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Ch 189: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

Mu Xing’s reputation had been badly slandered online, but since he rarely went online himself, he knew nothing about it.

No one knew that the “extremely ruthless” Instructor Mu actually spent most of his days doing the same thing as those “pitiful” ability users—wearing a little straw hat, squatting in the fields, and watching new seedlings grown through ordinary agricultural methods.

Although he was officially an instructor for Dragon Fang, he didn’t manage their affairs, nor did he participate in their missions.

Gu Zhao and the others, on the other hand, were constantly busy, running all over the country.

Even though China’s general environment was peaceful and harmonious, not every ability user was content with mediocrity. Dragon Fang’s task was to root out those secretly scheming to cause unrest.

The Dragon Fang leadership had once approached Mu Xing, inviting him to join in managing Dragon Fang’s daily operations. After all, his strength was recognized by everyone—his plant abilities were practically unstoppable. Many of the newly arrived awakened didn’t even know that their Instructor Mu also had a spatial ability, simply because he never had the chance to use it.

But Mu Xing directly refused, and with perfectly sound reasoning: “Dragon Fang already has plenty of fighters. What it lacks is farmers. Sending me out on missions would just waste my powers.”

Dragon Fang’s senior leaders: Don’t think that just because you said it so righteously we can’t see through you—you just want to farm!

Unfortunately for them, the Agricultural Institute strongly supported Mu Xing. They said his powers had enormous potential; if he could truly produce new high-quality crops, his contribution to society would be immense.

And so Mu Xing was able to loaf around openly and without shame.

Since the higher-ups were of this opinion, providing food, housing, and even a salary, he was happy to stay at the Agricultural Institute.

If they had really forced him to take missions, Mu Xing might have long since run as far away as possible. After all, with his bug-like abilities, if he didn’t want to be found, no one could find him.

Leisurely days passed, and three years went by.

The Agricultural Institute’s official account had become one of the most popular government accounts online.

Every so often they released updates—each time announcing some new crop they had developed.

Most were simply novelties, but now and then something truly surprising appeared.

For example, the honeydew-flavored sweet potato from three years ago was now in mass production, and had become one of the public’s favorite foods.

Netizens also knew the Agricultural Institute had quite a few plant-type ability users, and these new crops were their creations. The leader among them was someone called “Xingxing,” who sounded quite young. This was discovered when a conversation was accidentally recorded in a video.

Later, when asked by netizens, an Agricultural Institute spokesperson admitted in an interview that their research into ability-based plants had indeed always been led (or “played with”) by Xingxing.

But no one ever connected this diligent “Xingxing” with the infamous, “ruthless” Instructor Mu.

In these years, domestic ability users had already fully integrated with ordinary people—very different from abroad, where the conflict between ability users and the public had only grown worse.

Groups like Organization Zero loudly proclaimed that ability users were “superhumans,” superior beings destined to rule the world.

As childish as it sounded, there were indeed ordinary people deceived into joining them.

Mu Xing could never understand: according to these organizations, awakened people were “chosen by the gods” while ordinary people were beneath them. And yet there were still people eager to throw themselves at their feet to be treated like servants?

One day, Gu Zhao came to find Mu Xing.

He told him that a neighboring country’s official organization similar to Dragon Fang had asked for help. They had sent an ability-user undercover into Organization Zero, who discovered their headquarters. The intel said Organization Zero was conducting human experiments, trying to artificially create “superhumans.”

This was an outright crime against humanity.

Even worse, the documents showed that Organization Zero had listed many of China’s ability users as targets. They hadn’t acted yet only because it was too difficult.

And strangely, Mu Xing’s name was on the list.

Back then, those two men who had taken an interest in him had later realized that Mu Xing’s symptoms at the time might well have been an awakening—long before the global wave of awakenings.

They had been very interested in the possibility that Mu Xing was the first awakened. Unfortunately, when they risked returning to his old apartment, he had already vanished.

Gu Zhao said gravely, “This is a rare opportunity. Organization Zero is a cancer that should never have existed in this world.”

He had originally planned to let Mu Xing stay behind to look after the base. But unexpectedly, Mu Xing insisted he would go too.

Gu Zhao was surprised. He thought he knew Mu Xing’s temperament—this was the sort of thing he should have no interest in.

But Mu Xing met his gaze calmly. “They didn’t mean me well. If not for that prophetic dream I had, I might already have fallen into their hands.”

He added, “Think about it. With their insane methods, what would have happened to me if they had captured me?”

“So,” he concluded, “we have a grudge.”

Counting the original storyline, this was simply a blood feud.

When Mu Xing’s group left China and reached the S-country border, they were met by S-country ability users sent to receive them.

They clearly knew Gu Zhao—or rather, they recognized the powerful China ability users who frequently appeared in public.

But when they saw Mu Xing, they hesitated. This person just looked… far too harmless.

He wore a warm yellow sweater, his skin pale and soft, smiling with bright eyes, like a tender bamboo shoot freshly sprouted from the ground.

He seemed completely out of place among the tough, battle-hardened Dragon Fang members.

“And this is…?” the S-country representative asked Gu Zhao.

Gu Zhao replied, “This is Mu Xing.”

The man asked sensitively, “Mu… as in that Instructor Mu?”

Gu Zhao nodded. “He is our Instructor Mu.”

At once, the S-country ability users looked at Mu Xing with respect and… a trace of fear.

S-so this harmless-looking young man was the infamous Instructor Mu, feared across China and even the world?

If he walked down the street, thieves and con artists would target him in a heartbeat!

But then they remembered the stories—those operatives who secretly entered China, never to return, their fates whispered about among ability users. It was said they had all fallen thanks to this very Instructor Mu.

A chill ran down their spines. Never judge by appearances.

Mu Xing didn’t understand their language and looked questioningly at Gu Zhao.

Gu Zhao, holding back laughter at what they were imagining, explained, “He heard you’re Instructor Mu and got scared.”

Mu Xing: “?”

More confused. “Why scared?”

He was completely unaware of his fearsome reputation.

Yu Wei pulled out his phone, searched “Instructor Mu,” and handed it over.

Mu Xing accepted it, puzzled.

Ten minutes later: “…”

He burst out laughing. “China’s most brutal ability user, the present-day prison minister of the base, the terrifying Instructor Mu… Looks like those guys at the base really have too much free time.”

Yu Wei hadn’t expected that reaction and asked curiously, “You’re not angry?”

Mu Xing blinked. “Angry? Why angry?”

He found it funnier the more he read, handed Yu Wei back his phone, and pulled out his own to start searching his name online. “Don’t you think it’s actually pretty cool?”

The S-country hosts were baffled why Instructor Mu was laughing so happily and cautiously asked Gu Zhao.

Gu Zhao chuckled. “Don’t worry. Instructor Mu is very satisfied with his reputation.”

The S-country ability users: “?”

They looked at Mu Xing with even greater horror. To be pleased with such a savage reputation—what kind of twisted person was this?

After arriving at their destination, the Dragon Fang team didn’t rest even a moment and went straight for Organization Zero’s headquarters.

Mu Xing finally stood there again.

It was unfamiliar to him. Even though in the original plot the previous Mu Xing had been here for years, his world had been confined to one spacious laboratory.

But in another way, it was familiar too: every room, every corridor of this vast underground fortress had the same deathly white walls and lights as that lab where he had been imprisoned.

Now it was midnight. Even in Organization Zero, most members were asleep, with only night guards on alert.

The S-country ability users asked, “Should we first ambush the exits to prevent anyone from escaping?”

After hearing Gu Zhao’s translation, Mu Xing shook his head. “No need.”

He took a deep breath and spread his hands.

This was the first time since awakening that he had unleashed his power without restraint.

Countless vines shot up, growing at impossible speed from the ground and the depths below, wrapping the enormous structure in a dense, suffocating cocoon.

It all happened silently, in just a few breaths. The entire base was surrounded by vegetation.

From above, anyone might think a primeval jungle had sprouted there overnight.

The S-country ability users stared, jaws dropped into O-shapes.

T-this… this was Instructor Mu’s power?

No wonder the Chinese people called him the devil!

Was this really the same kind of ability as theirs? Was this something a “normal” ability user could ever do?

A vine coiled around Mu Xing’s waist, lifting him onto a tree branch to sit.

Mu Xing said lazily, “I won’t go in. I’ll watch the outside for you—no one’s getting out.”

Gu Zhao relayed this, leaving Yu Wei outside with him as a precaution, while the rest slipped quietly into the dark.

Mu Xing leaned back on the branch and watched the moon.

Yu Wei, proud and excited, said, “Mu Xing, boss, that move—you stunned them all!”

Not just those S-country people—even Yu Wei, who had already seen Mu Xing’s plant abilities, was still shaken seeing it again.

Like them, he also felt Mu Xing’s power wasn’t even on the same level as theirs.

The difference was like between level-10 mobs and a final boss.

Mu Xing also thought he was amazing. Maybe being the first awakened did mean he was special.

Then Yu Wei suddenly asked, “Are you unhappy?”

Mu Xing was stunned. “Why are you suddenly asking that?”

Yu Wei scratched his head. “Just a feeling. You’ve seemed down this whole trip, and you’ve been eating less too. Honestly, if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to come. Organization Zero isn’t that scary—with the boss leading us, we’ve got more than enough strength.”

Mu Xing hadn’t expected even the straightforward, rough-edged Yu Wei to notice.

He casually plucked a leaf, chewed it, found it bitter, and spat it out. “It’s not that I don’t want to be here. I just loathe that organization.”

He really hadn’t wanted to come.

But because of the original storyline, it felt as if this body carried a faint obsession of its own.

He sensed that he would only be at peace after watching Organization Zero be destroyed with his own eyes.

Hearing this, Yu Wei thought it made perfect sense.

In his heart, and in the hearts of everyone in Dragon Fang, even the leaders of the research institute and agricultural institute, Mu Xing was basically like a saint.

His mindset was noble, he was selfless, and he had no ambition at all. Despite possessing power so overwhelming it was nearly invincible, he acted as though he didn’t even realize it—spending every day squatting in fields playing with plants.

He treated everyone politely, and if someone gave him even a small cookie, he could be happy for a long time.

If that wasn’t saintly, what was?

For someone like him, it was perfectly natural to despise a vile organization like Zero.

Mu Xing sat perched in the tree. It wasn’t long before alarms began blaring within the underground fortress.

The sound was trapped by layer upon layer of vegetation above, not a whisper escaping to the outside.

Half an hour later, people began to flee from the exits in a scattered rush.

Though the organization had many ability users, even more were unawakened “researchers.” Frail as they were, they were the core of Zero’s human experiments, and now they were being protected and evacuated first.

But each and every one who made it out was “warmly received” by Mu Xing.

So when Gu Zhao and the others emerged from the underground fortress and looked up, they were greeted by the sight of dozens of vines thrashing about in the air—each one suspending a person, all of them half-dead and barely breathing.

The S-country ability users watched in horror as one still-resisting power-type ability user was strung up by a thick vine, smashed against the ground again and again like a sandbag.

Bang!

Smack!

Within moments, the man was bloodied and limp, just like the rest.

Seeing everyone staring at him, Mu Xing said innocently, “They weren’t being very cooperative, always struggling. Tying them up properly took too much effort. I had no choice but to use this method to make them behave.”

