The feeling of turning into a werewolf

The Long-Tongued Fiend

Through the mirror, Yan Feng noticed a dense cluster of small black dots on his scalp, as if his hair was starting to grow again.

“What is this…”

His expression froze, and soon he felt a strange reaction from every pore in his body, like tiny insects crawling out from within. Immediately after, his teeth, fingers, and toes began to ache in varying degrees.

Moments later, his body started to tremble uncontrollably, and he collapsed naked onto the floor.

What followed was nothing short of miraculous.

His teeth, nails, hair, beard—every strand of body hair—began to grow at a visible speed.

During this time, his face contorted in pain, his mouth slightly agape, emitting strange, guttural sounds. His entire body curled into a trembling ball.

After about ten minutes, Yan Feng lay sprawled on the cold floor, panting heavily, as though his last ounce of strength had drained away. His muscles finally relaxed—though, curiously, a certain flag remained defiantly raised.

At this moment, he entered a peculiar state.

It felt as if he were submerged underwater, able to hear his own heartbeat. The thin walls of the building did little to block the sounds from upstairs and downstairs, which now reached his ears with clarity.

Aunt Cui and her husband had just gone to bed, discussing the recent disappearance of Youfu.

Aunt Cui mentioned that during her search for Youfu earlier in the day, she learned several pets—cats, dogs, and others—had gone missing in the neighborhood, and none had been found yet.

Her husband found the situation odd and said they should report it to the police the next day.

Each floor of the building had three suites with a balcony. On the third floor, aside from Yan Feng, there was a married couple and a female streamer.

The husband was in the construction materials business, and the wife worked as a sales assistant in a mobile phone shop.

Yan Feng could hear the man’s heavy breathing and the woman’s incessant moaning, punctuated by the irregular rhythm of their movements.

The couple seemed to have a passionate relationship, and Yan Feng often overheard their energetic exchanges when he returned from late-night shifts.

As for the female streamer, her name was Yan Qiaorong, twenty-six years old, four years younger than Yan Feng.

She was beautiful, with a gentle and graceful demeanor, and a stunning figure. She had once worked as a hostess at a nearby nightclub, only transitioning to live streaming the year before.

She seemed to be streaming a singing session, her sultry voice filled the air, stirring restlessness in those who heard it.

But what astonished Yan Feng most was that not only could he hear everything, but he could also faintly smell the occupants.

Especially Yan Qiaorong’s room, which was suffused with a delicate fragrance that was incredibly pleasant.

It was nighttime, and the room was unlit.

When Yan Feng opened his eyes, he realized he could see everything clearly, almost as if it were daytime, save for the slightly dimmer hues. Even the moonlight pouring through the window seemed as bright as sunlight.

“What is happening? Why have my senses become so acute?”

Muttering to himself, he sat up and turned to the mirror, only to be startled by the eerie pair of eyes staring back at him.

“My eyes!”

With a gasp, he composed himself and leaned closer to the mirror.

He saw that his pupils had dilated, and his irises and sclera had turned a brilliant amber, shimmering strangely in the moonlight.

“Is this why I can see in the dark? But why have my eyes changed like this?”

Looking at his regrown hair, nails, and teeth, he was utterly shocked.

Just then, his nose and face began to itch, as if tiny mites were crawling across his skin.

He scratched at it, dislodging a layer of greasy black grime.

His pores, too, seemed clogged with small black dots. Wiping them away revealed more oily residue.

“Could this be the impurities and toxins accumulated in my body, expelled with the regrowth of my hair?”

The thought made his stomach churn. He felt an overwhelming urge to both vomit and defecate, and he hurried into the bathroom in a panic.

What followed was a grotesque purging of black, foul-smelling waste, accompanied by the expulsion of yellow, brown, and black fragments from his mouth, as if pieces of decayed tissue had been expelled from within.

