yet here I am deadlier" Yuki Fleur is a first-year college student, studying fine arts and design, in the country of New Zealand. Little did she expect that, by the time she had woken up, the world had turned into ruins from a certain virus-parasitic epidemic. Contagious, deadly, rabid, these characteristics are thoroughly described by none other than Wattson Claire and Turner Andrew, one of the few scientists who played a big part on the experiment produced as bio-weapons for the modern-global war, from a secret organisation called ‘S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’ Bitten by a zombie, right across her hind, she was exiled from her group due to her alarming risk for turning into one of them. Despite her ruptured flesh, she manages to swiftly avoid multiple obstacles, defying death itself, and fortunately survives, and saved from the hands of Grey Turner, the son of Andrew Turner, inside an abandoned house. She then becomes immune from the parasitic fungi/virus inside her cells and overturned her twisted rabid state due to her abnormal cells. Will Fleur and Grey be able to produce a complex vaccine out from her DNA, or fail from the mutated monsters lurking in the shadows? ***Parasyte: Yuki, Fleur S., and Parasyte: Turner, Grey B. are interconnected stories. In this novel, you'll experience the adventure of the little girl who's ridiculously lucky enough to survive the onslaught of the undead. She's more on the funny side than Grey, the main protagonist in his world. Let's unravel the mysteries of the world infested with undead monsters. We'll learn how to love, laugh, smile, cry, which also has a lot of Yuri (GirlxGirl) fantasies- *cough* Please enjoy reading the novel~ -Original Artwork by Cr4sh4rT Facebook link page: https://www.facebook.com/Cr4sh4rt.ngocnam/?ref=page_internal Gmail: cr4sh4rt@gmail.com -Original PHOTOGRAPH

kuhaku_sora · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
187 Chs

Dione, Miles

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"2041, was the day they have first spotted the unknown entity known as the undead, classified as type-Zx, from the nearby lake located across the renowned laboratory of New York--directed by the three major scientists: Dr. James, Mrs. Wattson, and lastly Dr. Turner. They were hailed as the modern geniuses, diamonds of humankind even, obtaining an IQ equivalent of 260+ each individual'. All their life, it had always been a walk to the park, publishing outstanding articles, researches, and scientific discoveries hand-in-hand, which the whole world was purely ignorant about. They were also circumstances that these researchers provided charities and such and thus were claimed the Newest Heroes of the World.

Previously from before, they have reached the pinnacles of their work; the recreation of the human cells—via regeneration, enhancement, and even resuscitating the dead nuclei inhabiting the body. It can furthermore cure numerous cancer cells and futuristic diseases that every health association could have ever wish for. But…

Their masterful plan had taken a turn and tremendously failed, consequently labeling experiment number 01, Jean Newton, as 'deceased'. Being unable to achieve their goal, without further harming the ethics of a model scientist, they were left with no other choice but to abandon their work.

However, the damage dealt had already been accumulated and spread throughout the world, from the parasitic plant known as the Ophiocordyceps unilateralis, being destructive and unstable. Hence, the survivors who had been given the chance to tell their tale had named the treacherous species as "Ophio" derived from the forsaken word of the evil itself, forevermore mutating to this very day."

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"Fleur, are you there?" A voice of a young man entered the room, seemingly locating my tranquil presence.

I was asked to isolate myself inside the VIP lounge when a great storm had hit our sails. We've ventured quite a short distance, yet the thunderous clap of the cumulonimbus clouds kept trailing greyer, louder, and bigger at the ticking second. It is unfortunate as if death itself wanted me around.

"Just writing a diary. You'll never know whom it could reach, right? What would happen if one of us dies during the matter?"

Presuming I was inside, Clinton pulls up the switch illuminating the once dimmed room. There, he slowly crept deeper toward the bedroom's door but only to find out a lump of 'something' stationed at the bed, covered with a thick navy blue blanket.

The rocking motion of the floor shook the equilibrium of Clinton's two feet that made him stumbled out of balance on the ground, falling over at the side of my bed while gripping aside my warm fuzzy blanket.

I was indeed indulged in writing a diary from my pocketbook held by my hands. Despite the unlit bulbs inside my room, I was kind of gifted of genetically having extraordinary eyesight that enables me to perceive images slightly clearer in the dark.

After picking himself up, he then peers right through me and gave me a confusing look that I was able to scribble down what I've had in mind under the dark matter of the abyss (my room).

Explaining wasn't my best suit, so I went and told him that I was more comfortable having these lights turned off for me to do my 'things'.

With a passive grunt, he accepted my situation. He then announces that the dinner was ready in the dining hall, and eventually exited the frame. I on the other didn't have the appetite to eat...

