Chapter 69

Light!

Infinite light illuminated Blue Star.

From space, Blue Star looked like a pure white sphere of light.

“Crack!”

As if something had shattered, Blue Star began expanding rapidly.

In an instant, it grew to the size of Saturn.

Violent geological activity erupted; oceans churned like thick broth, continents rose and fell like waves.

Hundred-meter tsunamis and magnitude-10 earthquakes were child’s play compared to these changes.

Kilometer-high tsunamis swept everything across the seas.

Mountains several kilometers tall collapsed like stacked blocks.

Had it not been for the protection of cosmic laws, the mere environmental changes alone would have exterminated humanity.

“Here it comes.”

Zhao Wenjun said grimly.

The conference room they were in stood a hundred meters tall.

It allowed them to easily overlook the city’s transformations.

First came the initial land expansion; the city, already fragmented, was now torn to shreds.

The distance between buildings had reached a hundred meters.

With the sudden growth of vegetation and forests, the entire city had sunk into a jungle.

Shorter buildings had vanished entirely.

Only a few skyscrapers remained, standing alone like watchtowers amid the primeval forest.

Second, the light in the sky—Zhao Wenjun and the others had assumed it was merely background noise.

A harmless spectacle.

But the light within the light emitted more light.

Countless small orbs fell from the sky, dense as rain.

Professor Wang activated Hawk Vision and gasped: “Each orb contains monsters wielding curved blades, and some giant fire-winged birds!”

“Where are the spatial portals? Find them quickly!” someone shouted.

Professor Wang shook his head: “No spatial portals—at least none within my line of sight.”

“How is this possible? Didn’t Fang Shi say there would be spatial portals?”

In the Trial Tower, Fang Shi’s score led by a wide margin—he was unquestionably humanity’s strongest.

Combined with Jiang Xian’s account of the god-human dialogue, Fang Shi’s authority was immense.

People naturally trusted him.

Everyone prepared for the Second Impact based on the information he left behind.

And indeed, the Second Impact had arrived.

But strangely, Fang Shi’s information seemed flawed.

The monsters no longer emerged from spatial portals—they descended from the sky within glowing orbs.

“Doesn’t matter. Now they’re perfect targets—easier to shoot.”

“True. Spatial portals appear randomly; we couldn’t predict them. But these orbs follow clear, constant trajectories—if we still miss, it’s absurd.”

Indeed, the spatial passage appears randomly; we cannot easily predict it. This orb’s trajectory is so clear and its speed constant—if we still miss it, it would be unreasonable.

Before, bringing weapons to a meeting would have been taboo—but now it was routine.

“Sigh, I never expected the Second Impact to be this simple. With buildings as absolute fortresses, guerrilla warfare is effortless.”

“All we need to do is hide inside, fire arrows from the shadows—what can these monsters do to us?”

Everyone laughed and chatted, their tone relaxed.

The tension from the Second Impact vanished in an instant.

Recall that before Fang Shi’s rebirth, things weren’t like this—no one knew the apocalypse would grow even more brutal.

Or perhaps some suspected it, but didn’t know the exact timing of the changes.

Thus, humanity’s preparations were inadequate.

First, human settlements were too scattered; combat power was fragmented.

The reason? Later, humans discovered that while gathering ensured safety, it reduced the frequency of monster attacks.

This lowered experience gain efficiency, and many grew unwilling.

For the capable, the apocalypse felt like a monster-hunting leveling game.

Dangerous, yes—but the rewards were real.

Hence, many advocated for independent action.

Second, concentrated living was essentially a communal dormitory.

Combined with the lack of electricity and running water, sanitation became a massive problem.

Though magic could solve it, everyone was busy using magic to level up.

Without a valid reason, who would bother fixing these issues?

There were so many empty houses in the apocalypse—just pick one and live in it.

In short, countless reasons led people to avoid concentrated living.

Or rather, the level of concentration was nowhere near what it was now.

This worked for the First Impact—but collapsed under the Second.

After the Second Impact arrived, building distances widened further.

Each building became an island in a green forest.

Firewingers blocked the lower exits; buildings with little food quickly collapsed.

Even those with ample supplies faced slow death.

Humanity’s main forces, scattered due to leveling pursuits, were helpless against organized hordes of Firewingers.

Afterward, horrific events unfolded; a few individuals leveled up.

They formed an assault team and reestablished contact between human groups.

Humanity regathered, uniting its strength.

Only then was the crisis of the Second Impact resolved.

This was still lucky—unfortunate regions saw total annihilation, no survivors.

This underscores the critical importance of information timeliness—the change it brought was immense.

Far more drastic than any shift in Fang Shi’s power.

Humanity had gone from barely avoiding extinction to nearly treating the apocalypse like a tourist trip.

Like two different worlds.

At that moment, Professor Wang, carefully observing the orbs, suddenly narrowed his eyes.

He shouted: “Danger! The monsters inside the orbs have entered the buildings!”

“They landed on rooftop terraces and descended through the terrace entrances.”

“Some civilians waiting on the rooftop staircases were killed senselessly.”

“What?!” Everyone in the room gasped in shock.

They had sat here calmly, unafraid—precisely because they knew the monsters from the other world had one fatal flaw:

They could not harm any human inside a building.

Now this iron law had been broken—how much damage would this cause?

Isn’t it simply clear that the monsters from another world have a fatal flaw?

Zhao Wenjun leapt forward first, sprinting out of the conference room toward the rooftop terrace.

He knew some civilians were recklessly bold.

Once they felt safe, their curiosity knew no bounds.

Now that monsters had landed on the rooftops, casualties must be heavy.

The others snapped to attention and rushed out.

The conference room emptied instantly, leaving only the elderly man at the head and Professor Wang.

The elder said: “Professor Wang, have you sent out the message to everyone?”

Professor Wang’s expression was grim: “I’ve notified them. This is serious.”

“Buildings offer protection, but the monsters are physically powerful and can fly—everywhere is a vulnerability.”

“If we respond too slowly, humanity will suffer massive casualties.”

The elder nodded gravely: “You’re right. You, our top mage, should head to the front lines too.”

Professor Wang said: “I’m protecting you, sir.”

The elder laughed heartily: “Life and death are fate—I’ve lived long enough.”

“Go. More people need you.”

Professor Wang said: “I am protecting you, sir.”

The old man laughed heartily: “Life and death are fate; I’ve lived long enough.”

“Go now; more people are waiting for you.”

"I believe that even if I am gone, you will be able to take up this responsibility."

Professor Wang fell silent for a moment, sensing the old man’s resolve, and finally turned away.

The old man looked at the city glowing like daylight, his heart filled with emotion.

He had witnessed this land progress from backwardness to prosperity.

He had also seen its decline after the apocalypse.

The old man did not know what the future held, but he understood that each generation had its own mission.

The future will be created by those who come after.