Rain in the lower district always smelled like expired engine oil.
"Pfft—"
A hover cab slammed to a stop right in front of a pothole. Filthy water leapt out of it and splashed across Lu Jin from chest to shoes with malicious precision.
The window dropped a crack. The driver's human eye held nothing but disgust. The other was a cheap red-lit cybernetic, flicking over Lu Jin's chest.
One glance at the faintly glowing ID tag there and the driver wrinkled his nose.
"D-class?" He sounded like he'd just stepped in something. "System says taking you tanks my credit rating. Get lost. Don't die in my cab."
The window slid up. The exhaust vent spat warm fumes in Lu Jin's face as the cab shot off.
Lu Jin didn't even bother cursing back. The fight earlier—the "surgery" in the alley—had only lasted a few dozen seconds, but the crash afterwards was hitting him like a delayed train. The adrenaline was gone. His lungs felt crammed with ground glass. Every breath had to be measured carefully, avoiding the sharp edges.
The wad of cash in his jacket—over thirty thousand yuan, warmed by his body heat—couldn't buy him a ride home.
That was D-class. In a world that worshipped genes, having money didn't keep you from being trash. It just made you rich trash.
He dragged himself along the wet wall toward his apartment block. In the upper-left of his vision, the red countdown burned like a wound.
[Time until first interest settlement: 23:14:22][Current debt: ¥19,998.00]
"High-interest hell," he muttered, twisting his mouth into something that might've been a smile. His vision pulsed dark for a moment.
Right as he thought he might actually black out in the rain, his phone buzzed frantically in his pocket.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Not a collection notice.
Radar.
Lu Jin forced his eyes open and swiped the screen up.
The Blackstone shelter radar schematic filled the display. Two green dots were already pressed up against the front gate.
Behind them, a big red blob was barreling straight toward the same spot.
—
A-11 Wasteland Zone · Blackstone Shelter
Outside was a storm of ice-blue blades. Inside, the shelter held steady at a soft, human 24°.
Li Xing didn't feel warm.
She was kneeling in front of the heavy alloy gate, fingers twisted into the hem of her coat hard enough to bleach her knuckles.
Thudding rumbled through the door. Muffled voices rode the storm, so faint they were nearly swallowed by the wind.
"Jie… Sister Li Xing… open up… please…"
Little Shitou.
The kid who used to follow her around, licking the empty nutrient bar wrappers she threw away.
On the monitor, the scrawny boy was bent nearly double under the weight of an unconscious old man. He pounded on the black steel door like he wanted to break his hands, face scraped raw by the crystal storm.
Blue shards cut his arms and cheeks every time the wind shifted. Lines of blood froze almost immediately on his skin.
Li Xing's hand shook as she reached toward the door panel.
One push, and they'd live.
Her palm hovered a finger's width over the button.
She looked back over her shoulder.
White carpet with no stains. Walls bathed in soft light. The quiet, clean air, touched with a faint hint of lavender.
No rot. No mud. No blood.
This was the listener's kingdom. A place pulled out of some unreachable heaven. Pure, private space gifted to her alone.
If she brought in two bodies soaked in wasteland filth and gods knew what pathogens… would the god get angry? Decide she was a presumptuous brat? Take it all away?
The thought came cold and hard. Her heart cinched.
A soft, broken sound slipped out of her.
She didn't open the door. She couldn't walk away either.
Li Xing turned, dropped to the carpet, and pressed her forehead against it, right under the blinking red camera.
"Listener…" Her voice scraped her throat raw. "Shitou… he'll die. Please…"
The wall shook with a deep clang.
The whole room shivered.
Li Xing jerked her head up and stared at the monitor.
Out in the blizzard of shards, something massive pushed through the storm.
A beast, three meters at the shoulder, shoulders ridged with jagged blue crystal growths. Its eyes burned hot and red: a Crystal-Spine Rage Bear.
It had caught the scent of blood.