But I soon found myself once again being brought by my magical body, eagerly wanting to digest some grub after a long contemplating work.

The dining department is located either outside the lively pubs or deeper confined on the second floor, just below our VIP rooms.

Clinton has not mentioned that appointed location of the diner that I was ought to go, which, was apparently…at the latter? Nevertheless, my guess had hit the nail and here I am reassuring myself that I too needed a quick break from the aftermath of words spiraling my domain.

The dining room was no different from a five-star hotel that caters exquisite dishes on the silver platters, ready to be served. Farther from the room, 10 diligent chefs could be seen working frivolously, serving at least hundreds of dishes every meal. It was a blessing that the boat had also been restocked by Rogh even before we had joined the cruise. But, as the captain had mentioned during the meeting that the supplies will eventually wear out in a month, moreover the fuel needed to run the ship's steams.

"Fleur, come and join us!" in the middle of the crowd, I saw Venice waving her hands towards my direction, offering me a seat.

"Coming!" I replied in the most moderate tone I could harness, not wanting to alert the buzzing crowd enjoying their meals.

"Thank you"

"I was the who cooked your meal" Venice takes out a tray, handed down by a nearby waitress, which was filled with varieties of seemingly nutritious and colorful meals, and gently passes it over to my side. Without further restraints, I took the nearest utensils beside and gobbled up the rest of the meat from left to right.

"By the way, where's Paul and Clinton? He was the one who had invited me over" I asked, still devouring the leftovers of my main course. A curious waitress, who has served my dish, approaches our table and offers us a delightful dessert.

"Madame, here's your supreme cheesecakes, freshly made!"

"Apologies, but we didn't ord—"

"Relax, Venice. Uhm, thank you, kind lady"

The waitress's placed an oddly looking saucer in the centre of our table. She carefully lifted the covers, revealing a massive round scarlet cheesecake. Beholding its presence, me and Venice couldn't help but drool over the king-sized dessert.

"It didn't earn the 'supreme' title for nothing now, did it?" kidding aside, I soon sliced off the tender cake using a thin-bladed knife and gently saw it in motion, and steadily dropping it off on my watery plate. Venice did the same, as she too was mesmerised from the free… I mean, elaborate designs of the simple appetising cuisine.

"TASTY!" the soft and tender warmth of the whipped cream scattered inside my mouth. Every crunch from the graham cracker crumbs melted the smallest substance of the cheese itself, slowly enveloping my delicate taste buds into skirmishes of delight. Even my nostrils that can perceive the sweetly scented aroma touches down the tips of my lungs, clearly the scent of haven and 'Twas the work of God.

"Hmm, not bad" The choice of words that had come out from Venice was a bit bland and lacking but…I'll forgives her this time. After all, presently enjoying our bountiful prize is our current priority.

"Agh~"

Oh no.

"Y-You're moaning, Venice"

I tried to warn Venice, who had been completely devoured from the breath-taking chunks of the cheesy looking cake. Undeniably speaking, the cake had turned into one of the greatest masterpieces of mankind that had ever forced men and women to lustfully enjoy the sugary noshed made by the finest cooks of the seas.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it"

I replied towards the anonymous voice from behind, approaching us at a steady pace. A young girl, dressed in an adorable white sailor uniform, twirls around elegantly across our table. The crowd had formed, even circling the show.

"Uh, pardon? Who are you?" I asked, after pinching myself from the youthful presence of the lass.

"Yahoo~ I'm Dione Miles, nice to meet you ^^" The mischievous girl jumps around as she introduces her name, and throws out a…cute (?) peace sign pose.

Her uniform reminds me of the famous anime I have watched, despite her ribbons being designed quite differently from what I had imagined. She was also wearing yellow opera gloves that protect her from the cold chilling breeze amid the howling seas. Her hair flutters from the evening gush, as she dances around swiftly like a ballet. And of course, I mercilessly judge her round dignified chest that bounces off comparably like balloons floating from above.

"DO YOU LOVE MY CAKE?!" Her vocals coincide with her immature demeanour, which reverberates inside the room that even the random crowd watching from a distance had hurriedly run far far away from the outskirts, exiling themselves in their soundproof rooms.

I, Venice, and Dione were the only ones left inside the hall. And with her gritted teeth awaiting my reply, I couldn't help but gulped the remaining dribbles back inside my horrific body.

"Yes. It's delightful. Can you please tone it down?" I asked GENTLY, and softly, as possible. But…

A loud cry followed suit from the girl whom I had wished I've never met.

Well, at least I have cake~

and, uh, Venice... You might want to look around.

"The what? Oh, hello!"

Stupefied, I slowly borrowed my body and slid it under the table, heaving a sigh.