The S-country ability users: …

They didn’t understand his words.

But one thing was clear—Instructor Mu was absolutely a devil!

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Ch 188: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

They thought about it and realized they couldn’t get involved, so they finally decided to withdraw from the battlefield and leave the place to Li Jin.

Through the eyes of the plants, Mu Xing observed clearly that Li Jin’s speed and pressure were both much stronger than when he had first awakened his powers.

So… abilities could actually be strengthened through stimulation?

After a while, Mu Xing sensed something was wrong and shouted sternly, “Li Jin, stop!”

At the same time, several vines shot out and tightly bound Li Jin’s limbs.

Even in his berserk rage, the boy’s strength was shocking—he tore through several vines. Fortunately, when Mu Xing used his plant powers, the one thing he never lacked was vines, and he still managed to subdue him.

Looking down at the two men on the ground, they had already collapsed, completely unable to resist.

If he hadn’t stopped Li Jin, the boy might very well have beaten them to death.

Li Jin struggled for quite a while, until Mu Xing guided a surge of green energy into his body.

Li Jin suddenly felt his mind clear, snapping out of the frenzy.

Dazed, he recalled what he had just done, then looked uneasily at Mu Xing. “Instructor, just now…?”

Mu Xing said calmly, “Nothing too serious. But you may need to come with us back to the capital for a detailed checkup.”

Remembering how he had lost his reason just moments ago, Li Jin also felt uneasy. He agreed without protest.

Then he suddenly remembered something urgent and blurted, “Instructor, Major Gu—what about my family?”

Gu Zhao reassured him. “Don’t worry. That person has been captured. Your parents are safe.”

Li Jin rushed home himself, and only after seeing his parents unharmed did he finally relax.

The next morning, he told his parents he was going to the capital for training, that if he performed well he might be recommended for university. He also, out of worry about retaliation, persuaded them to take a trip away for a while. Then he left with Mu Xing and the others back to base.

As for the three people from Zero, they were naturally taken as prisoners.

Mu Xing brought Li Jin to the research institute for testing, while Gu Zhao took the others away for interrogation.

Li Jin’s results soon came out: his body temperature was higher than normal, and his central nervous system was unusually active. In this state, his emotions were very prone to spiraling out of control.

He replaced Mu Xing as the research institute’s newest “precious subject.”

Meanwhile, Gu Zhao managed to pry out a lot of information from the captives. As suspected, Zero was currently contacting awakened people worldwide.

China wasn’t their best target, because the country’s management of outsiders was too strict, not suitable for their operations.

But in most other places, awakened individuals were hiding, difficult to find. Only China had publicly released awakened data—people like Li Jin, whose identities and addresses could be directly obtained.

They had actually known that Li Jin was being observed. But ever since his identity had been revealed, so many people curious about him had come by to say hello that two more watchers didn’t stand out.

More importantly, they never thought Li Jin would reject them.

In their view, someone who awakened such powerful abilities was naturally destined to stand at the top of the world. How could he possibly resign himself to living as an ordinary person?

And weren’t they just providing him with the perfect platform?

Thinking this way, they confidently contacted Li Jin without even bothering to hide their identities.

Who would’ve thought the kid’s first reaction would be to report them to the government?

Was he crazy?!

No one knew how Gu Zhao did it, but within three days, everything those three could reveal had been wrung out of them.

It turned out none of them were Chinese nationals, and the murders they carried weren’t even committed in China.

As for how to deal with them, Gu Zhao hadn’t yet decided when Mu Xing spoke up.

Mu Xing needed manpower.

At the agricultural institute, he already had a huge stretch of land.

Apart from one field used for hybrid experiments, the rest were filled with bizarre crops he had created through his powers.

They weren’t easy to grow.

Forget mass production—survival itself was hard, even with constant observation, recording, and manual cultivation.

Mu Xing took custody of those captives. The research institute injected them with a control drug that stripped away most of their abilities, ensuring they posed no threat, then handed them over to Mu Xing.

They became farmhands.

Especially the plant-type ability user—he was incredibly useful.

Not long after, the agricultural institute’s official account released a video.

In it, a man in a hat dug up a basket of green sweet potatoes from the soil.

A nearby reporter washed one, cut it open with a knife—the flesh inside was also tender green, looking very fresh.

The reporter took a bite, then smiled and explained, “This is a new melon-flavored sweet potato developed by the agricultural institute’s plant-type ability user. Eaten raw, it tastes no different from honeydew melon. Cooked, it has a unique flavor of its own.”

Officials confirmed that after repeated testing, the new product was harmless to humans, and combined the advantages of both sweet potatoes and melons, with extremely high nutritional value.

Finally, ten citizens were randomly selected from the comments to receive five pounds each of the new product for free.

Unsurprisingly, the post went viral.

Not only did netizens flood it with comments and shares, but soon an online craze erupted for awakened individuals posting pictures of their powers.

A fellow plant-type ability user posted a video of his own big yard.

He said emotionally, “As someone who kills any plant I try to raise, I have no idea why I awakened plant abilities, but reality is just this strange. Unlike the big boss at the Agricultural Institute, I can’t fuse plant genes—my power only makes plants grow faster. Here, let me show you my garden after just three days!”

The video showed a yard full of flowers of all kinds, blooming together in orderly beauty. Lush branches, vibrant blossoms, a scene breathtakingly gorgeous.

The naturally plant-loving Chinese netizens cried out in envy.

A girl who owned three cats posted her own clip.

Her awakening wasn’t a special power, but beastification.

In the video, two little gray ears grew on her head, her fingers sprouted sharp claws when she got excited, and her eyes turned into golden slit pupils.

The girl looked helpless. “Now my three babies think I’m one of them. They meow at me all day long—and the weird part is, sometimes I actually understand what they’re saying.”

Netizens: !!!

So cute!

We want to pet her!

Then a guy who could discharge electricity proudly showed off how he could charge phones and laptops with a touch, even changing his username to “Walking Power Bank.”

…

Meanwhile, foreign forces spying on China: ???

The same awakening of powers—why is the style here completely different from everywhere else?

In other countries, large-scale ability-user organizations had already formed. They openly opposed governments, demanding more rights.

Some, intoxicated by their sudden power, lost control of their desires. According to reports, in the last month and a half, robbery and murder cases worldwide almost equaled an entire year’s worth.

In some places, government officials were even assassinated—just for criticizing ability-user chaos online.

Tensions between ordinary people and ability users were escalating, and some nations had even deployed armies to hunt them down.

Against this backdrop, China looked absurdly harmonious.

Why were their ability users so obedient? Why, after gaining such power, were they still content to live like ordinary people—using fire abilities to cook, plant abilities to farm? Was this real?

Didn’t the government fear unrest by letting these dangerous people live freely? Didn’t ordinary citizens fear that someone who could kill them with a gesture lived next door? Why were they laughing it off?

Foreign powers couldn’t make sense of it. Quietly, they started to view China’s free-roaming ability users as fat sheep.

Almost every awakened person who hadn’t hidden their identity online received all kinds of “invitations.”

All with the same theme: your talents are wasted like this. Join us—we’ll give you supreme status and wealth.

Good move—China’s awakened immediately reported these accounts to Dragon Fang.

Gu Zhao followed the clues. The quick-witted slipped away, but the not-so-smart ones were all tracked down by Dragon Fang.

Injected with ability suppressants, they were all dumped onto Mu Xing as laborers.

A few months later, foreign organizations watched the Agricultural Institute’s official channel in disbelief—spotting their own former comrades.

Wearing straw hats, shorts, and slippers, they stood expressionless in fields, digging dirt, weeding, planting crops. Utterly miserable.

Some protested, accusing China of violating international norms by illegally detaining foreign ability users, suspecting they were weakening other nations this way.

General Tian would chuckle and say, “What are you talking about? I don’t understand. When did we detain your ability users? Be specific. Oh, that farmer? He’s just a regular farmhand. You say he’s your ability user? Then explain—why would your people suddenly appear on China soil without registration? Was it illegal entry, perhaps…”

In the end, no one could explain clearly, and the matter always fizzled out.

But within China, things were different.

Every ability user who had trained at the base knew exactly whose fields those prisoners were working.

They belonged to their ruthless Instructor Mu.

At first, this fact only circulated among awakened circles. Eventually, it spread online.

Netizens suddenly understood: this was the devil instructor’s new punishment.

An awakened person forbidden to use their powers, forced to dig under the sun like a common farmer—what could be more brutal?

Cruel! Heartless!

The title of Devil Instructor was truly deserved!

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Ch 187: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

And whenever they ran into some disobedient troublemaker, that’s when Mu Xing stepped in.

At those times, Mu Xing would slowly get up and leisurely summon two vines.

He wasn’t a violent person, didn’t like fighting, preferred friendly and peaceful ways to solve problems.

Those hot-headed young men would end up hanging upside down, strung across the main path for everyone to see.

With their enhanced bodies, ability users had tough skin and strong endurance. Hanging there for two days without food or water didn’t actually hurt them, just left them hungrier than usual.

Aside from the humiliation, the most terrifying part was this: they discovered the plants binding them could actually absorb their powers, just like some ability-draining technique from a novel.

No one dared act up in front of Mu Xing again.

The nickname “Devil Instructor” began spreading among the trainees, and soon, to every new ability user entering the base.

Later, it spread to the internet.

All the netizens online knew: the ability-user base had a Devil Instructor, super fierce. Every awakened person sent there would be stripped of a layer of skin under his watch!

It was even rumored that his power was connected to the ancient Ten Tortures, terrifying enough to make people cry for their parents.

Some even analyzed it seriously, claiming that based on the rumors, the Devil Instructor’s close friend must have studied law, and was proficient in every type of punishment throughout history — that’s why he knew how to torment people so well.

Mu Xing: …

That day, Gu Zhao received a phone call from Li Jin.

Gu Zhao brought it to Mu Xing.

Hearing the matter, Mu Xing’s spirit sharpened.

Li Jin said he had noticed people following him these past few days.

Yesterday, he confronted the two stalkers, demanding to know what they wanted.

They invited Li Jin to join their organization.

According to Li Jin, both men were Asian in appearance. One spoke fluent Mandarin, but the other’s accent was stiff and clumsy — very likely a foreigner.

Li Jin told Gu Zhao: “Major Gu, I suspect they’re up to something! But they’re ability users too. I’m not sure I can take them both down. If they escape, I’m worried they’ll retaliate against my parents. Requesting support!”

Gu Zhao thought they might be the same group who had once sought out Mu Xing.

Mu Xing agreed — it sounded like Zero. In the original storyline, this group frantically recruited ability users in the early days.

The original body’s hatred for that organization was unshakable.

Right now he was tied up, still needed as a figurehead to steady the ability users at the base. But once things settled, he absolutely intended to visit Zero’s headquarters.

A nest of scum like that was better off burned to the ground.

Li Jin’s home was in Xiangnan City, not far from the capital.

After discussing, Mu Xing and Gu Zhao decided to check it out personally.

They brought along three of Dragon Fang’s newest members.

That afternoon, they arrived in Xiangnan City.

That night, Li Jin followed their instructions and arranged to meet the two men in a park corner.

