Chapter 65: Preparations Before the Second Impact

Bang!

A massive black bear collapsed to the ground, its head severed and gone, blood spurting skyward like a high-pressure hose.

Its body was covered in bony spines, and even beneath the black fur, its bulging muscles were clearly visible.

Standing upright, it reached three meters tall and weighed a ton, its footsteps shaking the earth with a thudding rhythm.

Yet, despite its strength, this black bear was no match for Fang Shi in a single blow.

One slash of his sword, and its head was gone.

Fang Shi glanced at his data panel and frowned in disappointment.

“Target deceased.”

“Extracting target’s soul energy. You gain 210 experience points.”

Aside from experience, not a single survival point was awarded—plainly a losing deal.

The system offered no loopholes to exploit, and you couldn’t endlessly farm monsters or linger indefinitely in the training ground.

More importantly, the Trial Tower was not a sanctuary.

By the time the second impact arrived, no matter what you were doing inside the tower,

you would be forcibly ejected—meaning even if Fang Shi had over 2,100 survival points, he could not stay in the Tianjian Sect for the full 21 days.

He could stay at most 19 days before being forced out.

Of course, this assumes the Tianjian Sect’s world has no time acceleration effect.

“I need to hurry—I finally managed to get that talkative Senior Ling away.”

“Otherwise, if I had to fight those magic-wielding beasts, it wouldn’t be so easy.”

Bang!

Soft earth sank under his boots as Fang Shi shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, heading toward his next target.

…

Ancheng, a riverside apartment.

Zhao Wenjun, his arm wrapped in bandages, stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the flames in the night sky.

“Professor Wang, how are all the arrangements going?”

Behind him, a middle-aged man with a gentle appearance sat in a chair and replied: “Commander Zhao, everything is prepared.”

“Survivor registration, supply procurement, housing, water, sanitation—all civilian needs have been fully planned.”

“Once we retake the DC district and relocate the populace, we’ll be ready to handle the second impact.”

Seeing Professor Wang’s confident expression, Zhao Wenjun’s weary face broke into a smile.

With Fang Shi’s intelligence, combined with the Trial Tower’s information relay,

humanity was no longer unprepared for the second impact.

Extensive preparations had been made in advance to meet the coming challenge.

“Thank you, Professor Wang, for working tirelessly on this—three days and nights without sleep.”

Professor Wang smiled: “Three days without sleep? That’s nothing.”

“Back when I was conducting experiments, I lived and ate in the lab, sleeping less than ten hours in seven days.”

“Now my physique is even better—I can pull an all-nighter easily.”

“But Commander Zhao, don’t risk your life so recklessly during hunts.”

Zhao Wenjun turned, shrugging indifferently: “Aren’t there priests? Their divine arts are miraculous—they restore you instantly.”

Professor Wang frowned: “Divine arts aren’t omnipotent. Our mage department has studied them—medium healing works by accelerating cell division and enhancing the body’s self-repair.”

“Your near-death injury—shattered bones, displaced muscles and organs—was barely kept alive by medium healing alone.”

“Only after several doctors cleaned and sutured your wounds, then applied medium healing again, was full recovery achieved.”

Zhao Wenjun praised: “No wonder you’re Ancheng’s top mage—you understand this so clearly. Under your leadership, our Ancheng Magic Research Institute is renowned.”

Professor Wang’s face lit up with quiet pride—mages were a high-intelligence class.

Though players could freely switch classes, those born with low intelligence simply couldn’t handle it.

Not only did they have few spell slots, but learning new spells was excruciatingly difficult.

They were essentially useless mages.

And such mages were far too common in the apocalypse.

Most people lacked self-awareness—seeing “mage,” they clicked the class switch.

With their pitiful abilities, they couldn’t even assist properly or kill monsters effectively.

Similar classes included priests, warlocks, and druids.

All demanded extreme personal attributes.

These directly affected the most crucial factor: spellcasting ability.

Melee classes had attribute requirements too, but in the end, you just needed to pick up a blade and swing.

Melee skills improved simply by killing more monsters.

But magic? It was like math—if you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t do it.

Without sufficient attributes, you’d never learn it in a lifetime.

Zhao Wenjun added: “By the way, why don’t you keep using divine arts to fully heal my arm? Now I can’t level up.”

Professor Wang shook his head: “Divine arts come at a cost—at least the low-tier ones we’ve encountered so far.”

“Medium healing enhances cell division, but it also consumes lifespan.”

“Your injuries were so severe that, to save your life,”

“the priests on-site were given direct orders to over-treat.”

“This greatly damaged your cellular telomeres, exceeding a critical threshold.”

“Further divine healing would cause severe telomere degradation.”

“You must rest for a while—allow your telomeres to recover somewhat—before any more divine healing can be applied.”

“The medical department already has documented cases: some veterans, relying on divine arts’ efficacy,”

“fought without restraint, prioritizing efficiency over their own damage.”

“Result? One night of white hair, accelerated aging of muscles and organs.”

“Therefore, we’ve forbidden the medical priests from continuing treatment on you.”

Zhao Wenjun fell silent for a moment: “Uncle Wang, do you still think lifespan matters now?”

“If we don’t level up quickly, how will we survive the coming crises?”

Professor Wang fell silent too—they were both high-ranking members of the human settlement.

Naturally, they knew the second impact wasn’t the end.

There would be a third, a fourth—each stronger than the last.

According to their estimates, eventually, legions of legendary creatures would appear.

Precisely because they understood this, their pressure was immense.

As one of the highest-ranking military officers, didn’t Zhao Wenjun know about soldiers turning white-haired?

He knew—but what could he do? If they couldn’t survive now, dying of old age in the future was a joke.

Even Professor Wang, who burned through all his spell slots daily, still took up a blade to fight on the front lines, honing his melee skills.

At night, he returned to the institute to conduct magic research.

He was constantly on the move, and Zhao Wenjun, watching him, felt deep concern—so he found an excuse to summon him for a status report.

Though they’d chatted at length, for Professor Wang, this was a rare moment of rest.

Professor Wang’s expression hardened: “We must give our all—only then can we face the future without regret.”

“Didn’t we already deduce this at the Shicheng Conference?”

“If humanity can improve with each successive impact, these repeated shocks become the source of our evolution.”

“We will become the strongest—until no one dares to challenge us.”

Hearing this, Zhao Wenjun laughed heartily: “Then let’s work together, Uncle Wang.”