Half an hour later, international news dropped a bombshell. In the past thirty minutes, the Earth had shaken with dozens of earthquakes in every major city. This was a world-level disaster, with tens of millions of quake sources ranging from magnitude 3 all the way to magnitude 8. The data on the screen scrolled in a frantic blur of red numbers and emergency locations.
China had issued a red alert for the third time since the apocalypse began. The first was for extreme heat, the second for nationwide floods, and now came the earthquake alert. It meant the third year of the apocalypse had officially begun.
Right then, Wu City dominated the trending feed.
"Wu City is Gone!"
Those massive, bold characters filled the screen. The drone footage streaming live showed only the tip of the iceberg, the camera lens shaking and covered in digital static.
Where the city once stood, several giant sinkholes had opened up. Each was hundreds of meters wide, their jagged depths impossible to see. Water from Wu City's rivers and lakes poured into the holes like mad, spinning into monstrous, turbid whirlpools that sucked in everything nearby. The vortex spread wider and wider. It dragged houses, cars, and screaming people into its deadly pull.
From above, it looked like the Earth itself had birthed a tornado at its core, swallowing everything like a massive black hole. And with the quakes tearing the ground apart, Wu City's buildings didn't last more than a few minutes before crumbling into nothing, leaving behind only clouds of grey dust.
So yes, Wu City really was gone. People had thought they would move back after the floodwaters receded, but now half the city had been swallowed up in one nightmarish quake.
Reports explained that the city's falling water levels weren't natural at all. The "dragon eyes" had devoured everything, and the quakes had collapsed even more land around them. Experts were scrambling to find a fix, their faces pale on the TV broadcast.
"Professional warning: those sinkhole zones are unstable and extremely dangerous. Wu City officials have cordoned off the surrounding kilometers. Entry is forbidden." The text flashed in bright red at the bottom of the screen.
Right after that, every phone in the family buzzed with loading errors. Ten seconds later, "network unavailable" flashed across the screens as the signal icons dropped to zero.
Jing Shu knew what it meant. The towers were down. The 5G era had officially died in the apocalypse. From now on, humanity would be stuck with a turtle-slow 2E network. Luckily, she had already downloaded all the data she needed, even the latest offline maps and survival guides.
The family had packed up by then. Zijin had already slipped out through the window ten minutes earlier, insisting on joining the government's rescue teams. Jing Shu had no choice but to hand her some of Grandma Jing's hard patties as rations. The dry flour and red dates provided some weight in the girl's pockets. Jing Shu sent her off with Xiao Li from the No. 2 squad.
Soon enough, Zijin would see for herself that the world had completely changed.
Thunder rumbled overhead, a low, continuous growl. The main quake had passed, but aftershocks kept coming. Sometimes they hit every minute, sometimes with ten minutes in between, unpredictable and nerve-wracking. The ground would shudder lightly, making the silverware clink, then suddenly rock with a hard jolt.
Grandma Jing clutched Xiao Dou tightly. Every tremor made her yank a handful of feathers. The poor hen shrieked, "Cluck cluck cluck!" but she couldn't get free. The bird was terrified too, burying herself against Grandma Jing for comfort.
"Let's go, we should head for the back mountain too," Grandma Jing said nervously. "These quakes keep hitting out of nowhere. They will drive me crazy."
"Yeah, let's go," Jing An agreed. "Wu You'ai said people are gathering in the back mountain already. It's safer there. With the whole world shaking, the higher-ups won't have time to worry about us."
Right then, a burst of gunfire exploded outside, the sharp cracks echoing off the villa walls.
The family froze mid-step.
Jing Shu opened the door and saw the villa next door. At the gate lay more than ten corpses, piled up like trash on the pavement. The guard there, Uncle Liu, the same man she greeted every day, casually blew the smoke off his rifle. He waved to the other bodyguards, and they dragged the corpses away.
When Uncle Liu spotted her, he gave an awkward smile. "Sorry if we scared you. Some idiots always think they can sneak in during chaos and make a profit. Too bad for them, they picked the wrong house. The boss and miss are gone, but we're still here to guard the place."
Jing Shu narrowed her eyes. Having money and bodyguards really was nice. "Don't worry, Uncle Liu. Just be careful. We're heading out too; this damn quake has scared half the neighborhood out of their wits."
Uncle Liu polished his rifle, the metal glinking in the dim light. "Need me for a side job? Twenty virtual coins a day. Bullets are five coins each, extra."
She thought for a second, then nodded. "Sure, I will trouble you then."
"Hah, knew I could count on you for some pocket change."
Jing Shu went back inside. "Dad, Mom, let's move. Someone tried to rob next door and got shot by the guards. I hired Uncle Liu to watch our place while we're gone. Let's take the RV; it's safer than staying put."
"Are you sure about the RV? These quakes are unpredictable. If a big one hits, it could tip over."
She had already prepared for that. Long before, she had spent a fortune buying materials from Qian Duoduo and reinforced the RV's wheels with stabilizers. The RV already came with an anti-tip system, but she had added another layer. Better paranoid than dead.
The RV could tilt up to forty degrees without flipping, but if the ground really cracked open, no one could guarantee anything. Still, she couldn't reveal she had built it specifically for earthquakes. She brushed it off as standard equipment, tricking the family into climbing aboard.
With Jing An driving, they rolled out slowly from the villa, the heavy engine giving a low, powerful thrum.
Grandma Jing refused to leave the animals behind. She worried that if the house collapsed, all the chickens and ducks would die. Since they had the RV, she happily loaded them up, even scooping fish from the pond into buckets. They brought along pigs and sheep too, just in case.
In no time, the RV turned into a full-blown barn on wheels. The interior smelled of damp hay and terrified poultry.
But she wasn't wrong. They might not come back for days. Jing Shu didn't object, instead using the chance to test how livestock would fare inside. How to manage smell, space, and feed were lessons they would only learn in a real disaster. Last time had just been a short trip. This time was survival.
The RV rumbled onto the road, its weight making the chassis creak as it navigating the bucking pavement.
That was when the back mountain thundered like it was splitting apart. A bolt of lightning tore down, blinding and violent. Jing Shu's eyes narrowed as she gripped the seat. Something big was coming.