The two had originally suggested a bar. But Li Jin, not wanting ordinary people caught up in a fight, put on a righteous face: “I’m still underage! How could I go into a place like a bar?!”

The two men: “…”

They thought: Chinese kids sure are strictly disciplined.

At 10:30 that night, Li Jin arrived at the agreed spot, a lamplit bench.

He sat down, and from the “mole” on him, Mu Xing’s voice came: “They’re here.”

His body tensed, eyes darting around — where?

Over a minute later, two tall, thin figures finally appeared in his field of vision.

They moved like cats, silent in the night.

Li Jin marveled inwardly: spotted from so far away… Instructor Mu really is that strong.

In the dark, Mu Xing narrowed his eyes.

Through the plants, he saw their faces clearly.

Both looked familiar.

One was among those who had taken him during his own awakening.

The other was a face he often saw when lying on the experiment table in the original plot.

As expected — Zero.

The two men approached Li Jin.

“Young Master Li,” one said, “you told us you needed two days to think it over. Tonight, you’ll give us your answer. So — what have you decided?”

Li Jin answered: “I’ve thought about it carefully. I’ve decided to refuse you.”

The man on the left’s face darkened. “Why?”

He barked angrily: “China doesn’t value you at all! Great ability users like us deserve proper treatment! If you join us, wealth, power, beauty — whatever you want, you can have it!”

Li Jin looked at them in confusion: “What does it mean to be valued? Do you want me ranked as a first-class citizen? But what did ordinary people do wrong? My parents are still ordinary. I even worried my classmates wouldn’t accept me, but everyone’s been natural about it. I really like my life right now.”

“Besides, it’s not like I lack money. I’ve got a parkour delivery side job. They give me special orders that customers scramble to claim, and the commission is high. They even ask for selfies with me every time!”

The man who spoke before roared again, voice full of frustration: “You’ve been blessed by heaven, chosen as an ability user! Why is your thinking still so mediocre? We are the ones favored by destiny, we wield powerful abilities. This is a sign from the heavens — we should be the rulers of this planet!”

Li Jin: “…”

He looked at the man like he was an idiot, then took a step back.

“I’m long past the age of being interested in middle-school shounen manga.”

“Besides,” he asked strangely, “if I join you guys, do I have to go abroad? What about my parents, my friends?”

The man said coldly, “You’ve already become a superhuman. All those worldly burdens must naturally be cut off.”

Li Jin: “…”

He looked at the two of them speechlessly. “I think you’re just a bunch of lunatics!”

The man glared darkly at him. “You really don’t want to join us?”

Li Jin shook his head.

The man let out a cold laugh. Li Jin’s back went cold as two vines whipped past his body, seemingly trying to bind him.

“You two against one, and you don’t even announce it before attacking? No sense of honor!” While talking, his feet moved quickly, dodging a slice of wind.

So that was their supernatural ability.

Dodging, Li Jin shouted loudly, “I’m warning you—stop attacking, or I won’t hold back!”

The two naturally ignored him.

They had already revealed themselves in front of this youth; if he couldn’t be recruited, they couldn’t let him live.

Li Jin’s eyes shifted. “Fine, since you’re the ones without honor, don’t blame me.”

He suddenly dashed a hundred meters away and shouted, “Instructor! Someone’s playing with plants right in front of you—are you gonna let that slide?”

The two from Organization Zero froze.

Immediately, the hairs on their backs stood up.

The entire park “came alive.”

Countless plants surged, slender branches rising from the ground, weaving from all directions into a giant cage closing in on them.

Obviously meant to trap them inside.

The plant-type ability user was shocked at the sight.

He couldn’t imagine how much energy it took to mobilize this many plants.

Worse, when he tried to channel his own power, he found he could no longer control the plants around him.

The other ability user conjured blades of wind, trying to cut the branches.

But there were simply too many. Slice one down, and more immediately surged forward.

The two were trapped inside a square plant cage, unable to escape.

They shouted furiously, “Li Jin, you actually ambushed us!”

Li Jin snorted. “You ambushed me first—what right do you have to complain?”

Looking at the massive plant cage, he gave Mu Xing a thumbs up. “Every time I get a little proud of my own powers, Instructor Mu, you always show up and remind me that even as an ability user, I’m still just an ordinary one among them. This move is too cool!”

Sometimes, he really felt Mu Xing wasn’t even on the same level as them.

They were just people who awakened powers—basically ordinary folks with super abilities.

But when Instructor Mu used his plant ability, he didn’t seem human anymore.

He was like a god of plants!

The comparison with that other plant user made it obvious. Both had the same type of power, yet in front of Instructor Mu, the guy couldn’t even activate his abilities.

Mu Xing smiled as he accepted the praise.

The massive cage didn’t shrink further but held steady at about the size of a basketball court.

He said toward the back, “Great chance for combat practice. Go on.”

He even lifted his suppression on the plant user.

Three figures hesitated for a moment, then leapt through an opening into the cage.

Mu Xing waited, then asked curiously, “Major Gu, you’re not going?”

Gu Zhao replied calmly, “If I go too, they won’t get any chance to fight.”

Mu Xing thought for a moment, then nodded. “True enough. You’re too strong—these two aren’t enough for you.”

On the other side, the two enemies were furious. What did these Chinese people mean? Treating them like free sparring partners?

And that was exactly what they were.

With Mu Xing watching, every time the three trainees were about to get hurt, a vine would lash out and block the blow.

With nothing to worry about, the three freely pummeled the two captives.

Before long, Gu Zhao received a report in his earpiece: a suspicious figure had been spotted near Li Jin’s home, possibly a sniper with a silenced rifle.

Gu Zhao’s face darkened.

He told Li Jin.

Sure enough, Li Jin’s expression turned grim.

He demanded coldly, “Did you target my family?”

One of the trapped men, already battered and realizing escape was impossible, answered with venom, “Are they dead yet?”

Li Jin cursed furiously, then, with sheer speed, ripped open the plant cage and dashed inside.

Mu Xing was startled and focused sharply on him, only to see Li Jin, like a man in a berserk rage, violently pounding the two.

The three other trainees just stared, dumbstruck, frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Ch 116: My Multiverse Supermarket

As the quartermaster and supply officer responsible for managing the legion’s finances and logistics, Rebecca was highly skilled in calculations. With just a glance at the display shelf of elemental gemstones, she could quickly tally how many there were.

Blue crystals representing water: 18 pieces.
Red crystals representing fire: 22 pieces.
White crystals representing wind: 33 pieces.
Yellow crystals representing earth: 15 pieces.
Purple crystals representing lightning: 4 pieces.
Green crystals representing nature: 41 pieces.
Transparent crystal representing light: 1 piece.
Pink crystal representing life: 1 piece.
And even three dark purple crystals containing shadow elements!

A total of 138 elemental gemstones, worth 61,962 points, costing about 33 gold coins.

Yag’s dozen or so gold coins weren’t enough to buy them all, so Rebecca hurried out to have the other five paladins pool their money.

Yag asked, “What are you trying to buy? You need that much and still don’t have enough?”

Rebecca exclaimed, “You have no idea—there are 138 elemental gemstones in there!”

“What!?” The paladins stirred immediately at her words.

Yag stopped them before they could hand their money to Rebecca.

“Yag?” Rebecca looked at him in confusion.

Yag said, “Let me handle the negotiation.”

Then, swaggering, he walked back inside.

“You’re from the United Kingdom of Atmos?”

Zhou Li: “?”

“The United Kingdom of Atmos?”

Yag snorted coldly. “Don’t play dumb! The decorations here already give you away—rebellious, disrespectful, faithless barbarian!”

Zhou Li: “??”

What? Why was she being scolded out of nowhere?

Crossing her arms, she tilted her chin slightly. “You here to cause trouble?”

Yag said, “Those elemental gemstones are not something you can possess. Hand them over.”

Zhou Li couldn’t help but laugh.

She’d dealt with thieves, cheapskates who harassed her when they couldn’t get a bargain, and robbers who snatched things and ran—but this was the first time someone tried to extort her so brazenly.

“Black Raven Legion? You act more like the Black Raven Thieves.”

Before Yag could retort, Rebecca rushed in, slamming into him to push him aside.

“Yag Spark! What on earth are you doing?!” Rebecca’s voice cracked in shock at his stupidity.

She’d thought Yag had some clever plan—but it turned out he was trying to rob the place!

Trying to distance herself from him, Rebecca said quickly, “You misunderstand, madam! He’s not from the Black Raven Legion—he’s a paladin captain from the Church of the Holy Light. The Black Raven Legion would never commit robbery!”

Yag staggered from her shove but quickly steadied himself.

Angered by her words, he snapped, “Rebecca, why are you interfering?”

Rebecca secretly rolled her eyes.

Back in the airship command room, the mage had already warned them that the reason their magic array couldn’t scan inside this building was because it was protected by a barrier.

Anyone who could set up such a barrier was clearly no ordinary person relying only on technology.

Did Yag think that if he robbed her, the God of Light would personally save him?

Rebecca said, “Yag, don’t forget this mission is under my command. You’re just an assistant.”

Yag had no response.

Zhou Li could tell the two followed different faiths and came from different factions—working together only out of temporary alliance.

But so what?

She’d just been insulted and extorted. A simple apology wasn’t going to make her forgive them.

Zhou Li said to Yag, “You’re blacklisted. You’re not welcome here. Leave.”

Yag gripped his sword handle tightly but, under Rebecca’s push, left the store.

Rebecca kept apologizing—she really wanted those gemstones, after all.

This world was once dominated by magic.

But over the past century, magical energy had gradually waned, ushering in the Age of Diminished Magic.

As more people stopped believing in gods, divine power weakened even further.

The rise of machinery spurred technological progress, giving birth to the Steam Faction.

As belief in technology grew, this new form of faith created new gods.

Though young, these new gods grew rapidly in strength.

Some older deities—like the God of War—were tempted by this faith energy and switched sides.

Humans in the Steam Faction no longer needed divine oracles or rituals. Their love of machines and devotion to science became the greatest source of divine power.

The new gods didn’t need to grant divine spells; as long as their followers meditated (immersing themselves in the sea of knowledge), they would receive enlightenment and blessings.

The Magic Faction, on the other hand, still required baptism and prayer to gain magical knowledge and elemental power.

One way the gods responded to their followers was through elemental gemstones infused with divine magic.

Now, not only had magic energy dwindled, but elemental gemstones were also becoming scarce.

Even after scouring entire battlefields, the Black Raven Legion couldn’t gather 138 gemstones.

Zhou Li noticed Rebecca’s eagerness and said, “You don’t need to apologize for him. Once blacklisted, always blacklisted.”

Rebecca asked, “Then… do I still have a chance?”

“There is a way…”

Rebecca brightened, then looked troubled. Yag was blacklisted and unlikely to lend her money. She had no gold coins left—maybe she could trade something valuable?

“Wait, didn’t you mention valuable items can be exchanged for points?” Rebecca said, inspired. She pulled out a small vial of liquid.

The bottle held just five milliliters. When shaken, the liquid glowed faintly green.

“This is a potion brewed by the alchemist Ramanda. It’s called ‘Oath of Verity.’ Drop a single drop into water and drink it, and you’ll be bound by the Goddess of Oaths to speak only the truth.”