Little Shitou collapsed into the snow, legs giving out. The bear lumbered—no, charged—toward him and the old man. Its mouth yawned open, teeth like broken steel, saliva dripping onto the old man's face.
—
Reality · At the Foot of the Apartment Block
Lu Jin leaned against the rusted stair rail under his building's awning, rain still pattering off the corrugated plastic. On the phone screen, the beast filled the frame, rising over the two survivors like a nightmare.
Save them? Or not?
Saving them meant exposing the shelter. More mouths to feed. More unknowns inside the safe zone. The rational move was to wait, let the bear finish its meal, then roll in later.
On-screen, Li Xing's posture at the door caught his eye again—head pressed to the floor, begging.
Something unpleasant flared in his chest.
"I didn't put you there to grovel," he muttered. "You're supposed to be the one they bow to."
He ground his molars and jabbed the screen.
[High-threat lifeform detected!][Your territory is under attack! Do nothing, and your property may gain… unwanted history!]
The scam-panel popped open with obvious glee.
[Security Upgrade · Say Goodbye to Fear of Insufficient Firepower!]Tired of tanking mobs with your face? Remember: truth lives at the end of your firing range!
Recommended: "Rainstorm" Close-In Defense Gun (T1 Civilian Version)Specs: Twin 12.7mm barrels · Smart thermal target tracking · One-button deployment
First-install discount: ¥2,888.00 (mounting included)
Note: We have to eat too. Ammo sold separately (¥10.00 / round).
"Ten yuan a bullet?" Lu Jin almost bit through his tongue. "You shooting solid gold?"
The bear's roar blew through his speakers. On the feed, one crystal-clawed paw lifted. It hung half a meter above Little Shitou's skull.
No more time.
Lu Jin looked at the balance he'd just bled for. His heart complained. His finger didn't.
"Buy it. And a hundred rounds."
[Payment complete. ¥3,888.00 deducted. Balance: ¥17,359.00.]
[Thank you for your purchase! May merciful fire cleanse all things!]
—
Wasteland
Little Shitou squeezed his eyes shut.
The only thing he felt, though, wasn't teeth. It was vibration.
Chik—whump.
Up above, the Blackstone fortress's roofline shifted. A segment flipped back. A twin-barrel gun pod rose out of the casing like a mechanical altar piece.
A red target line snapped onto the bear's head.
The world punched his ears.
The gun spat flame.
It didn't really sound like gunfire. It sounded like someone feeding stacks of cash into a shredder.
The Rage Bear's crystal plating, tough enough to shrug off rocks and weaker beasts, didn't mean much against 12.7mm armor-piercing rounds. Dark red spray burst into the storm, crystals and bone fragments scattering.
It never even got the chance to roar again. Half of its skull simply stopped existing. The bulk of it toppled sideways into the snow.
Little Shitou fell back, eyes full of red haze and fire.
In that moment, every story his mother ever told him about a kind earth goddess shriveled and died. The god that ruled this patch of wasteland wore black walls and spat metal storms.
A god of steel.
—
Reality
"Stop! Stop, stop, it's dead! You'll blow the whole mountain in half!"
Lu Jin practically yelled at the ammo counter.
[Remaining ammo: 42 / 100]
Three seconds. Fifty-eight rounds. Five hundred and eighty yuan evaporated.
This wasn't firing. This was open-air cremation of his bank balance.
The gun went quiet.
Lu Jin drew in a breath that hurt slightly less than it had a few minutes ago. He swallowed down the ache, opened the command overlay, and typed:
[Open the door. Entryway only.]
—
In the shelter, Li Xing stared at the monitor, at the twitching bear corpse, at the cratered snow.
Divine punishment.
This was what godly wrath looked like.
A pale line of text slid across her retina.
She flinched, then broke into a run.
Her fingers slammed the red button on the panel.
The seal hissed.
The door slid aside.
Cold wind and slicing flakes rushed in, immediately smothered by a blast of warm conditioned air.
