Two aging European-style buildings stood tall amidst the ruin, like cranes among chickens, asserting their presence in a sea of rubble.
“Heroine, I had no idea your ability was this powerful!”
“Isn’t this the real-life version of a master repair artist? Don’t worry, I’d never spill a word about your powers.”
Pang Pangzi, as open-hearted as ever, blurted out whatever was on his mind, gazing at Ye Shu with unbridled admiration.
Fu Jingchuan and Fu Shiyi followed Pang Tong’s lead, offering their own reassurances.
Ye Shu dipped her head in a reserved nod.
She had no fear of these people leaking her secret. After all, her real trump card… these people would never know, save for that damn thing.
An NPC just like her with the power of immortality—Lin Qingyue.
[Optimized Oxygen Tank*1.]
[Optimized Oxygen Tank*1.]
[Optimized Cookware.]
[Optimized Oxygen Generator, Respirator*1.]
It was true the oxygen bladders had been restored, but the gas inside had long since burst out during the house collapse, dissipating into thin air.
Now they had to refill…
Gazing at the living room strewn with deflated oxygen bladders, Ye Shu estimated her personal supply of oxygen to be not much better than before.
Meanwhile, in the other house,
The trio hurriedly began inflating the oxygen tanks. They barely had half a tank among them as it was.
…………
Ye Shu deployed the drone to scout.
G City.
From the sky, the city looked as though half of it had sunken below ground.
The surface of the lake and river was littered with dead fish.
Rubble everywhere. Corpses everywhere. The meager rescue forces couldn’t hope to help; it was sheer hell on Earth.
There was no network signal, none at all.
Thankfully, the light screen ignored these external factors.
Over a single night, some 200,000 players had perished or been injured, most likely buried beneath the earth.
That group of newbie players who’d shouted, ‘as long as we have oxygen, nothing can stop us’—when the real disaster struck, they were paralyzed with fear.
Had you ever seen land that could open and close on itself?
Now they had.
Within thirty minutes of the oxygen vanishing, the ground trembled. Cracks split open, voids appeared, buildings collapsed one after another.
When the oxygen returned, the ground slowly knit itself back together.
But for those trapped beneath, they found not rescue, but a closing tomb—until they were buried alive.
Gray earth above, anguished screams below, and blood bubbling steadily up from beneath.
Here, the land’s hunger for humans had become all too real.
…………
After deliberation, the four of them agreed.
The ground below had long been hollowed out. Staying here was a death sentence.
They decided to leave G City.
Below G City were mining tunnels dug out a century ago—a tremor could bring houses crashing down, especially in such low-oxygen conditions.
The internet returned after ten hours.
A city of a million souls—over half were dead or wounded.
The proud human fortress had evaporated in mere moments.
And it wasn’t only G City; plenty of others across the country had been erased overnight.
The roads were almost all destroyed—journeying onward by foot was the only choice.
On the road, wherever they went, all they heard were the grief-stricken cries of the young, the old, and the helpless. Those with tools dug for the living; those without, scrabbled with bare hands.
The four of them—clothes neat, airs intact—looked utterly out of place, like interlopers from another world.
“Sister Ye the Hero, this survival game… it’s just too real.”
“What if this isn’t a game?”
“What if this world truly exists?”
“If we, the players, fail to safeguard Blue Star, will our own world become a survival game too?”
Ye Shu had sensed for a long while that this so-called ‘game world’ was, in some essential ways, all too real.
“…I… Heroine, forgive me, I’m not so good with words.”
Pang Pangzi meant to lighten things up, but only stirred the gloom.
There was no time to mourn the dead—only a few hours remained until the next round at midnight.
“Hurry… We’re about to reach the edge of G City.”
Along the outbound highway, countless survivors were fleeing alongside them.
Most carried their belongings in packs, slinging a few tanks of oxygen by their sides. When tired, they ate some preserved food, sipped water, paused a moment, then pressed on.
During the trek, Ye Shu had to thwart several groups with designs on her oxygen supply.
Before long, darkness fell.
At 9:57.
At 10:21.
At 11:58.
The thirteenth day of the oxygen crisis.
At 12:00 sharp.
Oxygen was siphoned away. The familiar, crushing suffocation swept them all.
Numb survivors inserted oxygen tubes into their noses—they hardly dared move, knowing that each gasp burned precious oxygen.
With a thunderous roar, the earth convulsed once again.
Ye Shu glanced at the map Fu Jingchuan had given her, heart pounding. It marked out the precise locations of the underground caverns. At this very moment, they were standing atop the largest void of them all.
“Run!”
“Run! Now!”
“The earth is about to rip open!”
Ye Shu’s cry rang out, sharp and clear in the night.
They wanted to flee, but which way? They scattered like headless flies.
Ye Shu flipped on several high-powered flashlights, pointing toward the south. That way lay more solid ground, with fewer chasms.
Every second dragged on, painfully slow.
Death by suffocation, or death in despair—no other fate awaited them.
Ye Shu didn’t know how long she ran—all she knew was, the earth still trembled, and barely a few hundred survivors remained.
The Fu brothers, seasoned by family discipline, were faring better than most.
Pang Pangzi panted like a hunted dog, scrambling for his life, emerging battered and bruised.
The time without oxygen had climbed to sixty-eight minutes—a full hour.
An unbearably long hour.
And while dodging sinkholes, there were those still trying to steal oxygen or supplies.
“Huff, huff… We’ve been walking for ages. I can’t take another step—just two minutes of rest, please.”
Pang Pangzi was draped in supplies: oxygen tubes, dried food, water. If not for his storage-space card, he wouldn’t have managed to bring a single oxygen bladder. For all his exhaustion, he was content.
“I’m hungry too. Let’s rest up while we can.”
Ye Shu knew, the worst had yet to come. Tomorrow the deprivation would jump to a full two hours; when it did, the player base and locals would be gutted anew.
She pulled out a stewed pork and preserved greens-filled bun. It was charred, lacking a bit in culinary finesse, but it was edible… and precious.
Finally, at six in the morning, they left G City behind.
Yet what greeted the survivors was despair: the highway had collapsed, impassable, leaving no place to set foot.
“Mama, I’m hungry…”
“What good is escaping? We’re still dead. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have run last night.”
“The authorities won’t abandon us!”
“It’s not just us—everyone is suffocating. I hear the cities nearby are falling too.”
“Let’s keep going. Maybe there’s still hope ahead.”
Hundreds of survivors had barely escaped the grave, sheer faith pushing them this far. Now, every spark of hope was snuffed out.
Their mutual complaints nearly escalated to brawls.
Ye Shu and her companions had already slipped away, choosing a route with the fewest caverns beneath.