On Planet E, chaos erupted in the vacuum of oxygen.

A husband and wife, locked in a bitter quarrel, suddenly reached a breaking point—one moment they were arguing, and the next, the husband, unable to hold his breath when the oxygen vanished, collapsed to the floor in convulsions.

The wife, seeing him fall, staggered forward to help—only to discover, in horror, that she too could no longer breathe, as though invisible hands were closing around her throat.

In the hospital, an emergency surgery was underway. In the middle of the operation, the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room. With no air to sustain life, the patient could not be saved.

On the streets, a speeding freight truck lost control and crashed into a barricade, its driver asphyxiated mid-journey.

Even the animals grew restless. Fish in the ponds vaulted into the air, thrashing as they tried to reach the surface. Rats, cockroaches, and centipedes—creatures usually cowering in darkness—scattered in panic. Overhead, great flocks of birds streaked across the sky, their wings flapping desperately in a cacophony that announced the world was unraveling.

This world, it seemed, had truly gone mad.

Nearly every waking person sensed the air was not right. Many who were asleep found themselves woken abruptly by the suffocating absence of breath.

A video titled 'Oxygen Deprivation' began trending online. Its origin was almost comical—a child, unable to sleep at night, played with their parents’ smartphone, unintentionally recording and posting a clip of the whole family gasping for air. In the video, both parents’ faces flushed deep red. They opened their mouths wide in vain, desperate to breathe, but there was not a whisper of oxygen left to inhale. Helplessly, they could only stare blankly at one another.

Netizens left frantic comments beneath the post: “So it wasn’t just me running out of air?” “What’s happening to Planet E?” “The oxygen disappeared all at once... This must be the end of the world! We’re doomed!” “This is karma for the E-planet people defiling nature!” “I’d rather have a zombie apocalypse like in those novels—maybe I’d awaken some supernatural powers. Anything is better than this suffocation.”

Someone even advertised, “Oxygen shortage? Our Self-Serve Oxygen Company produces fresh oxygen daily! Call 098-990-111! For just 98 credits, one of our staff will deliver a tank right to your door!”

The replies came fast and furious: “Have you lost your mind? How can you charge so much for a tank of air?” And another, arrogantly, “Heh, a few seconds without air? I’m the global breath-holding champion—two minutes is nothing to me. A mere handful of seconds is child’s play.”

And then, after sixteen agonizing seconds, the oxygen returned—rushing back in one giant, invisible wave. The entire city gasped for air like survivors of a shipwreck.

Ye Shu watched the pinned video. Most people seemed only mildly concerned by the oxygen scare, treating it like a momentary anomaly—nothing worth worrying about, as if, like the breath-holding champion, no one truly believed it could happen again, or last longer.

A select few, more aware of looming disaster, had already begun stockpiling oxygen tanks. The company promising fresh oxygen was inundated with orders.

Ye Shu hesitated briefly, but decided to place an order herself—not out of panic, but practicality. The company was just a city away, and delivery should arrive by morning. When it came to oxygen, one could never have too much.

"Ye Xiaoshu... maybe it won't be as bad as we think..."

"Maybe the duration of the oxygen loss is different than we guessed... This might’ve just been a fluke. Let’s check the duration again at noon tomorrow."

Ye Shu raised an eyebrow at Fu Jingchuan and asked, “Do you truly believe that?”

Fu Jingchuan hesitated, knowing his words were as much to comfort himself as anyone else.

Fu Jingchuan’s vision was still blurred, but with his cane he managed to find his way as Ye Shu, politely but firmly, escorted him to her own front door.

Outside the courtyard, the ground was littered with the corpses of moths and flies, and under the eaves, a number of birds that had died crashing into the building. Small, high-metabolism creatures like these suffered the worst—suddenly deprived of oxygen, their fate was sealed.

Disorder blanketed the courtyard.

Da Piaoliang, being a cat and partial to birds, regarded the avian buffet strewn about the yard as a feast fit for a king.

The nearby residential homes had all been abandoned due to the plane crash incident—within a hundred meters, Ye Shu had not seen another soul.

The oxygen company was efficient; by afternoon, Ye Shu received her tanks. The quality was fine, if a tad overpriced.

Da Piaoliang curled its tail and took a few experimental breaths from a tank, its emerald eyes glimmering with confusion. Before it became a monster, oxygen might have meant life, but now, its lungs and windpipe were nothing but decorative. Oxygen, to it, was useless.

With a dainty, mincing step, Da Piaoliang approached Ye Shu and offered, "Master, if it’s just oxygen, all you need to do is become a monster. Then you’d be immune, no need to stockpile this pointless stuff! Want me to help?"

The black cat exposed a mouthful of sharp teeth, its gaze lingering on the pale curve of Ye Shu’s neck. Monsters, after all, still craved flesh and blood—contract or not. Should their master grow too weak, some would even devour them.

Ye Shu knew this all too well and briskly refused, "No need. I like stockpiling useless oxygen. If you’re so idle, go out and clean up the bug corpses—those things count as protein, too."

As dusk fell, an unexpected guest arrived at the little villa.

It was Fu Shiyi and Pang Pangzi, who’d rushed over, collecting oxygen tanks all along the way.

Now four people gathered in Ye Shu’s house.

Fu Shiyi was distraught to learn that Fu Jingchuan was temporarily blind.

"Third Brother, who did this to you? Let me at ‘em!"

"Shiyi, calm down. I hurt myself—the backlash from losing control of my powers. Once I’m out of this game, I’ll recover. Things are just a little blurry now, but it’s no big deal. Really."

Fu Jingchuan couldn’t see clearly, but could still imagine his younger brother’s dramatic, over-the-top antics. He paused, his sunglasses reflecting briefly on Ye Shu.

"Heroine Ye, you have no idea how hard it was to track you down! Thank goodness I ran into Shiyi as soon as I was teleported in."

Pang Tong saw Ye Shu and teared up, as if reunited with a long-lost sister. With her around, he always felt an unshakable sense of security.

Ye Shu lounged on the sofa, petting the cat, and gave Pang Pangzi a bland look.

Fu Shiyi greeted her enthusiastically, "Sis Ye, these cookies are delicious! Did you bake them yourself?"

"No, I bought them. Ten packs for 9.9—discounted for being expired. They actually went off yesterday, so help yourself, Shiyi. Waste not, want not."

See? Isn’t life better alone? At least, it wouldn’t be this noisy.

A brief stiffness crossed Fu Shiyi’s face. As a Fu family heir, he was used to the best delicacies; this was the first time expired food had ever crossed his lips. Ten bags for 9.9... what were the odds of quality?

But the next second, he shrugged it off and snatched another cookie from the fruit plate. Apocalypse or not, who was he to be picky now? The taste was leagues better than human-faced sea stars, anyway.

Inside, camaraderie brewed; across the street, in an old Western-style house, someone gnawed his teeth in envy.

Lin Qingyue nearly punched a hole through the ceiling. One Fu Jingchuan wasn’t bad enough—now some Shiyi kid too? As a man, he could see all too well where that boy’s gaze landed again and again: always on Ye Xiaoshu, pretending all the while to be some harmless neighborhood kid. It was maddening—absolutely intolerable!