Zhou Li: …

That was basically a truth serum.

She wasn’t sure if it would work in a world where the Goddess of Oaths didn’t exist, but she decided to list it on the auction board anyway.

[Oath of Verity]
Age: 5 months
Date of Production: 1877
Owner: Rebecca (Black Raven Legion Quartermaster)
Starting Price: 38,220 (recommended)
Buyout Price: 50,000 (recommended)
Note: The Goddess of Oaths, who guards the River of Souls, will forever watch over you.

Zhou Li: ?

That sounded… dangerous. Good thing she wasn’t the one being watched.

“47,500 points—enough for 95 elemental gemstones. Would you like to proceed with the exchange?”

“Exchange!” Rebecca said, delighted. Who would have thought a potion worth only 5 gold could be traded for 95 gemstones? What a bargain!

“Oath of Verity” was a common alchemy recipe—cheap herbs, easy to make.

It did compel truth, but most people with secrets had ways to counteract it.

For example, paladins and priests could use spells to negate its effects.

Still, Rebecca couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

Why could something worth just 5 gold exchange for gemstones worth over a hundred?

Was there some hidden catch?

Zhou Li was unaware of her customer’s growing anxiety. “You can choose any 95 gemstones you like.”

Rebecca snapped out of it, deciding to stay alert.

As a follower of the War Goddess, she knew exactly which elements to choose.

The War Goddess often appeared as a black raven. Wherever she sought destruction, hurricanes would rise, toppling buildings and sweeping away enemies.

Thus, her followers often wielded wind magic.

Archers and rangers—like Rebecca herself—were especially attuned to wind.

Besides wind, she also picked fire, light, and life gemstones.

Fire mages in the Magic Council were always short on fire gems—she could sell those for a tidy profit.

Water gems could be used by ice mages.

As for lightning…

Rebecca grimaced.

The Sky God, master of thunder, now belonged to the Steam Faction. With airplanes and electricity spreading fast, his influence was growing rapidly.

She’d rather not touch that.

The remaining 20 she chose from nature elements.

The Steam Revolution had devastated nature, and human greed had weakened the Goddess of Nature. Druids who still followed her surely needed these gems.

After picking her gemstones, Rebecca looked longingly at the ones left behind, already planning to contact her commander for more funds.

Though the place was remote, others might soon detect the magical energy emanating from here and come to buy as well.

After completing the trade, Zhou Li restocked the shelf.

Rebecca stared in disbelief as Zhou Li scooped up a large handful of fresh elemental gemstones from a basket.

Rebecca: “?”

She gasped, “These are all elemental gemstones? How do you have so many?”

Zhou Li: “Yup.”

Freshly mined sea fluorite, like most minerals, was bulky and irregular—made of clusters of many colored crystals fused together.

When Zhou Li brought them back, they were still raw and unseparated.

After extracting the crystals, she ended up with hundreds of gemstones—enough to fill an entire basket.

Rebecca: “…”

She’d spent all that time agonizing over which gems to buy—for nothing!

In despair, she asked, “Did you dig through the whole Elemental Storm Canyon?!”

Zhou Li: …What’s that place supposed to be?

She didn’t answer.

Rebecca saw even larger, purer crystals—clearly higher-quality gemstones—and instantly regretted her choices.

Could she return the old ones and buy new ones instead?

Unfortunately, the better ones were 100 points more expensive, as they were priced by weight.

“Miss, could you please hold those aside for me? I’ll go prepare the money right now.” Rebecca decided to take a roundabout approach.

Zhou Li refused politely. “Pre-orders require full payment upfront.”

Rebecca had only some basic potions and scrolls left.

The potions wouldn’t sell for much, and the scrolls were her emergency assets—she couldn’t give those up.

Finally, she pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote an official requisition order as a quartermaster, dispatching a paladin to rush back to the Vitas Outpost to draw funds for “military supplies.”

[Author’s Note]

Boss Zhou: The magical elements from your world probably leaked into another dimension. [dog emoji]

In the corner, the Goddess of Nature: “Pray for me.” [angry emoji]

——

The gods in this story are a mix of Greek, Roman, Celtic, and Norse mythology—a big blend.

Classes like ice mage, fire mage, ranger, druid, and paladin are inspired by various RPG game settings.

☢️☢️☢️

Ch 115: My Multiverse Supermarket

Steam and Magic: Revolution

The blazing sun scorched the ground.

Across the boundless wilderness, vegetation was sparse.

Beside two acacia trees stood a three-story residential building.

Not far away, in a patch of muddy ground, a young giraffe lay dead while several hyenas tore at its flesh.

A few more hyenas prowled near the building.

Inside the supermarket—

Zhou Li had plenty to complain about. “Didn’t you say this world was one of steam and magic?” she asked the system.

Steam and magic—just the name evoked the style of steampunk.

She’d imagined an era at the crossroads of the Middle Ages and the Industrial Revolution—something like Victorian London.

So why did everything around her look like an African savanna in the dry season?

“You’re sure we didn’t end up in some random plane?”

The system replied, “This is the Steam and Magic Plane. It’s just that the Emerald Wasteland is a no-man’s-land—neither under the jurisdiction of the Science Faction nor restricted by the Magic Faction.”

Zhou Li sighed. “Got it. So neither side wants us.”

“Quite the opposite,” the system said. “Both factions offered several cities for settlement. But for long-term trade, the Emerald Wasteland is the most strategic location.”

Zhou Li: …

She had really wanted to see what a world of coexisting magic and technology looked like!

“Out of all these planes, it seems only the interstellar one had a normal setup.”

The ancient plane was on a mountain range, the zombie plane on a remote island, this one was an ‘African savanna,’ and the infinite plane was the most absurd—no fixed location at all.

The system cheerfully said, “Isn’t that great? You get to see all kinds of natural landscapes without leaving your store—mountains, beaches, alien ice worlds, and now the grasslands. The infinite plane even lets you explore local towns, so you can experience the life of a grassroots civil servant in advance.”

Zhou Li: …

Suddenly, An Fengxuan—who was at the door, exploring this “new world”—called out, “Boss, there’s an airship floating above!”

Zhou Li leaned out and saw a huge, round, bulbous airship drifting through the sky.

It moved slowly from east to west—“floating” was exactly the right word for it.

An Fengxuan murmured, “Is that powered by magic or by technology?”

The airship looked like an inflated pufferfish balloon, complete with propellers, suggesting a technological design.

But in many fantasy settings, airships were magically powered, so it was impossible to tell which faction it belonged to.

Zhou Li pulled out the sea fluorite crystals and packaging bags from under the counter. “Who cares what it is? Back to work.”

“Got it, boss.”

When the airship bearing the insignia of the “Black Raven” passed overhead, everyone in sight panicked and hid.

Inside the command cabin—

Commander Front was listening to a report from his subordinates when the magic array at the center of the room suddenly glowed faintly.

The light immediately drew everyone’s attention.

The mage at the console turned to Front. “Commander, there’s a reading of magical elements coming from the Emerald Wasteland.”

Front said, “Find out what’s causing it.”

The mage raised his staff and chanted a spell. The glowing area of the magic array rapidly expanded.

Through the projection, everyone could now see a peculiar-looking house standing in the middle of the wasteland.

The mage frowned. “The house appears to be protected by a barrier. I can’t see inside, but I can confirm the presence of elemental gemstones.”

The moment he spoke, shadows in the room rippled, and a low whispering “buzz” came from all directions.

The soldiers around Front began to sweat, frozen in place.

“Silence!” Front barked.

The shadows stilled.

He rubbed his brow and spoke in a calm tone. “I understand this discovery excites you all—but we are not in Mayrelia. How do you know this isn’t a plot by Atmos? Besides, the readings show only a small amount of elemental energy—not enough to sustain the Magic Council’s daily use.”

The buzzing rose again, louder this time.

Front listened intently, then said, “Understood. I’ll send someone to investigate.”

When silence returned, the soldiers finally relaxed.

Front said, “Summon Rebecca and Yag.”

Quartermaster Rebecca and Paladin Captain Yag quickly arrived.

Front pointed to the map on the magic array. “We detected elemental energy here. The airship will land at Vitas Outpost. You and Yag will lead a squad of paladins to investigate.”

“Yes, sir!” Rebecca replied. She had many questions but, as an officer, knew her duty was simply to follow orders.

Vitas Outpost was one of the Magic Faction’s fortresses in the Emerald Wasteland—built to monitor and counter the Steam Faction’s activities there.

It was roughly 30 miles (48.28 km) from the site of the elemental reading—a five-hour ride by horse.

However, the wasteland was home to an animal called the landrunner, whose strength and speed rivaled a horse’s and whose adaptability to the terrain made it an ideal mount once trained.

After the airship landed at the outpost, Rebecca and Yag set off immediately with five paladins, each astride a trained landrunner.

Before sunset, they finally reached the peculiar house glowing under the acacia trees.

At that same moment, Zhou Li—after several focused hours—finished packaging the sea fluorite crystals and neatly arranged them on the shelves.

An Fengxuan stretched her cramped fingers. “Boss, I’m going to make dinner.”

Ever since partially leaving the Infinite World, An Fengxuan had picked up a new skill—cooking.

After being tormented by the bland food of the Infinite World, her standards for taste had become extremely high.

She’d put great effort into learning culinary arts, and her cooking was now far superior to Zhou Li’s.

Zhou Li had since delegated all meals to her, taking care only of preparing ingredients.

“Go ahead,” Zhou Li said. “I bought some beef brisket—you can make braised brisket rice.”

“Perfect,” An Fengxuan said, hurrying upstairs.

The smell of food soon drifted out from the stairwell.

Just then, Zhou Li heard the miserable cries of hyenas outside.

When she looked, she saw a massive hammer come crashing down, smashing the skull of a leaping hyena.

Zhou Li let out a hiss. For some reason, she thought: though the hyenas were dead, at least they’d had a good meal before dying. Maybe, when they reached the underworld, they’d count as “cats that died full.”
After all, despite their name, hyenas aren’t canines—they belong to the feliform suborder, family Hyaenidae.

“Nice, another general knowledge question reviewed,” Zhou Li muttered to herself.

System: …

Once the beasts around the area were cleared, Yag blocked Rebecca’s path.

His face darkened as he glared at the glowing sign outside the building. “That’s not a magical artifact.”

Everyone knew that in nations devoted to eternal magic, most objects used by people were magical in nature.

But the light box before them gave off no trace of magical energy—it was clearly an industrial product.

Using industrial products meant one thing: an enemy of their faith!

“So it is a trap by Atmos!” Yag’s words made the paladins lift their hammers, ready to strike.

Rebecca pressed a hand to stop him. “Don’t act rashly. You all wait outside. I’ll go in and take a look.”

With that, she stepped inside first.

Bright light enveloped her, and an irreverent thought suddenly crossed her mind—the brightness was comparable to the Holy Light of the God of Light Himself.

Lamps could stay lit indefinitely, while divine light could not last long.

Realizing her thought was blasphemous, she quickly cast it aside.

Zhou Li greeted her with her signature smile. “Welcome to Good Life Supermarket.”

Rebecca didn’t understand the word “supermarket.” Her eyes were drawn instead to the colorful “gems” on display.

The moment she realized what they were, her pupils contracted.

