Chapter 16

Surviving the Catastrophe

In reality, in a vast, empty parking lot somewhere in an unknown city or province.

Chen Chong slowly opened his eyes, gazing at the familiar car ceiling, and sighed with mixed emotions.

He had lived again.

Not only that, he had also earned a second A-rank talent from the trial reward.

【Talent acquired: Steadfast Beneath the City (A), Warrior Talent — All defensive effects increase by 25% when using shield skills.】

Players with 1600 points, besides their two initial talent slots, have two additional slots that can be replaced.

Chen Chong silently swapped out his last C-rank talent for the new A-rank one.

Thus, his talent setup suddenly shifted from a mid-to-lower tier of 1A2B1C to a mid-to-upper tier of 2A2B.

In today’s ranking distribution, achieving this talent setup with just over 1600 points is exceptionally impressive, guaranteeing him greater confidence and higher survival rates in future trials.

“Cheng Shi... Do all big shots really love showing off...?”

He shook his head with a wry smile, reached idly into the stacked beer crates on the passenger seat, pulled out a bottle, and gulped it down in loud swallows.

Beer spilled everywhere, soaking his clothes, but he didn’t care—he downed four bottles before letting out a burp and slumping back against the seat.

“Ha, what a fucked-up world—it’s better as a dream.”

Chen Chong gave a bitter laugh and tossed the bottle out the window.

The bottle didn’t smash against the ground as expected; instead, it emitted a series of crisp, tinkling sounds.

He turned his gaze toward the noise—and saw the entire parking lot piled high with mountains of beer bottles.

Calling it a parking lot was misleading; a junkyard would be more accurate.

A junkyard for recycling beer bottles.

Chen Chong had never been someone who needed two bottles to fall asleep.

He drank two crates.

What he sought wasn’t sleep—it was numbness.

“End it soon. This damned world.”

In reality, in an apartment somewhere in an unknown city or province.

Cao San Sui stared blankly at the pocket watch in his hand, still dazed.

The trial ending an hour early had never happened before—he couldn’t fathom what this change meant.

But one thing he knew: in the instant he left the trial, he saw Cheng Shi’s smile.

“What was he smiling about? Why wasn’t he afraid? Did he already know the trial would end early?”

Cao San Sui’s expression grew even more suspicious.

He had always believed time never lied—he had opened the Time Battlefield during the trial.

But if time doesn’t lie, can people?

What if someone could deceive everyone—and manipulate time itself?

Then he could only be the one who gave everyone their cola...

Cheng Shi!

“Huh!?”

Cao San Sui suddenly widened his eyes, rushed to his desk, dismantled the watch face with tools, and began scrutinizing it with a magnifying glass.

As expected, after a short search, he found faint, incomplete fingerprints on the back of the hands.

There were three such marks, connected—they formed a subtle expression:

:)

“...”

Time indeed does not lie.

But someone lied to time.

Cao San Sui instantly understood—he clutched the watch and suddenly laughed, relieved.

The trial hadn’t ended early; the time in his hand had.

“Cheng Shi... impressive.”

In reality, in a basement somewhere in an unknown city or province.

Nangong sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the empty half of the beef pancake in her hand, and suddenly burst into laughter.

“I lived again... good.”

Her score remained as low as ever—even after this trial’s points, her ladder ranking barely surpassed 1400.

In today’s world, where trial difficulty increases over time, this score was far from safe.

But she felt no dissatisfaction; surviving under the gaze of [Decay] was already a miracle.

“You could have lived more easily—accelerating others’ decay is also an offering to Him.”

A hoarse voice echoed through the dark, damp basement; around her, no second person could be seen.

It was a voice from nothingness.

But Nangong was already accustomed to its presence—she pulled out her dagger and shook her head firmly.

“I won’t harm others.”

“Foolish. Embracing decay is the destiny of all beings.”

“I won’t harm others.”

“...Utterly foolish. Fine. Begin today’s sacrifice.”

Nangong blinked in surprise. “Didn’t we just sacrifice?”

“The sacrifices made in the trial were offerings to Him. This one is mine.”

Nangong’s face darkened; she bit her lip, pulled down her pants, and slashed a deep cut into her thigh with the dagger.

This cut was one stroke of the character “ Zheng ”—and such “ Zheng ” characters covered nearly all of her legs.

Crimson blood gushed instantly from the wound, rushing swiftly toward the dagger; Nangong’s face grew paler.

Only when her body temperature began to drop did the dagger stop drinking, letting out a satisfied hum.

“Is it done?”

“Yes. Heal yourself now.”

Nangong forced herself to cast a healing spell, then rummaged beneath a rotten wooden bed for a small notebook and solemnly wrote down a name.

Cheng Shi.

“You still want to repay him? Ridiculous. The gods will not let you meet again.”

“Still, I must write it down. What if?”

Nangong flipped through the pages—the fragile notebook was filled with countless names, each one someone who had once helped her.

“I helped you too. Why don’t you write my name?”

“Your payment... I’ve already given it...”

In reality, in a park somewhere in an unknown city or province.

Song Yawen stared at his trial score, dumbfounded.

【Audience Ladder +3】

“What?! Three points?! The Audience Ladder can go up by three?!”

He checked it again and again, then screamed and jumped around in place.

“Holy shit! I got +3! Guys! My Audience Ladder went up by three!”

Other players in the park turned to look at him with “this guy’s insane” expressions, but it didn’t dampen Song Yawen’s enthusiasm—he ran circles around his living area, shouting as he ran:

“Tell me, is that impressive or not? I just got +3! Has anyone ever seen +3?!”

Finally, someone grew tired of his yelling and shouted back:

“Song Yawen, are you fucking crazy? The Audience Ladder maxes out at +2! Are you dreaming?!”

Song Yawen didn’t stop—he kept shouting:

“You know nothing! I didn’t misread the reward panel! A big shot carried me—used his ultimate and directly met the true god! I’m not on your level anymore, got it?”

“Really? Who’s the big shot? What’s his class and faith?”

“Of course I’d tell you... I’d tell you a pile of shit! You think you’re allowed to know a big shot’s name?”

After speaking, he ignored how those around him viewed him and continued loudly expressing himself until he had fully exhausted his excitement and relief at having survived, then finally quieted down and returned to his tent.

Then...

He kept typing in every channel:

“My Audience Ladder went up by three, guys. Look how awesome I am?”

“Haha, nope, not looking.”

In reality, in a standalone villa somewhere in an unknown city or province.

In the shattered mirror, a pale figure faintly took shape.

If one focused closely, one could barely make out a hand, covered in calluses from bowstrings, hesitantly reaching toward a pair of long, beautiful legs.

“Cheng Shi...”

The whisper rang out—[Birth] bloomed.

He gazed upon this place once more, dispelling the frost from her face, granting her a new blessing.