Chapter 515: The Apocalypse Has Arrived

Thus, the apocalypse arrived.

At first, it was merely a volcanic eruption no one cared about, but when people finally snapped out of it, the entire world was already overrun by various natural disasters.

Drought, floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunamis, meteorites, acid rain, hail...

Disasters that once occurred only once every hundred or even a thousand years now seemed determined to hold a grand gathering, taking turns to strike within a single year and ravaging the entire world.

During this process, heaven and earth wailed, all living beings perished in agony, hell became reality—and the post-apocalyptic era began.

A year ago, the total population of the Magic Republic was nearly fifty billion; now, the remaining population that could be counted was less than five billion.

Pan Duola City, the capital of the Magic Republic, remained thriving even in this post-apocalyptic age, and within this short year, the already enormous city expanded dozens of times its original size.

Outside the original old district, countless satellite cities sprang up, connected to it—but being hastily built, they inevitably suffered from numerous flaws, the most obvious being how densely packed the buildings were.

Rows of towering residential towers stood in perfect uniformity, as if someone had copied a single template endlessly on a computer and then shoved the copies straight into these satellite cities.

Urban planning, green living, all the things an old-world city should have—none of it existed here. Everything served only one purpose: basic survival.

If viewed from above, these so-called residential towers looked less like homes and more like "pigeon coops," or perhaps lifeless tombstones.

"No matter how many times I see this view, it's still lifeless."

Hela stood on the balcony, gazing up at the dark, ash-choked sky where sunlight rarely reached, and couldn't help but complain.

"Of course it is—it's the end of the world, after all."

Agatha, her younger sister busy inside, heard her sister's sigh and replied with a touch of sorrow.

But soon, the girl regained her composure and smiled, trying to cheer up her perpetually gloomy and Tuifei sister.

"At least we still get to see the sun sometimes and feel the breeze, right? That's far better than those stuck in underground shelters—they're truly cut off from the sky."

"That's true."

After hearing her sister's comfort, Hela nodded slightly, agreeing.

Not all cities were sturdy enough to withstand the endless disasters; in fact, the thousands of cities that once made up the Magic Republic had now dwindled to just ten.

These ten cities were originally the most prosperous super-tier metropolises of the Magic Republic, with highly developed infrastructure and comprehensive defense systems—so even the apocalypse struggled to destroy these self-sustaining elite cities.

After the apocalypse, countless refugees from destroyed towns flocked toward these ten giant cities.

To accommodate them, countless satellite cities sprang up around the giants.

But even though these satellite cities had stripped away every non-essential facility and crammed every inch of space with housing, it was still not enough—trying to fit five billion people into just ten cities was simply too difficult.

So, reluctantly, the giant cities began digging downward, constructing countless underground shelters, barely giving everyone a place to sleep.

Although these tiny, pigeon-cage-like residential towers—looking more like tombstones—were constantly mocked, happiness always comes from comparison; thinking of those truly "buried" underground dwellers, the "mole people" and "caged pigeons," they suddenly felt a strange sense of superiority.

The only problem is...

"It's cold."

A biting wind blew past, making Hela shiver; she tightened her coat and walked back inside.

"This damn wind isn't worth it anyway—it's not even good."

A gentle breeze would've been fine, but in this ash-choked, globally frigid hell, wind was no blessing.

Even the hurricane-force winds outside, weakened by the city's windbreak walls, still carried a bone-deep chill that was unbearable.

Thinking of it, maybe the underground "moles" had it better after all.

"Alright, sister, it's time to eat."

At that moment, Agatha finished preparing breakfast and called out to her sister.

"Hmm, what's for today? Of course—it's Huhu again."

Hela, still rubbing her hands and blowing warm air into them from the cold wind, walked toward the table. Mealtime should've been a happy moment—but when she saw the two bowls of bland, white Huhu, her face fell.

"It's liquid nutrient meal. Well, technically, it's still Huhu."

Agatha corrected her sister, but even she glanced at the two bowls of unappetizing Huhu and couldn't hide her distaste.

But what could they do? It was the apocalypse—food was scarce. Just ensuring everyone had something to eat was already a miracle; eating well? Forget it.

"Thank you, Prime Minister, for sparing us from hunger."

Agatha clenched her fist, tapped her chest three times, and offered a prayer.

"You're so devout—do you really not find this annoying every single meal?"

Hela watched her sister's ritual, blinked her eyes heavy with dark circles, yawned, and remarked.

She had to admit, though—though everyone ate only two bowls of Huhu a day, at least they weren't starving, and that was thanks entirely to the Prime Minister who took office a year ago.

This new Prime Minister rose to power at the very start of the apocalypse; her investiture ceremony was the Magic Republic's last celebration.

But the Prime Minister truly was capable.

Upon taking office, she established the ten giant cities as the core, demanding all resources be concentrated toward them; she enacted the Food Priority Strategy, ordering each giant city to massively construct underground ecological farms to guarantee food security, and...

In short, her initial barrage of bizarre strategies caused uproar across the Magic Republic; many thought she was a clueless fool and demanded her resignation.

But now, looking back after the apocalypse had truly arrived, people realized not a single one of her decrees had been unnecessary—these very policies, once cursed by everyone, now kept them alive.

Moreover, in this post-apocalyptic age, people lacked security and needed something to believe in—to place their hope—and the Prime Minister, who had saved their lives, was a perfect choice.

"The Prime Minister isn't just the Prime Minister—she's also the Grand Pontiff of our Mechanical Faith. Trusting her is the right choice."