“Elemental gemstones!”

Following her gaze, Zhou Li looked over—and saw that the “gems” were indeed sea fluorite.

So sea fluorite in this plane was equivalent to elemental gemstones?

Did that mean the zombie plane also had magical elements?

But then, why were sea fluorites only found in the ocean?

Did that imply that in the zombie plane, magical elements existed only in the sea—or even just the seabed?

Zhou Li had no way of knowing.

Breathing quickly, Rebecca asked, “Why do you have elemental gemstones here?”

“Sorry,” Zhou Li said, “that’s a trade secret.”

Rebecca composed herself, then introduced formally, “I am Rebecca, quartermaster of the Black Raven Legion.”

“The Black Raven Legion?” Zhou Li echoed.

Rebecca hadn’t expected her not to recognize the name.

But since this was the Emerald Wasteland, a place cut off from both sides’ influence, it wasn’t too strange that locals knew little of the outside world.

She explained, “The Black Raven Legion is a military force under Homoleia. We are followers of the War Goddess.”

Zhou Li said, “Oh…”

Outwardly calm, she was already tapping furiously at the system. “Which faction does the War Goddess belong to?”

This was basic enough for the system to answer.

“The Magic Faction. But the Steam Faction also has a God of War—her twin brother. He caused so much chaos that the War Goddess and the Goddess of Wisdom beat him senseless, and he defected to the Steam Faction. Those who study tanks, firearms, and ammunition—the war academics—are his followers.”

Zhou Li asked, “So if magic and missiles went head-to-head, who’d win?”

System: “If you stay in this plane long enough, you might one day find out.”

“No thanks,” Zhou Li replied. “Earth loves me, and I love Earth.”

System: …

Rebecca sensed no hostility from her, which eased her nerves a little.

At least this woman wasn’t from an enemy faction.

Rebecca asked, “May I ask if these elemental gemstones are for sale?”

“Of course,” Zhou Li said. “Prices are listed above.”

Rebecca’s heart leapt—until she glanced at the price tag and froze. “Four hundred ninety-nine… gold?”

That wasn’t expensive at all.

But Zhou Li’s next words shattered her illusion.

“I don’t take gold directly. You need to exchange valuable items for the store’s currency—member points. You can only use points to purchase goods here.”

Rebecca understood the idea of member points.

Many factions and organizations had their own internal currencies used for trade.

For example, soldiers of the Black Raven Legion had to exchange merit badges for extra equipment or supplies.

“So this means… 499 points?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes.”

“Please wait a moment.” Rebecca stepped outside.

Yag immediately came forward. “Well? What did you find?”

Instead of answering, Rebecca asked, “Do you have any gold coins on you?”

Puzzled, Yag pulled out a pouch containing the remainder of his monthly pay—about a dozen gold coins.

Ordinary soldiers earned one gold coin per month; as a captain, he earned twenty.

The five paladins with him each earned ten.

As quartermaster, Rebecca’s pay was even higher, but she didn’t usually carry much with her.

Taking Yag’s coins, she went back inside.

“How many points can these be exchanged for?” she asked.

Zhou Li examined the coin, which bore a woman’s profile. “May I ask who this is?”

“That is Homoleia—the High Priestess who serves the War Goddess,” Rebecca said reverently.

“I see,” Zhou Li nodded. “These can be exchanged for 1,913 points. But since the coins aren’t yours, you can’t register a membership card.”

Each coin weighed 4.37 grams, with 60% purity—about 14k gold.
At a rate of 461 yuan per gram, its value was 2,014.57 yuan.
After deducting a transaction fee, it came to 1,913.84 yuan.

Zhou Li rounded down the decimals.

Rebecca quickly calculated—one gold coin could buy nearly four elemental gemstones.

Her breathing grew faster.

[Author’s Note]
This plane follows a steampunk aesthetic. Elements such as the “landrunner” and “quartermaster” were inspired by World of Warcraft.

☢️☢️☢️

Ch 114: My Multiverse Supermarket

Julia Bates personally came to the Good Life Supermarket to sign for the latest shipment of supplies. As they chatted, Zhou Li casually asked, “Does Mia have ships?”

Julia smiled. “Of course. Mia has oceans, too. But the weather’s gotten so bad that the sea surface has frozen over. All ships are trapped in the ice—no one can sail.”

“No icebreakers?” Zhou Li asked.

“We have them,” Julia said. “But the cost is too high. Ships aren’t very useful here. On Blue Star, ships serve for transport, patrols, research, and tourism. Mia has more efficient ways to handle all those things. Under these conditions, using orka fuel for icebreaking would be a waste.”

Zhou Li suddenly understood.

Right—Mia already had cargo spacecraft, much faster than sea transport.

“So what powers your ships, then?”

“The old surface vessels use orka reactors that release energy to drive steam turbines. Industrial-class ships can both sail and fly. They have dual systems…” Julia explained patiently, like a lecturer.

She even gave an example: one of Bates Industrial’s traditional research vessels used only thirty kilograms of orka fuel and had sailed for seventeen years at a steady twenty-five knots.

Zhou Li’s eyes shone.

According to Earth’s data, a nuclear-powered carrier with two reactors used about four tons of uranium per refueling, allowing it to travel a million nautical miles and operate for thirteen years.

Compared to that, a ship that ran for seventeen years on thirty kilograms of orka—clearly orka was vastly more efficient. Even a “cloud scientist” like her could tell which energy source was superior.

When Julia finished, she looked at her. “Thinking of buying a ship?”

Zhou Li waved her hand quickly. “No, I don’t need one.”

But she hesitated, then described Newborn Island’s situation hypothetically: “…Under those conditions, how many reactors and how much fuel would be needed to move it?”

Julia raised an eyebrow. “A one-knot cruising speed? That’s barely moving. Almost any power system could handle that. You wouldn’t need orka at all, though it would be more efficient. If such an artificial island really exists, one arc2.6 reactor would suffice. But for safety, build two—one as backup. Five hundred kilograms of orka fuel would power it for over two million nautical miles.”

Zhou Li said, “One will do. If it breaks, I’ll switch to traditional power.”

Julia chuckled. “So you really do have such an island.”

Zhou Li froze—she’d let it slip. “…Something like that. Not exactly mine, though.”

Thankfully, Julia didn’t press.

“How much is an arc2.6 reactor?” Zhou Li asked.

“About four million orka credits.”

Zhou Li instantly thought of the medical capsule on her third floor that had cost around two to three million yuan. It had seemed pricey at the time—but compared to a reactor, that was nothing. After all, it could treat ALS and other fatal illnesses.

She remembered Sophia’s sleek hovercar and asked curiously, “The Moonshadow X—it runs on orka too, right?”

“Yes,” Julia said. “It’s equipped with two SLG-7 reactors, dual-mode for both ground travel and high-altitude flight.”

That was a Bates Industrial flagship design. Julia knew it well.

Zhou Li wanted one, but she couldn’t afford even the smaller reactor.

Seeing her silence, Julia said kindly, “Bates still has a few unused fishing vessels. They use the older arc2.0 reactors—less powerful, phased out from new designs. Only small fishing companies still use them, so we kept the production line open. After the climate worsened, most fishing firms went bankrupt. Their ships were never delivered—just left sitting in the docks. If you’re interested, they’re available for seventy thousand orka credits.”

Zhou Li said, “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

After inspecting the goods, Julia left—but not before gifting Zhou Li a present.

When Zhou Li opened it, she almost cried out—it was a working agricultural light synthesizer!

Julia smiled. “Paul Bowman was stingy to sell you that broken one. You don’t need to waste time fixing it now.”

Seeing its auction price listed at eight million, Zhou Li nearly wanted to hug the woman’s leg and call her “Grandma.”

Still, she said earnestly, “That’s an incredibly valuable gift. I could trade it for a lot of supplies. Are you sure?”

Julia smiled warmly. “It might be worth a lot to you, but compared to our friendship, it’s just an ordinary gift.”

She was no fool. A bond built only on trade was cold and fragile—easily broken. Human connections, however, were much harder to sever.

Zhou Li understood. “Then I’ll accept it gratefully.”

Now that she had a functioning light synthesizer, the broken one was useless.

She put it up for auction—and within seconds, it sold for two million. After the five percent fee, she pocketed 1.9 million.

But the sum barely excited her anymore.

She was used to billion-level transactions. Watching money flow in and out had become routine.

Besides, surrounded by so many temptations—gadgets, technology, weapons—this little fortune wouldn’t last long.

For instance, she now wanted a light-brain wristwatch.

Lin Jianshan had told her that even a basic one cost 120,000 orka credits. With the current exchange rate of 1 orka = 80 yuan, that was 9.6 million yuan.

No wonder she couldn’t even afford that seventy-thousand-orca fishing ship, let alone a new reactor.

Still, Zhou Li had her stash of orka energy crystals.

Each crystal could power a light-brain watch for eight years—or a light synthesizer for over a year.

At Mia’s current market rate, one crystal sold for twenty thousand orka credits.

She had over sixty in storage, and her “Treasure-Spitting Toad” kept producing three more every day.

If she sold them all, she could earn 1.2 million orka easily.

But she didn’t dare sell too many—her machines and medical pods still ran on orka.

And if Mia’s political situation suddenly worsened, the orka supply could be disrupted. She needed a reserve.

Meanwhile, she’d also been buying more medicine—particularly the multi-stage ALS treatment.

The first stage stabilized symptoms.
The second repaired neurons—it took the longest and consumed the most medicine.
The third focused on rehabilitation.

The full course cost over eight hundred thousand orka credits.

When she had saved An Yixiao’s life using the medical pod, it hadn’t cost nearly as much—the surgery was simple, and the drugs were cheap.

Zhou Li sold ten of her orka crystals to buy the first stage and the first cycle of the second.

The rest, she’d wait until City Hall negotiated lower prices with Wolf Pharmaceuticals.

Zhou Li stayed in the interstellar realm for three days.

An Fengxuan had expected them to head to either the ancient or the zombie world, but Zhou Li told her, “We’re going to open a new market.”

“I thought all these worlds were already enough to keep you busy,” An Fengxuan said.

The more worlds they served, the shorter their stay in each one.

In the zombie world, for example, they’d been gone over twenty days—how long could Qi Jiayu’s team hold out without them?

Zhou Li smiled. “Actually, fewer and fewer worlds need us to stay long. Take this one—the people of Mia have begun finding their own way to survive. Even if we vanished, they’d make it eventually.”

Mia’s problems weren’t just environmental collapse—social divisions, famine, and despair. Yet since the supermarket appeared, most of those had eased.

Now, with cooperation between the major factions, the short-term migration program had started.

And since City Hall had a stable, long-term supply contract with the supermarket, even if Zhou Li stopped showing up for a month, Mia’s people wouldn’t starve.

They could also pre-order goods through their light-brain watches and collect them from vending machines with a single tap. Efficiency was sky-high.

In just three days, the supermarket served fifty thousand customers.

The stock ran so low that Zhou Li had to order the system to compile a new list while she purchased emergency supplies from the auction hub.

She had a hunch: once Mia fully recovered and found its own path, their interplanetary trade would end.

And so it would be with the other worlds too.

That was probably why the system kept urging her to expand into new markets.

