“Aaaah—is this an earthquake?”

“No, the black hole is getting closer!”

“Let us in!!”

The violent tremor sent even the most disciplined crowd into a frenzy. Everyone surged toward the electrified fence. Ye Shu led Fu Shiyi at a breakneck pace, dashing ahead of the herd.

Ye Shu could swear she'd never run this fast in her life.

The tremors intensified. The ground caved beneath their feet, the pavement collapsing, dragging people down like unlucky dumplings dropped into a pot. Worst yet, the yawning fissure slammed shut as the earth quaked.

Ye Shu had exceptionally sharp hearing.

Even from a distance, she could make out the grotesque crunch of bones, the cries of people crushed beneath the earth, stifled and desperate.

Within moments, the quake subsided.

By then, Ye Shu had made it up the airplane steps.

Before entering, she glanced over her shoulder.

The trees and streetlamps flanking the road had toppled like dominoes. Muddy ground was streaked with shocking red. The square was sparsely populated now—maybe a fifth survived. The lucky ones huddled in small, shivering clusters, their faces drained of color, terror freezing them where they crouched.

They hadn't boarded the plane.

For those left behind, only death awaited.

“Miss Ye, we need to close the cabin door,” Wen Qi called, unable to suppress his reminder. If not for Ye Shu’s spatial powers, he’d have left her behind long ago.

“Oh, right.”

A roar echoed in her ears.

Standing in the aisle, Ye Shu kept her gaze fixed on the window. Thankfully, the runway wasn’t too badly damaged; they could still take off.

Seconds ticked by and the plane lifted from the earth.

“Miss Ye, you may sit wherever you wish in Cabin Two. If you need anything, come forward to Cabin One and find me.”

With that, Wen Qi rushed off.

The quake had happened in a blink, too fast for several team members to make it aboard.

Ye Shu looked around, realizing the cabin was far more spacious than she'd expected—large enough for at least a hundred people from her vantage point. She nodded, claimed the nearest seat without hesitation, and waved for Fu Shiyi to sit beside her.

The plane flew further and further away.

Only then did Ye Shu’s heart steady. She fished two sandwiches and two cups of steaming soy milk from her space, eating without restraint.

Despite Cabin Two’s generous space, the aroma of food traveled far and wide in such a confined environment.

Almost instantly, dozens of hungry eyes fixed on Ye Shu—not her face, but her hands. In the tense silence, the sound of swallowing echoed unmistakably.

“Big Sis Ye, you’re a lifesaver!”

“To eat something hot after escaping with our lives... It’s delicious. Um, can I have another one? I’ve got a big appetite.”

Fu Shiyi, cradling his sandwich, wolfed it down and stole a cautious glance at the woman beside him before making his request.

So much time had been lost on the road these past days. Taking turns behind the wheel, ever on alert for black holes that could appear at any moment, most meals were nothing more than steamed buns and pickled vegetables—sometimes just dry rations, toughing it out.

“Take one before you choke to death,” Ye Shu replied, tossing a few more sandwiches at Fu Shiyi, her generosity without hesitation.

Everyone who’d made it onto the plane had paid in rations and tickets, but baggage was restricted. Most of their supplies had gone to the communal granary—they'd have to wait for on-board rations, which were usually tasteless biscuits and bottles of water.

A hot meal was a rare luxury.

The soy milk was still steaming—evidently, the spatial ability user’s storage could keep things warm.

No one aboard was a fool. Watching Ye Shu brazenly use her powers before everyone, their covetous gazes suddenly turned sharp and clear.

A thunderous roar drew everyone’s attention.

Ye Shu followed their eyes to the place they'd fled from—the runway. At a distance, a gaping black maw had opened beneath the tarmac, dissolving everything nearby into nothing.

“That fast!?”

The last time she saw Black Hole-Eighteen, it hadn't grown this monstrous.

Was it on steroids?

In less than three seconds, the entire airport vanished—devoured as if it had never existed.

With such speed, even at a thousand meters up, the plane was at risk of being pulled down by its gravitational pull.

For a fleeting moment, Ye Shu’s usually calm face tightened.

This survival game—it truly didn’t play fair. It was as if it had chosen a single target to torment.

Everywhere else, players lounged safely aboard their Arks, heading for the stars.

But not those from Zone D.

Escape was forbidden. They were trapped on this forsaken planet.

And still, no end to the game in sight.

Ye Shu cursed silently.

The next instant, the plane shuddered violently. Luggage tumbled from overhead bins, raining havoc.

No time to strategize—metallic groans tore through the cabin as the plane trembled.

The black hole was closing in.

At this rate, the plane was going to come apart—if the game wasn’t already conspiring to end them.

“Damn game—singling us out like this? Why is the Zone D instance hell-level difficulty?”

“The black holes in the other zones weren’t like this! Why are we special?”

“What’s the point of playing then?”

“Restart! I’ve still got a revive card. Count this round as terrible luck.”

“I’m out of cards! If I die here—so many points saved, and I haven’t even spent them yet!”

“…(national curse words)”

Most of the cabin’s inhabitants were players. Dignity forgotten, they erupted in a torrent of frustrated curses.

If every zone was this hard, maybe it would be bearable. But only Zone D—forced to stay behind while others fled. Anyone would reach their breaking point.

Tsk. The system never meant for the players to survive in the first place.

Ye Shu grumbled inwardly, bracing herself for a failed round.

At least she still had a revive card. Death would not claim her yet.

But this—dying in such a miserable way—rankled.

Seconds passed. The turbulence ceased. The world seemed to resume as if nothing had happened.

“Huh? Why did it stop?”

“Oh, God—are we saved?”

Time crawled by. There were no more tremors, no grinding of metal—nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ye Shu eyed the black hole, thousands of meters away.

Was she seeing things?

The black hole... had stopped?

A trick of the light?

Ye Shu finished her sandwich, gaze locked on the land below, now swiftly eaten away by the cosmic aberration.

She glared for a long while, finally convinced the black hole had, inconceivably, ceased its rampage. Warily, she spoke: “Shiyi, doesn’t that black hole look odd to you? The devouring seems to have stopped. Is the game bugging out again?”

Or was it gathering strength for something far worse?

A black hole nearly a hundred kilometers wide—even at such a distance, Ye Shu could see shadowy forms coiling within. She didn’t even want to imagine what those things might do if they escaped during the later stages of the game.

“Um, I guess so? Isn’t that a good thing?”

Fu Shiyi, still chewing his sandwich, avoided her eyes.

Ye Shu remained absorbed in the sight, noticing nothing amiss around her.

“That black hole really did stop, right? I’m not hallucinating?”

“Who cares! So long as we’re alive, there’s hope.”

With disaster averted—at least for now—all those aboard breathed a collective, shaky sigh of relief.