In response to her sister's sarcasm, Agatha explained this way; when she spoke of the Prime Minister, her eyes sparkled.

"Heh..."

Hela merely smiled silently, lowered her head, and began drinking her bowl of Huhu.

Well, though it looked unappetizing, it wasn't actually bad—unless you drank it every day, then it got tiresome; otherwise, it was almost delicious.

And as its official name, "Liquid Nutrient Meal," suggested, it was nutritionally balanced; one bowl could keep a light-eater full for an entire day.

"By the way, Agatha, how's your work lately? Not too exhausting?"

Hela suddenly remembered something and asked.

In this post-apocalyptic age, there was no room for idlers—everyone had to work. Even though her sister had just turned adult, she'd already been assigned labor; as an older sister, Hela felt it was her duty to check on her.

"It's fine—I just grow vegetables in the farm. Nothing compared to your brick-hauling at the construction site."

The girl shook her head, assuring her sister she was fine, and instead worried about Hela's hardship.

"I'm okay too—I actually like my current job."

Hearing her sister's concern, Hela smiled, ruffled Agatha's hair, and comforted her.

Thus, in this tender sisterly bond, the two drank their Huhu, tidied up briefly, and prepared to leave for work.

But...

"Phew, acting is damn tiring—thank goodness my Pianyi sister didn't notice my slip."

Once outside, the previously frail Agatha exhaled in relief, glanced nervously around, saw no one watching, and slipped into a nearby alley.

Then, a neatly dressed green-uniformed magic girl rode a jet-propelled flying broom, swiftly heading toward the center of Pan Duola City.

As she neared the district, several other green-uniformed magic girls spotted her and respectfully greeted her.

"Good morning, Senior Agatha."

"Good morning, Society Leader."

"Good morning, Department Head."

Yes, though she appeared to be merely a teenage girl, Agatha held another identity—she was a witch, and a top-tier student even among the Witch Academy's elite.

Vice-President of the Fertile Wine Society—one of the academy's top ten clubs—and known as the "Witch of the Woods," a master of potioncraft—that was her.

Of course, her academy duties aside, she was also Deputy Minister of the Magic Republic's Nongye Force, overseeing the construction and cultivation of all underground farms.

Yes, in a way, she hadn't lied to her sister—she really was just a farmer.

"Agatha, don't you get tired commuting this far every day? Why not just tell your sister the truth and move into the city? It'd be easier."

As Agatha arrived at the Nongye Force, a voluptuous, graceful green-haired beauty approached her and spoke.

She was the president of Fertile Wine, Agatha's direct superior, and the current Minister of Agriculture of the Magic Republic: Daphne.

"No need, President. Who am I to disrupt the life of the body I've possessed? I must play this role well—and besides, my sister is a good person."

In response to her friend's suggestion, Agatha shook her head, declining.

If possible, she preferred not to disrupt the original interpersonal bonds of her possessed host—and as someone who had always been an only child, having a sister now felt strangely novel.

Most importantly...

Her sister was really beautiful.

"Alright, back to work. We'll talk later—I'm going to tweak the flavor of the Liquid Nutrient Meal today. Need more varieties to switch up, or I'll go insane from eating it daily."

Agatha said this, then turned to head to work.

But Daphne stopped her.

"Wait—come with me to the palace. Today's the regular meeting day. Didn't you submit a new breeding plan a few days ago? I'm no expert in cultivation—you should present it directly to the Prime Minister."

"Ah? To the palace? That means..."

The thought of facing her idol so soon made Agatha's spirits soar, and she burst into delighted excitement.

As a Mechanical Adept, she revered the Grand Pontiff; as Minister of Agriculture, she revered the Prime Minister; as a Witch student, she revered the Young Lady.

But since the Grand Pontiff, the Prime Minister, and the Young Lady were all one and the same, her threefold admiration merged into one—now, this was how Agatha felt.

Yay... today is truly a wonderful day.

Meanwhile, on the other side...

"Phew, having a sister isn't so bad—at least I don't have to worry about daily life after leaving the lab."

Seeing her sister leave, Hela exhaled in relief, waited a few minutes, then opened her door.

But behind her door wasn't a normal hallway—it was a gloomy, silent underground space.

If you listened closely, you could clearly hear the wailing of countless souls.

Most people would be terrified by such a supernatural occurrence, but Hela was used to it; she strode out of her room, and a judge wearing a skull mask and a pitch-black uniform stepped into that realm of the dead.

Zang Xing lifted her head and glanced back, but saw no trace of the room she had come from—only an ancient, imposing gate arch stood behind her, bearing three large characters.

Ghost Gate Pass.

"Tsk. What a childish whim of the Clown Lord."

Zang Xing shook her head and strode forward; as one of the chief architects of the New Underworld Project, her work was relentless, and if she didn't hurry, she'd be working late again tonight—her sister would scold her for coming home too late.

She was occupying her sister's body; she had to be a good sister.

Well, she hadn't lied to her sister—she really was a laborer on a construction site, just that the bricks she carried were soul-bricks, and the building she was raising was called the Underworld.

But she had barely taken a few steps when a black-robed Mozhuangqishi approached her from the opposite direction.

"Emergency notice, Zang Xing—come with me to the palace for a meeting."

"Alright, Director Qiong."

Zang Xing reluctantly stopped and bowed respectfully to the imposing, mature woman before her, who looked barely thirty.

Yes, though she was a witch, and this mature female supervisor was merely an NPC from the Witch Night storyline, that didn't lessen Zang Xing's deference—after all...

Tsk. This was the Founding Master.

... The Judge's emotions were complicated.