1:56 PM. Despite the hour, the world outside remained shrouded in unrelenting darkness. But inside the bomb shelter, spirits were as sweet as honey. The crowd gazed at the potted seedlings just a few meters away with heartfelt gratitude brightening their eyes. As long as these young plants lived, there was no need to fear suffocating—not when they no longer needed to haul heavy oxygen canisters on their backs!
“I never realized how precious air was until now!” someone exclaimed.
“I wonder who the scientist is that cultivated these rare seedlings? If only I could meet them.”
“Thank heavens I’m from H City, and followed directions to come here. Those who didn’t must regret it bitterly.”
“I feel alive again! We’ll have enough air, plenty of firepower, and even that wall in the sky will come down, just you wait!”
Ye Shu couldn’t help but be swept up in their excitement, a small smile appearing on her lips. On a planet that was destined for ruin, a chance for life had emerged. The effectiveness of the spores was immediate. Just minutes after planting, they began to produce oxygen—bolstering Song Lian’s confidence beyond measure. If Ye Xiaoshu was willing to provide spores, then there was still hope for rebuilding the nation of Daxia.
He wasted no time reporting this development to his superiors.
6:20 PM. Oxygen returned. The oppressive sky shifted, turning into a golden dusk filled with hope. What would happen after tonight, with the oxygen-deprivation period extending to thirty-six hours instead of a single day? No one knew. Yet, for the first time, the survivors in the shelter no longer feared tomorrow.
[Congratulations, player Ye Shu. Your Flora Spirit has leveled up to Level 4. The oxygen supply range has expanded to 24 meters, and the reproduction rate has quickened. You can now produce 20,000 spores daily. Each seed yields a one-meter supply of oxygen.]
Ye Shu glanced at the jade-green leaf embedded at her wrist. When she had first bonded with it, it barely grazed her skin. Now, the color had deepened, and she could sense an ethereal connection—the ebb and flow of her Flora Spirit’s emotions. She realized its evolution was tied directly to the planters on the ground: every time she planted spores, the nutrients they gathered were relayed back to the mother plant.
Today, Ye Shu delivered the spores to Song Lian as promised. In return, true to his word, Song Lian handed over the chip technology she’d requested.
“The people are the foundation of the nation,” he said resolutely. “Without them, of what use is technology?”
He trusted Ye Xiaoshu—they were both native to Daxia, not outsiders. For all he knew, her demand was nothing more than a convenient excuse to help her own country.
“Ah, it’s Little Ye! Please, have a seat—let’s talk things over,” Song Lian said with an affable grin.
Ye Shu silently mocked his crafty smile, but kept her face composed and cool. She handed the twenty thousand spores to the soldier at Song Lian’s side.
The eighteenth day of the oxygen crisis. Suffocation lasted thirty-six hours now. With the spores supplying her Flora Spirit, Ye Shu’s upgrade sped forward. At level six, the oxygen range expanded to ninety-six meters, and the daily spore output soared.
Beyond H City’s shelter and the spore planters, survivors elsewhere in Daxia faced dire peril. For a full day, the world stayed shrouded in darkness. As Ye Shu had predicted, oxygen deprivation was doubling relentlessly—twofold every time.
Yet thanks to the spores, the bomb shelter became a rare oasis in all the city. Here alone, people could walk outside freely, unafraid of suffocation. Seeing this, Song Lian dispatched his soldiers to distribute spores to neighboring cities.
By the twentieth day, the sky was so dark you couldn’t see your own hand. People had already begun to adapt. Military units and volunteers ventured out with the plants, seeking more flora, while the shelter established a mission hall: anyone who left could exchange supplies for a pot of spore seedlings. The rule was simple—so long as the person returned with the seedling unharmed, they could borrow again. If it was lost, they’d be refused next time.
Everything seemed to be moving in a hopeful direction. Ye Shu’s Flora Spirit soon reached level ten, spreading oxygen within a 1,472-meter radius and churning out 100,000 spores every day. While the juvenile spores could only provide a meter of air each, once they matured, they’d expand that range—up to five meters apiece.
From the thriving shelter, Song Lian finally relaxed. As long as Comrade Xiao Ye was here, nothing seemed impossible!
But there was one regret—Ye Shu wasn’t truly of this world. When she eventually left the game, her body would revert to its original state and the game would blur everyone’s memory of her.
…
Far off in the southern city, Ye Wanwan cowered on the ground, desperately sucking the last drops from her final oxygen tank as tears stained her cheeks. Qin Zaozao’s corpse lay cold beside her.
“Sister, I didn’t mean it! I only wanted to survive…” Wanwan sobbed. “You’ve always been so good to me, you’d forgive me, right? There was only one bottle left—I had no choice…”
Just then, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Wanwan’s eyes darted to the door. Whoever could walk freely outside in this suffocating world was not ordinary. Maybe she could latch onto them—her 1-liter oxygen tank wouldn’t last much longer.
Ye Wanwan didn’t believe a word of it. The oxygen shortage on Planet E had been a certainty since the very first day of the game. There was no way these ignorant locals could’ve stockpiled enough for billions. Every tank should have been long gone.
Reality, however, struck back immediately. The door was battered open and the supposed volunteers wore no oxygen gear. How was that possible? Had the air on this planet truly been restored?
She removed her mask—and the familiar suffocation swept over her.
“How are you all walking around without tanks?” she demanded, panic trembling in her voice. Could these locals have developed some supernatural resistance?
“Miss, these are oxygen-producing spores. So long as you carry them, you’ll breathe easy.” The young volunteer beamed. “I heard they were developed by a scholar surnamed Ye from H City. Wish I could meet her!”
He offered condolences, glancing at the body beside Wanwan. “I’m sorry I arrived too late. Your sister can’t come back—please accept my sympathies.”
The volunteer didn’t notice anything amiss in her story, grinning foolishly all the while. Wanwan’s heart twisted. All the struggle, fighting Qin Zaozao for that last tank—turned out to be worthless scrap now. If only she’d known, she wouldn’t have killed her so soon.
But there’s no medicine for regret. Luckily, Qin Zaozao only had one revival card. Her parents would never find out. Ye Wanwan would always be their flawless, innocent daughter.
…
Back at the shelter, Ye Shu hurried to deliver the spores to Song Lian before midnight.
“Comrade Xiao Ye,” Song Lian grinned from ear to ear, “you could’ve waited till morning. No need to trouble yourself so late—it’s ten thousand spores you’ve brought! Think how many lives will be saved.”
“It’s nothing,” Ye Shu replied. “Old Song, please distribute these as soon as possible—there are so many people in Daxia relying on them. In three weeks, the spores will grow and produce a new generation. They might not match what I’ve given you, but they’ll create oxygen all the same.”
She explained everything she knew about spore habits and uses. As he listened, an uneasy premonition crept up on Song Lian. It almost sounded like Xiao Ye was giving final instructions… as if the process was draining her life.
But looking at her—vigor shining, she’d even practiced Wing Chun that very morning—it was hard to believe she was ill at all.
…
Midnight. A restless anxiety gnawed at Song Lian. By the time he went looking for Ye Shu, she was nowhere to be found.
“General, why are we looking for this Ms. Ye?” a soldier asked, puzzled. He didn’t recall ever meeting the woman.
Song Lian himself nearly forgot. Yet one memory remained: the sight of a young woman throwing determined punches in the bomb shelter, her form as agile as a hunting cat.
[Congratulations, player Ye Shu, on surviving twenty days.]
[You have gained +20 World Affinity.]
[Rank: SSS.]
[You have successfully exited the scenario.]
[Instance completed: Players who cleared Humanity Purge Plan – 34,990.]