[Author’s Note]

The “Magic and Science” world will likely be the final major realm to unfold [dog-head emoji].

☢️☢️☢️

Ch 113: My Multiverse Supermarket

Zhou Li and her small supermarket had stayed long enough in the zombie-ridden world. She still had other worlds to visit, so she asked Qi Jiayu to issue a notice announcing that Newborn Island would be closed.

On the day of closure, no one would be allowed to enter or leave the island.

Qi Jiayu knew this meant the Little Boss’s departure was imminent, and she did everything she could to cooperate.

Du Xiaogan said, “Even though there aren’t many people on the island, there will still be some who try to sneak in.”

She knew this well—after all, she herself had once snuck in.

Qi Jiayu replied, “Then we’ll have to ask Major Xu to assist.”

Although Xu Jiayi didn’t understand why Newborn Island needed to be closed, she had benefited greatly from her cooperation with them, so she was willing to dispatch patrol boats to stop any Lonewind Island civilians from crossing.

Still, she warned Qi Jiayu, “Su Wujun’s ships haven’t left yet. The Li family may soon send people to condemn Newborn Island.”

Li Zairen had been desperate to divert the Li family’s attention, but once news spread that the Su family had begun trading with Newborn Island, the loss of his three escort ships would surely become the perfect excuse for them to launch an attack.

Xu Jiayi even suspected that Newborn Island’s closure might be a strategic move to avoid conflict with the Li family.

…

Zhou Li herself had no idea that her decision to close the island would spark so many speculations.

Her original plan was to announce the closure, stay for two more days, and deliberately lure out whoever was watching in the shadows—so she could make an example of them.

But An Fengxuan told her, “Real snakes don’t show themselves when you start rattling the grass. They’ll wait. Their strike will come days later. How long can you afford to stay here?”

Zhou Li thought about it and agreed.

The first three days after closure would be filled with Lonewind Island civilians trying to sneak in.

Even if they triggered the island’s defense system and got punished, it wouldn’t stop the Li and Su families from sending scouts later.

By the third day, both families would likely dispatch suicide squads to test the waters.

If Zhou Li wasn’t around and the defense system didn’t activate, they would soon realize that Newborn Island’s strength was only a facade.

By the time Zhou Li returned, the island could already have changed hands.

Qi Jiayu and the others were deeply troubled.

Then Du Xiaogan, confused, asked, “What exactly happens after the island is closed?”

Everyone fell silent—they had forgotten that since joining the logistics team, Du Xiaogan had begun attending meetings.

But they had never told her about the Little Boss’s origins or the true situation of Newborn Island.

Qi Jiayu turned to Zhou Li. “Should we tell her?”

Zhou Li smiled faintly. “I’ll explain.”

She paused, then said to Du Xiaogan, “You may have already guessed—Newborn Island wasn’t built by us. As for its origins, I won’t go into detail. You can check the archives at the operations center if you’re curious.

“What you need to know is this: I’m leaving to find medicine that can treat your sister. It’ll take around ten to twenty days. During that time, the island’s defensive systems will temporarily shut down. Any armed group could seize Newborn Island easily.”

Zhou Li wasn’t lying.

She did plan to travel to the interstellar realm to purchase an Orka energy core to replace the island’s current power source—and she’d also look for a cure for ALS—but that wasn’t her main reason for leaving.

Still, the promise of a possible cure was motivation enough to ensure Du Xiaogan would never betray Newborn Island’s secret.

Du Xiaogan’s eyes hardened with determination. “I’ll protect Newborn Island with my life.”

Qi Jiayu said, “That’s admirable—but we can’t defend it alone.”

Du Xiaogan thought for a while. “Maybe we can cooperate with Major Xu. Have her station troops here while the Little Boss is away. But Newborn Island might need to offer her something in return.”

Qi Jiayu asked, “What could she want besides supplies?”

“She wants to break Lonewind Island’s blockade.”

Buying resources from Newborn Island helped, yes—but the Li family’s blockade still strangled her operations.

She couldn’t just stay on the defensive forever. To survive, she’d have to strike back someday—but she lacked the power to do so.

Du Xiaogan then asked Zhou Li, “As long as you’re here, the defense system works, right?”

“Yes,” Zhou Li said. “But it only reacts defensively.”

Du Xiaogan smiled slightly. “Then that means Newborn Island really does have the strength to destroy escort ships. That’s exactly what Major Xu needs. The Little Boss can move Newborn Island closer to the Dusa Archipelago. The Li family won’t dare touch it, and if they attack, they’ll be countered. When they’re too busy fending for themselves, the blockade around Lonewind will crumble.”

A sly glint flickered in her eyes.

Zhou Li: …

So she wanted Newborn Island to play the troublemaker.

An Fengxuan leaned in and whispered, “Little Boss, that’s actually a great plan. Our original goal in taking Newborn Island was to open the supermarket to the whole world, wasn’t it? If we’re going global, swinging by Dusa along the way isn’t a big deal.”

Zhou Li sighed. “…Fine. So who’s going to negotiate with Major Xu?”

“I’ll do it,” Qi Jiayu volunteered.

She had always handled external affairs, and now that they had a clear direction and bargaining chip, it made sense for her to take the lead.

No one objected.

…

After negotiations, Xu Jiayi agreed to send fifty soldiers to Newborn Island for patrol and defense duty.

Before Zhou Li departed, An Fengxuan handed Du Xiaogan a doll and a stack of talisman papers.

Du Xiaogan blinked. “What’s this?”

An Fengxuan explained, “Take one drop of your sister’s blood and smear it on the doll’s forehead. Then place one of these talismans on someone else. That person will mimic your sister’s movements exactly.”

Du Xiaogan frowned. “Wouldn’t that make them unable to move?”

An Fengxuan smiled sweetly.

And suddenly Du Xiaogan understood—this was meant as a weapon. Anyone who broke into the island and got marked would instantly lose all mobility, just like her paralyzed sister.

An Fengxuan added, “The doll must carry your sister’s blood. The person marked by the talisman will move in sync with her until the paper is torn off.”

Du Xiaogan thought of everyone on the island and realized no one’s movements were more restricted than her sister’s.

She opened her mouth as if to object, but An Fengxuan cut her off. “It’s borrowed, not gifted. You don’t need to know what it is.”

Why Du Xiaogan, specifically?

Because, in An Fengxuan’s eyes, she was skilled yet predictable—the perfect choice.

So Du Xiaogan said nothing more.

Soon after, she and the others watched as the small supermarket vanished before their eyes.

Lin Xiaole’s eyes bulged wide. “They’re not… aliens, are they? Maybe that house was actually a spaceship?”

“Why not deities?” Fang Qin suggested. “Fengxuan feels more like a being with divine powers.”

Qi Jiayu asked thoughtfully, “Do you think they might be connected to the zombie virus? I don’t mean they caused it, but… could they have a cure or vaccine?”

Du Xiaogan shook her head. “If they did, they would’ve used it by now.”

After all, the Little Boss already had access to drugs that could treat ALS. If she had a cure for the zombie virus, she wouldn’t hide it.

After sending An Fengxuan back to the Infinite Realm for vacation, Zhou Li returned briefly to Earth.

She restocked her supermarket’s warehouse and ordered a fresh shipment of vegetables from local farmers.

She added several new fruits and vegetables to the inventory and expanded the meat selection beyond just pork to include beef and lamb.

The system questioned her. “If you want produce and meat, you could just buy them through the auction hub.”

Zhou Li replied, “The supermarket’s sales volume might have skyrocketed since we added more worlds, but it’s still a small supermarket. I want it to stay that way—at least on the surface.”

Ever since she became a supplier across worlds, her trades often reached billions in value. Sometimes she forgot she even ran a supermarket.

But she didn’t want to lose herself in the multiverse. She couldn’t forget who she was—or what she stood for.

So on Earth, she still ran her shop as if it were just a modest local store making under a thousand yuan a day.

Once she had the new products and prices synced to the store’s app, she finally relaxed.

That’s when Mu Kun wandered in.

The moment she entered, she noticed a large basket of colorful stones on the counter—each about the size of a pigeon egg, irregularly shaped, crystal clear but neither gemstone nor glass.

Zhou Li was sealing them in OPP plastic bags.

Mu Kun glanced at the unfinished labels. “Sea fluorite? Is that a type of fluorite?”

Zhou Li looked surprised. “You know fluorite, Aunt Mu?”

Mu Kun gave a small laugh. “Of course I do. I know every kind of pretty gem there is. But I’ve never heard of sea fluorite—and I’ve certainly never seen fluorite this beautiful.”

Zhou Li smiled. “It’s a new craft stone. A bit pricey, though.”

“Oh, it’s an ornament stone! Perfect—I’ve been meaning to fix my necklace.” Mu Kun began picking a few pieces out of the basket.

She hesitated, though, because they were expensive—499 yuan each for a 50-gram stone.

Zhou Li had bought the sea fluorite from the zombie world through the auction system at 7 yuan per gram.

Since she thought it might be useful in the magic world, she purchased all of it under the supermarket’s account—about 350 yuan per piece. Selling them at 499 yuan meant a profit of 149 yuan each.

Mu Kun ended up choosing three.

Zhou Li blinked in surprise. “Aunt Mu, you’re buying three?”

“The other two are gifts,” she said cheerfully. “My friend’s daughter is getting married—I’ll have them made into earrings and a hairpiece.”

Zhou Li thought about it. The auction system hadn’t flagged any radiation or health hazards, so she said nothing.

“Give me a discount, hmm?” Mu Kun grinned.

Zhou Li was used to small-town bargaining. It would’ve been strange not to haggle over something this expensive.

“Alright, 20 percent off for Aunt Mu,” she said.

Both sides were satisfied—Zhou Li still profited, and Mu Kun felt she’d scored a deal.

By the time Zhou Li finished packaging a few dozen stones, night had fallen.

She placed the basket under the counter, then left to pick up An Fengxuan.

After several days, Zhou Li finally arrived at the interstellar realm again. The tense situation on Planet Mia had eased somewhat.

When Lin Jianshan came to work, Zhou Li learned that Julia Bates had officially announced a short-term migration program—recruiting technicians from across the planet to join Mia’s engineers aboard the orbital station.

The public welcomed it. As long as there were no fees and as long as someone was still trying to keep them alive, they were on board.

Julia had even mentioned that Good Life Supermarket would provide material support for the initiative.

With such generous benefits—guaranteed food and supplies for participants and their families—technicians were eager to sign up.

After Bates Industries joined the supermarket’s alliance, Wolf Pharmaceuticals could no longer resist pressure and approached the mayor, the Richter family, and the Bates family to negotiate peace.

In this new climate of loosened restrictions, Zhou Li successfully acquired a large batch of medicine.

☢️☢️☢️

Ch 112: My Multiverse Supermarket

Newborn Island, in the forest encampment.

After Qi Jiayu steered the conversation firmly back to heavy oil, Su Wujun’s face turned dark as iron. He left the tent without another word.

“These people from Newborn Island are utterly uncivilized,” he growled to his aide.

In his mind, a negotiation should be a slow, deliberate dance—yet Newborn Island’s side had talked only about the trade itself, shutting him out completely.

“They’re all young,” the aide said cautiously. “They don’t know proper etiquette.”

