Chapter 1: The Death of a Corporate Drone and the Apocalyptic Start

Lin Mo's final consciousness lingered on the harsh blue light of his computer screen and the tearing, twisting pain in his heart. After 72 straight hours of an all-nighter pushing design drawings, he finally got what he wanted… he dropped dead. Darkness swallowed everything—no life flashing before his eyes, no tunnel to heaven or hell, only a cold, dead void.

He didn't know how long it had been when an indescribable stench violently dragged him out of the void. It wasn't the smell of disinfectant, nor the formaldehyde of a morgue, but the choking stench of rust mixed with rotting flesh, dust, and some acrid chemical. His eyes snapped open, and violent coughing curled him up; every breath felt like swallowing sandpaper.

His vision blurred for a long while before finally focusing. What came into view was a scene so desolate it was despairing. A lead-gray sky hung low, with no sun—only a murky, sickly faintly glowing layer of clouds. The earth was cracked, not a blade of grass grew, and twisted metal wreckage, like the bones of some giant beast, lay scattered across the scorched-black land, stretching off into the gray fog as far as the eye could see. A gust of dry, hot wind carrying sand and grit swept past, kicking up some unknown white powder from the ground that stung painfully against his face.

"Where… is this?" Lin Mo's voice was hoarse and dry. He struggled to sit up, only to find his whole body sore and weak, as if it had been taken apart and reassembled. He looked down at himself—he was still wearing the wrinkled plaid shirt and jeans he'd had on when he dropped dead, just covered in dust and grime. The screen of the cheap digital watch on his wrist was shattered, its hands frozen at the last moment in his memory.

Panic seized him in an instant. This wasn't a dream! This was definitely not Earth! At least, not the Earth he knew!

Just then, a cold, emotionless electronic synthesized voice rang out directly inside his mind:

**【Detecting compatible soul fluctuation… Binding initiated…】**

**【Myriad Worlds Sandbox System initializing… 1%… 10%… 50%… 100%】**

**【Binding successful! Host: Lin Mo. Welcome to the beginning of your Lord path.】**

**【Beginner's Gift Pack has been delivered to the System Space. Please check.】**

Lin Mo was so startled by the sudden voice that he nearly jumped. "Who?! What is that?!" He looked around, but only the dead silence of the wind answered.

He forced himself to calm down and tried to focus his mind. Sure enough, a clean, semi-transparent interface floated up before his eyes, like a game menu:

**Host: Lin Mo

Status: Mild radiation contamination (+), Dehydration (++), Hunger (+++)

Territory: 【Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland World Fragment - No. 0137】

Territory Status: On the Verge of Collapse (Pollution Level 85%)

Resources: None

Buildings: None

Population: 1 (Yourself)

System Functions:

1. Territory Overview

2. System Space (1 cubic meter)

3. Basic Blueprint Library (Unlocked)**

Lin Mo's heart began to pound wildly. System? Lord? Wasteland world fragment? The amount of information was enormous, but his survival instinct overpowered his shock. He immediately used his mind to open 【System Space】, where a few lonely items lay:

*A bag of about 5 kilograms of tubers with shriveled, blackened skin (Label: 【Radiation-Resistant Potato Seeds (Inferior)】 x1)

*A rusty machete with a dulled blade (Label: 【Rusty Machete】 x1)

*A few yellowed sheets of paper (Label: 【Basic Survival Manual (Simple)】 x1)

*A crude device made of a few plastic pipes, rags, and activated charcoal (Label: 【Basic Water Purifier Blueprint (Single-Use)】 x1)

*A small bottle of murky liquid (Label: 【Basic Soil Conditioner】 x1)

Looking at these pitifully shabby items, Lin Mo was on the verge of tears. This is the beginner's gift pack? Start with a knife and a bag of potatoes, gear all picked up from the ground?

With trembling hands, he picked up the machete; the cold touch and heavy weight gave him a tiny, negligible sense of security. He flipped open that "Basic Survival Manual," inside which rough line drawings showed how to find direction in the wasteland, locate water sources, avoid dangerous radiation zones, set up simple traps, and so on—the text was terse to the point of being cold.

"Water… I have to find water…" The burning sensation in his throat reminded him of his most urgent need. The manual mentioned that water sources in the wasteland were extremely dangerous; untreated rainwater and surface water could contain lethal radiation and toxins.

He struggled to his feet, his legs weak and wobbly. He looked around, trying to find a possible shelter or resource point. Not far away, a massive overturned subway car lay half-buried in the sand, covered in rust, its windows shattered, looking like a giant coffin. It seemed to be the only nearby place that could offer a bit of cover.

Lin Mo took a deep breath, gripped the machete tight, and staggered toward the subway car, one step deep, one step shallow. Every step kicked up dust, and the loose sand underfoot made every step a struggle. The murky light in the sky seemed to dim a little more, and the wind carried a biting chill.

Just when he was still a dozen or so meters from the car, a low growl—different from the wind and enough to raise every hair on his body—accompanied by a rustling, scraping sound, came from the shadows on the other side of the car. The sound was full of hunger and savagery.

Lin Mo's blood froze instantly. He stopped dead in his tracks, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat. He gripped the machete so hard his knuckles went white, his eyes locked on the direction of the sound, his body trembling slightly from fear and weakness.

In the shadows, two points of ghostly green light, like will-o'-the-wisps, slowly lit up in the gloom, locking onto his position.

**【Warning! High-threat lifeform detected approaching! Mutant Radiation Wolf (Juvenile)! Host advised to evade immediately!】**

The system's alarm blared sharply in his mind.

Run? Where to? His legs were soft as noodles! Fight? With this rusty blade and his sub-healthy body?

The ghostly green points of light began to move. A low, gaunt yet unusually agile figure, baring ghastly white fangs, reeking of a thick, foul stench, slowly paced out of the shadows, a threatening growl rumbling in its throat, greedily eyeing this "fresh" piece of meat before it.

Lin Mo's post-apocalyptic survival, less than half an hour in, faced its first life-or-death crisis. He leaned back against a cold piece of metal wreckage, with nowhere to retreat, his only weapon that rusted machete that looked like it might snap at any moment. Cold sweat soaked through his tattered shirt.