He stared at the contents of the toilet, disgusted beyond measure, but still examined it briefly before flushing it away. He then turned on the exhaust fan and took a long, vigorous shower. Afterward, he returned to his room and stood before the full-length mirror.

The reflection revealed a startling transformation. His skin had become smooth, his pores had shrunk, and the blackheads were gone, making him look several years younger.

Even his hair had improved. It was now jet black, shiny, and healthy, without a single split end. He tugged at it, marveling at its strength, far superior to what it had been before.

His teeth, too, were different—white, but not unnaturally so, and perfectly aligned. There wasn’t a single blemish, and they looked strikingly beautiful. He picked up a fruit knife, tapping the back of the blade against his teeth, producing a crisp sound. He even bit down on the blade, leaving a faint impression.

“This hardness! I could perform a circus act with it.”

Beyond that, his mouth and tongue had become unusually supple. Especially his tongue, which now had remarkable elasticity. When he extended it, he could reach his nose; when he retracted it, it appeared perfectly normal. It was astonishingly agile, able to bend into various shapes at will.

Staring at the long, bright red tongue in the mirror, Yan Feng himself found it unsettling, like something out of a horror movie.

He recalled a video of a dog drinking water, where its tongue curled up like a little bowl to scoop up water.

Remembering that image, he extended his tongue and imitated the motion, holding it under the faucet. Like a spoon, it collected a fair amount of water.

With a flick of his tongue, the water flew across the room, striking the opposite wall with a sharp splat.

“That’s quite a bit of force!”

Delighted by his discovery, he spent several minutes playing with his newfound ability, his tongue performing various tricks before he finally stopped.

“If I ever quit designing, I could make a career live streaming my tongue tricks. I bet I’d get a lot of viewers.”

Amused by his own dark humor, Yan Feng also noticed another significant change in his body: he seemed to have lost weight.

Though he had always managed his weight well, sitting in an office for long hours inevitably led to a slight belly. Now, he could clearly feel that his belly had shrunk considerably.

But the most surprising discovery was that he appeared to have grown taller.

His room was equipped with an electronic scale to monitor his weight, and as an interior designer, he always had a ruler at hand.

Measuring his height, he confirmed that he had grown from 175 cm to 178 cm.

Three whole centimeters taller!

Next, he weighed himself. The scale showed 75.8 kilograms. The day before his leave, he had weighed 73.5 kilograms—an increase of 2.3 kilograms, or roughly five pounds.

He had gained five pounds in just a few hours!

Luckily, his height had also increased, so his body shape hadn’t changed much, or others might notice.

A three-centimeter change in height wasn’t very noticeable either—some insoles could give more lift than that.

After measuring his weight, Yan Feng sat naked on the edge of the bed, bathed in moonlight, resting his chin on his hand as he fell into deep thought.

From the insomnia, irritability, and mental exhaustion that began half a month ago, followed by bone pain and hunger, to the eventual diagnosis of bone cancer, and the inexplicable killing and devouring of Youfu, the entire sequence of events seemed like something out of a science fiction movie.

It made him seriously question whether he had cancer at all or if he was undergoing some kind of genetic mutation.

Now, Yan Feng no longer felt any pain or discomfort. His body was in perfect condition.

He had always suffered from minor health issues, such as chronic pharyngitis and rhinitis, a poorly set wrist fracture from childhood that limited his strength, and blackheads and enlarged pores on his face.

But now, all of that had vanished, as if he had been reborn. Every organ and tissue in his body was renewed, and even his breath smelled fresh.

Could the bone cancer have triggered this series of mutations?

Yan Feng pondered the idea but then dismissed it.

He didn’t smoke, drank only on social occasions, rarely ate junk food, kept a regular schedule, and had no family history of cancer. Logically, his chances of getting cancer were extremely low.

And more importantly, he had undergone a full physical exam last year and hadn’t noticed any health issues before this. The cancer had been diagnosed as terminal immediately, which was highly unusual.

For a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if his genes had undergone some mutation, triggering the cancerous changes during the process of transformation.