“We’re not the ones lacking etiquette,” came a cool, sharp voice from behind them. “We just don’t care for bureaucratic nonsense—or empty formalities.”

Both men froze and turned around. Somehow, someone had appeared behind them without either of them noticing.

Thick-skinned as he was, Su Wujun quickly recovered. “And you are?”

“Newborn Island’s Head of Security—Fengxuan,” she said evenly.

Su Wujun narrowed his eyes, now paying her more attention.

If she oversaw the island’s security, perhaps she knew the truth behind how those Li family escort ships had been sunk.

“So the island’s military force is under your command, then?” he probed.

Fengxuan smiled faintly. “I only manage public order.”

Su Wujun shot a look at his aide. The man caught the cue and feigned confusion. “But… there don’t seem to be many guards here at all.”

Fengxuan’s tone turned cryptic. “If you can see them, they aren’t security—they’re just guards.”

That line alone made Su Wujun’s eyes narrow further.

He took the hint through his own thick-skinned cunning: Newborn Island’s elite force must be hidden in the shadows.

Realizing he’d get no secrets out of her and unwilling to risk his safety, he quickly left and returned to his fleet.

Back aboard, the ship’s captain handed him the latest intelligence report.

“Sir, new intel—Newborn Island possesses sonic weapons.”

“Sonic weapons?” Su Wujun was stunned. “You’re not joking?”

“Our agent on Lonewind Island confirmed it. The Li family’s elite troops were dissected after death—their injuries match those caused by sonic attacks.”

Su Wujun silently thanked himself for leaving when he did. If the negotiations had gone south and Newborn Island decided to trap them, those same weapons could have been turned on them.

“Should we inform President Su?” the aide asked.

Su Wujun said coldly, “She’s still talking business. What’s the point?”

If Su Qingyi and her party died, that would simply give him a perfect excuse to retaliate.

Inside the negotiation tent, the atmosphere was tense and heated.

Su Qingyi and Qi Jiayu were locked in a fierce exchange, each slicing at the other’s prices like blades.

“One gold coin per ton of heavy oil.”

Qi Jiayu calculated swiftly. “A gold coin weighs fifteen grams. At sixty-eight percent purity, that’s 450 points per gram. That makes 6,750 points per ton—too expensive. I’ll only accept twelve grams per ton.”

“Transportation has costs,” Su Qingyi countered.

Qi Jiayu muttered, glancing toward Xu Jiayi, “Maybe it’s time to start collecting a ten percent tariff.”

Xu Jiayi: …

Why did it feel like Lonewind Island was the one getting punished for their negotiations?

If Newborn Island started taxing trades at ten percent, Lonewind’s 7.8-billion-credit trade volume would owe seventy-eight million in taxes.

Still, since the tariff wouldn’t fall on the Su family, Su Qingyi wasn’t bothered.

Xu Jiayi tried to smooth things over. “Really, this partnership could be mutually beneficial. President Su, why not reconsider?”

Su Qingyi smiled faintly. “As the corpses evolve, oil extraction becomes harder. Heavy oil may not be as valuable as diesel or gasoline, but it’s still rare. High price or not, it’ll sell.”

She wasn’t lying—and that was her leverage.

From the Su family’s perspective, Newborn Island had little to offer. But Newborn Island needed Su’s heavy oil.

That made them the buyers—and buyers couldn’t dictate terms.

Still, Su Qingyi was a businesswoman, not a politician. She believed in profit over pride. If she hadn’t, she would have walked out like Su Wujun had.

Xu Jiayi asked, “Are you saying the Su family lacks nothing?”

Su Qingyi hesitated. Of course they weren’t self-sufficient.

Qi Jiayu said calmly, “Except for weapons, we can get almost anything.”

Su Qingyi pounced. “If that’s true, why buy heavy oil from us at all?”

Qi Jiayu’s eyes glinted. “Because there’s no reason to pay more domestically for what we can get cheaper abroad. And tell me—if the Su family truly produces every material it needs, why are you still scavenging pre-apocalypse alcohol, despite all your brewing crops?”

Su Qingyi fell silent.

She couldn’t deny it. Post-apocalyptic water sources were contaminated. Over half their crops were diseased.

No matter how many raw ingredients they grew, they couldn’t brew decent alcohol without clean water. What little they managed tasted foul.

Yet the elite of Anhai still demanded fine liquor—so the Su family had to scavenge old-world stockpiles.

She forced a light tone. “Then what if I asked for solar photovoltaic equipment? Do you have that too?”

Xu Jiayi answered before Qi Jiayu could. “We do.”

She was confident because she had personally handled the purchase and assembly of solar components for Zhou Li’s earlier orders.

Su Qingyi went quiet again.

Before the apocalypse, the Anxi Archipelago had relied entirely on diesel power thanks to its oil fields.

Five years later, their stored fuel was long gone, new refining was limited, and blackouts were common.

Only then did the Su family realize the value of solar energy—but it was too late. They lacked engineers, parts, and infrastructure.

Newborn Island’s offer was undeniably tempting.

“How much for a full set?” she asked.

“It depends on scale,” Qi Jiayu said. “For a small household system, about fifty thousand points. A large one for a Su family villa—four to five hundred thousand. For factories, over a million.”

Factories were the backbone of the Su family’s power over the archipelago. This was no small deal.

But with this shift, the balance of power between them and Newborn Island might start to turn.

…

Su Qingyi couldn’t make the final decision alone.

As night fell, she and Su Baichun returned to their vessel—not to the fleet’s warship, but to the Su family’s pride: The Su Explorer, a 160-meter superyacht, eight decks high.

It had a pool, sports courts, parking bays, a helipad, and seven speedboats.

Once they had sailed beyond Lonewind’s waters, Su Qingyi contacted her parents to report the negotiations.

When Su Baichun later came knocking with a bottle of wine, she overheard her cousin inside saying, “This deal’s ours to decide. No need to wait for their approval. I just want our factories prioritized for power supply.”

Su Baichun smiled faintly to herself.

As expected—her aunt had sensed opportunity.

The family patriarch had never intended to finalize the heavy oil trade. He’d only wanted to test Newborn Island’s strength.

But seeing the leverage Newborn Island held, her aunt was now pushing to close the deal.

Once the room fell silent, Su Baichun waited a few moments, then knocked lightly as if she’d just arrived.

Su Qingyi wasn’t surprised to see her but raised a brow at the bottle in her hands. “Where’d you get that?”

“From Newborn Island’s supermarket,” Su Baichun said. “A brand I’ve never heard of—but it’s real alcohol.”

Su Qingyi fetched two glasses.

After a sip, she admitted, “Cheap taste, but these days even that counts as good wine.”

“What else did you buy?”

“When we left, your boat was packed full.”

“Wine, drinks, and snacks,” Su Baichun said simply.

The Su factories produced many essentials—but not luxuries like these. Even as a Su heiress, she rarely got to enjoy a soda or snack.

Then she told her aunt how the islanders rushed to the supermarket for supplies, yet the owner never ran out of stock.

But she said nothing about the ambergris.

At last, Su Qingyi looked at her young niece—barely eighteen—with newfound seriousness.

“So, in your view… does Newborn Island hold vast hidden reserves?”

“I don’t know,” Su Baichun replied. “But I’m sure Uncle Wujun already had the island scanned.”

“Unfortunately,” Su Qingyi said, “he told me it’s useless. The island’s equipped with laser radar jamming—it can’t be mapped or penetrated.”

“Which means their tech level is higher than ours. Working with them brings more benefit than risk.”

“I agree,” Su Qingyi said softly.

“I can convince my mother to support the deal,” Su Baichun offered.

Her aunt’s gaze sharpened. “What do you want in return?”

“I want the uninhabited island beside Susan Port’s channel.”

It wasn’t large, but its deed belonged to Su Qingyi—and owning her own island would be the first step in Su Baichun’s larger ambitions.

Two days later, Zhou Li sealed another massive contract worth thirty million yuan.

Su Qingyi had officially ordered four full solar power station systems.

Each would provide 3.2 megawatts of capacity—roughly 3.84 million kilowatt-hours of electricity per year.

At the same time, Zhou Li purchased three thousand tons of heavy oil from Su Oil Group at 5,400 yuan per ton.

Since the heavy oil was for use on the artificial island, the payment couldn’t come from the supermarket’s account—and Zhou Li didn’t have enough personal funds.

So she acted as a middlewoman: buying ambergris at 25,000 yuan per gram (below the 28,000 market price) and reselling it at auction.

After a five percent fee (about 1,400 yuan per gram), she earned roughly 1,600 yuan per gram in profit.

All of it went straight into buying heavy oil—she didn’t keep a single yuan.

But that would be a one-time move. From now on, she wouldn’t spend her own money for Newborn Island’s operations.

The island would soon belong to Qi Jiayu and her team to manage—and when they proposed collecting tariffs from foreign traders, Zhou Li agreed without objection.

[Author’s Note]

Next up: a new world—Magic and Technology [dog-head emoji] (about two chapters away!)

The photovoltaic system prices were sourced online.

☢️☢️☢️

Ch 95: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

Grandma Zhang was awakened by a series of violent knocks on the door.

Older people tended to sleep lightly, yet for some reason she had slept very deeply this time. Perhaps her recent good mood had improved her sleep quality as well. The knocking outside had gone on for quite a while before she slowly woke from her afternoon nap.

There was noise outside, but she couldn’t make out what people were shouting about. After gathering herself, she got up to open the door.

“Who is it, in such a hurry…”

Muttering, Grandma Zhang leaned toward the peephole and looked out, only to be startled to find her daughter Zhao Ya and granddaughter Yaya standing outside.

Zhao Ya was holding Yaya tightly. Blood was splattered across her sun-protection jacket. Her face was pale as she pressed her daughter’s head firmly into her chest, the hand covering the back of Yaya’s head trembling nonstop.

The lingering drowsiness vanished instantly. Grandma Zhang gasped in alarm, instinctively reaching toward the bloodstains on Zhao Ya, then trying to check on Yaya at the same time, her hands fumbling in confusion.

“What happened? Where did this blood come from? Who’s hurt?”

Seeing Grandma Zhang standing there safe and sound, Zhao Ya’s eyes reddened immediately. Hearing the flood of concerned questions, she choked up. “It’s not mine or Yaya’s blood. Don’t worry.”

Then she asked urgently, “Mom, are you okay?”

“I was taking a nap at home. What could’ve happened?” Grandma Zhang said, completely confused.

“That’s good… that’s good…” Zhao Ya murmured absentmindedly. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she turned cautiously to look behind her and hurried Grandma Zhang inside. “Let’s talk inside.”

Outside felt far too unsafe. Even standing there frightened her.

Once the heavy security door shut, Zhao Ya finally relaxed. All her strength drained away, and she collapsed onto the sofa. Yaya was finally released from her mother’s arms and looked helplessly between her mother and grandmother.

Zhao Ya had protected her well, covering Yaya’s eyes the moment danger appeared. The child hadn’t seen the bloody scenes and wasn’t truly afraid, but children were sensitive. Her mother’s unusual state made her uneasy.

Grandma Zhang brought Yaya a packet of biscuits and told her to sit in the room and eat. But Zhao Ya suddenly sprang up from the sofa, ignoring her exhaustion, and pulled Yaya along to check every window in the apartment.