Outside, Little Shitou curled in on himself in the snow, arms over his head. Warmth hit his cheeks. He blinked up through ice-lashed lashes and saw her.
A girl in a torn lab coat, still grimy, but framed by light. One hand braced on the door. The other extended toward him.
"Come in," Li Xing said. Her voice quivered, but her grip was iron when she caught his sleeve.
Little Shitou scrambled, half dragging, half carrying the limp old man through the glowing threshold.
The door sealed shut behind them, cutting the storm off like someone flicked a switch.
He collapsed on the mat just inside the door. When he looked up, his mouth fell open.
Soft light. Seamless walls with no cracks, no stains. A white circular device humming around his feet, already busy sucking up the slush he'd tracked in.
"This is…" His brain ran out of labels. "Heaven?"
He looked at Li Xing, clutching a towel and frantically wiping the old man's face.
His gaze changed.
She wasn't just another scavenger girl anymore.
He was looking at an emissary.
He toppled forward, knees hitting the mat, head bowing hard enough that it had to hurt.
"Thank you… thank you, fairy sister… thank you…"
—
Reality · At the Bottom of the Stairs
The phone flared again, brighter than before. The gold light had a streak of clean silver threaded through it.
[Detected surge of Gratitude and nascent Awe!]
[Hidden achievement unlocked: First Cry of the Shelter.]
[Holy Song feedback processing…]
[Special feedback acquired: Residual Mercy.]
[Lung fibrosis repair progress: +2.5%.]
[Current mental resistance: E+ (slight increase).]
[Observation Target: Li Xing]
[Holy Song Realm: Mortal Echo · Faint Light tier]
[Level: LV1]
[Growth: 136 / 200 → 168 / 200]
[Progress: Faint Light LV1 (168 / 200)]
A mint-cool sensation slid from the phone into Lu Jin's palm, ran up his arm, and spread across his ribs.
The raw burn in his lungs dialed back like someone turned down a knob. The lead weight in his legs eased.
He leaned against the clammy wall and blew out a breath. No iron taste rode it this time.
"Finally."
He rotated his shoulders, listening for the usual crackle of pain. It was still there, but muffled. For the first time since the alley, his body didn't feel like it was about to fall apart in chunks.
"Three thousand eight hundred eighty-eight…" he murmured, eyes still on the screen. "Plus food, plus water later… you two had better pay out as long-term investments."
His gaze slid to the old man lying on the foyer floor.
The shelter's high-res cameras had picked up something small.
The old man's eyelids twitched. The hand hidden under his tattered coat inched toward his chest.
Lu Jin pinched to zoom.
Half of a small black metal device peeked out between the old man's fingers. On its side was a tiny symbol, sharp even at high zoom: a stylized ark wrapped in a double-helix.
[War-era symbol fragment detected. Running database search…]
[Match complete.]
A fresh translucent panel drifted over the feed, crammed with notes.
[Target Organization: Codename "Ark"]
[Type: Illegal ruins recovery network (highly covert).]
[Primary activities: Pre-war site exploration · unsanctioned gene sample trade · black market high-risk tech.]
[Composite threat level: B-class (recommendation: avoid… or exploit).]
[Note: Ark members typically possess large volumes of unpublished intel. Certain factions pay premiums for live captures.]
"Ark," Lu Jin repeated, finger hovering over the line about black-market tech.
He'd heard the whispers in the lower district. People joked about "maniacs digging up old gods' skeletons under the wasteland."
This was the first time he'd seen the term printed in the system's neat font.
The sour twist on his face smoothed out.
If that old man really was Ark peripheral—maybe even core—his brain might be worth more than ten shelters.
Lu Jin's mouth bent into a sharper line, eyes catching a cold light that had nothing to do with the rain.
"Interesting."
He nudged his glasses up and started up the stairs, the building swallowing him.
"System. Keep a lock on that old bastard. If his hand moves the wrong way…"
His voice drifted up the stairwell, threaded with something almost cheerful.
"…the next ten-yuan bullet's his."