After what she had just experienced outside, she was too frightened to let her daughter leave her sight.

Only then did Zhao Ya notice something unexpected. Protective bars had been installed outside all the windows.

Grandma Zhang lived on the third floor, neither high nor low. In their neighborhood, only residents on the first or second floors usually installed anti-theft bars. Few people above the third floor bothered. Yet seeing the bars on her mother’s windows, Zhao Ya vaguely recalled that many higher-floor apartments in the complex now seemed to have them too.

Even the old wooden front door had been replaced with a brand-new security door.

The new key hadn’t yet been given to Zhao Ya, which was why she had been stuck knocking outside for so long.

It had only been a few days since her last visit. How had the house changed so much?

And… the timing was almost too perfect.

Zhao Ya felt puzzled. Her mother was elderly and usually found tasks inconvenient. Whenever something needed replacing at home, she would call Zhao Ya to arrange it. Yet this time, all the doors and windows had been upgraded without her knowing anything about it.

Still, the unexpected security bars and door brought her immense comfort. She finally relaxed completely, quietly telling Yaya to stay in the room eating biscuits before returning to the living room. With trembling hands, she quickly removed the bloodstained jacket, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash bin.

That still didn’t feel like enough. She tied the garbage bag tightly and moved it to an unseen corner of the balcony.

Grandma Zhang watched, confused. “What exactly happened?”

When Zhao Ya spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Something’s happened outside. A lot of people are attacking strangers in the streets. Many people have died. The ones doing the killing… they didn’t seem normal.”

She had seen with her own eyes someone pounce on another person and bite him.

And before long, the bitten person became the same as them.

…No, not them. Them.

Remembering the scene made nausea surge in her stomach.

She forced herself not to vomit. Looking at her mother’s thin figure, then thinking of her daughter in the room, she steadied herself.

With elders above and a child below, she had to be strong.

Grandma Zhang was not unfamiliar with death. Though startled, she quickly calmed down. “Are there many people hurting others?”

“Many. On the way here I saw at least seven or eight,” Zhao Ya said. While fleeing with Yaya, she had constantly watched her surroundings, distancing herself immediately whenever someone began acting strangely. That vigilance was the only reason she had managed to run so far while carrying a child.

They had come today on a sudden whim to visit Grandma Zhang.

After her last phone call with her mother and brother, Zhao Ya had slept poorly for several nights, filled with regret.

Her mother had called to share details about her recent life, yet she and her brother had only poured cold water over her enthusiasm. She knew how to encourage and support her own daughter, yet somehow lost patience with the mother who had raised her.

Remembering how happy her mother sounded when the call connected made Zhao Ya’s chest ache.

She had indeed been busy with work and caring for her child, her temper growing short. Once work finally eased this week, she immediately brought Yaya to visit Grandma as soon as she had free time.

Grandma Zhang, living alone for so long, was happiest whenever her daughter and granddaughter visited.

Zhao Ya had wanted to surprise her and hadn’t called ahead. None of them expected anything like this to happen on the way.

They had originally stopped near a supermarket close to home to buy some things before coming over. Translated on Hololo novels. But chaos erupted before they could even enter. Zhao Ya didn’t dare return to the underground parking garage to retrieve the car. She picked up Yaya and ran the rest of the way.

After taking a drink of water, she continued, “Things outside are completely chaotic. I don’t think it’ll calm down anytime soon. Let’s stay home for a while. Don’t go out for the next couple of days.”

Afraid her mother’s heart couldn’t handle the shock, she avoided describing the outside situation in detail.

In Zhao Ya’s view, with security bars and reinforced doors, the three of them would be safe staying inside and simply waiting for the military to restore order.

Grandma Zhang thought for a moment, her expression growing heavier. “I’m afraid this isn’t just happening around us. Do you know if there are places elsewhere where people like this have appeared?”

What if it wasn’t only here…

Grandma Zhang’s reminder made Zhao Ya’s heart sink. She quickly pulled out her phone, scrolling through dozens of messages in succession before lowering it again, despair filling her face.

“It’s chaos all over the country… even overseas.”

With an outbreak on this scale, rescue personnel would inevitably be insufficient. Waiting for help to arrive quickly was probably impossible now.

And judging by how fast it spread, one bite was enough to turn another person. Zhao Ya had seen seven or eight earlier. By now, that number might already have become dozens.

After one day, two days… how many would there be?

Even if police or the military came to rescue people, they would first have to carve a path through blood. Just imagining it filled Zhao Ya with dread. The mutated were ordinary civilians. It felt even crueler than war.

“We can’t just wait for rescue. We have to figure out how to save ourselves,” Zhao Ya said, forcing herself to stay composed. “We should prepare to last at least a week at home… no, two weeks.”

She still held onto hope and also feared her mother couldn’t bear too much pressure, so she didn’t mention a longer timeframe.

Grandma Zhang shook her head. “If it’s really that serious, one or two weeks probably won’t solve anything.”

“Come with me.”

Her face showed no panic as she gestured for Zhao Ya to follow her into the kitchen.

The moment Zhao Ya stepped inside, her eyes lit up.

The kitchen was piled high with unopened bags of rice, flour, cooking oil, and grains. Several boxes of canned eight-treasure porridge, luncheon meat, and fruit sat nearby. Opening the cupboards revealed every kind of seasoning imaginable, along with generous amounts of millet, red beans, mung beans, soybeans, and oatmeal for cooking porridge. It was obvious everything had been recently restocked.

There was even a bag of puffed rice snacks and a bag of peanuts on the dining table, probably bought when someone downstairs had come by pushing a cart to sell goods.

Zhao Ya and Zhao Liang usually disliked these traditional snacks and only Grandma Zhang ate them. But now Zhao Ya felt nothing but gratitude. They were cheap, filling, nutritious, and peanuts in particular could be stored dry and sealed for over a month.

Grandma Zhang wasn’t finished surprising her. “There are also snacks I bought for Yaya, chocolate, biscuits, jelly cups, potato chips.”

Those items stored well, and she had bought many at once so she wouldn’t have to trouble Song Rushuang repeatedly.

“And the unopened rice and flour,” Grandma Zhang added, pointing at the supplies on the floor. “I planned for you to take them home next time you visited. You said you’re always busy with work and don’t have time to shop, and Yaya ends up eating takeout with you. So I thought I’d buy them for you. Wouldn’t it be convenient to just take them back? You drove here anyway, so moving them wouldn’t be hard. And the shopping apps really were cheap. If you bought enough, there were discounts.”

Under normal circumstances, Zhao Ya would probably have complained.

These things were heavy. Carrying them back herself would be inconvenient when delivery existed. Even with discounts, how much money could she really save? Why haul so much across cities?

And buying so much at once clearly meant her mother, new to online shopping, had gone on a spending spree like those old TV shopping channels.

But now Zhao Ya felt tears welling up.

Yaya ate very little, and Grandma Zhang didn’t eat much either. The three of them together probably consumed only what two adults would. These supplies could sustain them for a very, very long time.

As she counted everything, she realized there was even more hidden deep inside the cupboards, all brand new packages. Her mother must have realized she had bought too much and hidden some in advance out of embarrassment.

Now that everything had been uncovered, Grandma Zhang turned her head awkwardly. “Let’s go store some water first. You said those people infect others by biting. It’s probably some kind of contagious disease. Who knows if the water supply might get contaminated later. Better to prepare.”

“The soybeans and mung beans can be soaked and sprouted. If we stay home long enough without fresh vegetables, we can eat those. If we don’t have enough containers, there are plastic bottles I’ve saved on the balcony. Just cut them open and they’ll work.”

Zhao Ya remembered the pile of “junk” her mother kept on the balcony.

She didn’t rummage through trash outside, but every plastic bottle, bucket, cardboard box, and scrap paper used at home was washed clean and saved until there was enough to sell.

If gas stopped working, paper could be burned for fire, and plastic bottles could serve as containers. When leaving the house wasn’t possible, none of it was trash. Everything could be repurposed.

Zhao Ya had never felt so grateful for her mother’s habits of stockpiling and saving recyclables.

Of course, she still hoped those “just in case” scenarios were only her imagination.

After walking through the apartment, Zhao Ya finally felt her heart settle. Then she thought about her own home in another city and realized they had almost nothing stored.

She and Yaya went to the supermarket once every week or two, buying only fresh produce and food for the coming days. Even rice was bought in small bags because they couldn’t finish it. Aside from seasonings and toilet paper, they had no habit of stockpiling.

That lifestyle wasn’t wrong, but in an emergency, if they were trapped at home, they might not even last a week.

And what would happen then was something Zhao Ya didn’t dare imagine.

After hesitating for a long time, she finally apologized honestly. “Mom, I’m sorry. I was too busy last time we talked on the phone and in a bad mood. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please don’t be angry with me.”

She was no longer a child. Her own daughter was already grown enough to understand things. She had prepared herself mentally before coming but hadn’t known how to begin.

Yet once the words were spoken, she realized apologizing wasn’t so difficult after all.

Grandma Zhang rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’d really stay mad at you?”

Even as she said it, a smile crept onto her face.

Zhao Ya smiled too, but thinking of the chaos outside quickly wiped it away. “Still, you really had incredible foresight. Stocking all this at just the right time, and the security door…”

“That wasn’t my foresight. You should thank Xiaoshuang,” Grandma Zhang said, shaking her head. “Didn’t I tell you before? She helped me install the shopping apps. She said living alone made grocery trips inconvenient, so she taught me how to use them.”

“I learn slowly, so while she was home during summer break, she helped me buy a lot of things first. Saved me so much trouble.”

Grandma Zhang truly liked Song Rushuang. Translated on Hololo novels. Once she started talking about her, she couldn’t stop.

“The security bars and door were her idea too. She suggested everyone install them together. Oh right, I didn’t tell you. Not long ago a child in our complex nearly fell from a building…”

Grandma Zhang recounted Song Rushuang’s heroic deeds in detail, including organizing a safety lecture with local police and arranging installation of security doors and window bars.

Zhao Ya listened in stunned disbelief. “…Xiaoshuang just started college, right?”

She remembered Song Rushuang’s excellent exam scores. Smart, athletic, brave enough to climb buildings to save someone, kind to elderly neighbors, courageous and compassionate… How had her parents raised such an outstanding child?

Come to think of it, what had Zhao Ya herself been doing at eighteen or nineteen?

The thought made her face burn. Compared not only to her younger self but even to her current self, Song Rushuang seemed more accomplished.

While Zhao Ya was away, Song Rushhuang had quietly done so much for her mother.

And every single one of those actions was helping their family now.

Whether coincidence or not, if they ended up trapped for a long time, Song Rushhuang’s actions would truly count as life-saving kindness.

And she hadn’t helped only their family.

Zhao Ya silently resolved that once everything was over, she would personally visit to thank her.

Then her expression suddenly changed. “Wait. I just saw messages saying things overseas are chaotic too?”

Her younger brother Zhao Liang lived in Country A.

Grandma Zhang panicked. “Quick, call him and ask what’s happening.”

Zhao Ya didn’t need reminding. She had already initiated a video call. But it rang for a long time with no answer.

The two exchanged a glance, their faces turning pale.

₊˚.🎧📓✩