Ke Lingxuan’s hands trembled violently as she clutched the wristband. A chilling cold spread through her entire body.
A flood of emotions clogged her chest—shock, rage, disbelief. She couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so malicious, yet the undeniable scene before her made it clear: yes, people could be that cruel.
The near-sighted man’s ecstatic expression froze. He took an uneasy step back.
Ke Lingxuan’s mind was blank, her voice barely above a whisper: “Are game points really that important to you?”
The near-sighted man’s lips quivered. He didn’t dare meet her gaze.
Ke Lingxuan was so furious that her voice shook. “Did Karl ever do anything to wrong you? Just how much do you have to hate him to hide his wristband and leave him for dead?”
The near-sighted man was flustered, his forehead drenched in sweat. He stammered in a weak attempt to justify himself: “I… I don’t hate him. These are just the game rules. I didn’t break any rules. A lot of people think this way… it’s not just me.”
Elena thought this way. The short-haired girl thought this way.
He wasn’t wrong.
So why was Ke Lingxuan looking at him like that? With such raw disappointment and anger.
She let out a sarcastic laugh. “Right, the system doesn’t care. So you sleep just fine at night?”
The mental aptitude assessment was a serious matter. The system didn’t intervene in conflicts between players—it had set a danger threshold, and if exceeded, it would forcibly remove players. Death wasn’t permanent.
Ke Lingxuan took a deep breath, eyes rimmed red. “I’ve played this game for over ten rounds now, winning and losing plenty. But this is the first time I’ve met people like you. Three in one go. My luck’s really sh*t.”
The near-sighted man stood there dazed, his mind completely scattered. His ears rang with the sound of his own heartbeat. He wanted to explain—but his mouth just wouldn’t move.
Ke Lingxuan’s cat-like eyes glinted with chilling hostility. “You really want to win, huh?”
She slid Karl’s wristband onto her own wrist, lips curling into a mocking smile. “Dream on. You’re right—this game allows us to steal photos. So let’s see who takes whose.”
The near-sighted man paled in terror, stumbling back another step. His knife was taken by Elena—he had nothing left.
His back hit a cold, jagged rock. He reached out, fingers brushing against its rough surface.
At the same time, Black Jacket’s voice echoed in the distance.
“Hey! Did you find anything?”
He had teamed up with Ke Lingxuan earlier, so he must have heard something. But Black Jacket was never the type to care much about his teammates. He had only stuck with Lin Jing because, as an engineering student from the Mecha Department, he admired strength.
Now, after circling a cave and finding nothing, he finally remembered Ke Lingxuan existed and lazily called out to her.
Ke Lingxuan kept her cold gaze fixed on the near-sighted man but responded to Black Jacket. “I’m here.”
Black Jacket scratched his head, trying to find his way. “Where? This d*mn mountain has too many twists and turns. Give me something more specific.”
“Go left—”
She didn’t get to finish.
Suddenly, the near-sighted man’s face twisted into a savage snarl.
Like a wild beast, he lunged at her, gripping a sharp rock, swinging it straight at her head.
“Motherf*—”
Ke Lingxuan’s patience, her carefully maintained graceful and kind persona, shattered completely.
She let out a curse and caught his wrist mid-swing.
The sharp rock stopped just one millimeter from her forehead.
The near-sighted man’s eyes bulged, nostrils flaring. He held his breath, straining to land one final hit, his bloodshot eyes filled with a singular, obsessive thought— Shut her up. Kill her.
Ke Lingxuan had been furious before, but now—now, she just felt speechless.
And disgusted.
A deep, overwhelming disgust.
“You’re seriously messed up!”
Her score was well above average in this match, and her abilities weren’t weak. Taking down a scrawny, cowardly shut-in like him? Not even a challenge.
She wrenched his wrist down hard—a brutal, twisting motion.
Crack.
The sickening sound of bone dislocating echoed through the cave.
The near-sighted man let out an agonized scream, his entire face scrunched up in unbearable pain, his features contorted into something hideous.
Meanwhile, Black Jacket had been making his way over when he heard the scream.
He stopped in his tracks, confused.
“Wait—where the h*ll are you? And what’s with all the yelling? You fighting someone?”
Ke Lingxuan ignored him for now. She only focused on the near-sighted man.
“Consider this revenge for Karl.”
Just as she was about to finish him off—
Something black lunged at her.
A foul, putrid stench filled the air.
Ke Lingxuan froze.
A wave of cold dread washed over her.
……The spider.
The one they had ignored all this time.
The moment a player died, their body converted into raw data and vanished completely.
Which meant—The spider’s meal had disappeared.
It had been starving. Now, its red, beady eyes glowed hungrily as it sniffed out the only two targets left in the cave.
Ke Lingxuan hesitated for just a second.
And in that split second—
The near-sighted man seized his chance.
He gathered all his strength and smashed a rock against her temple.
“Agh—!”
She staggered back, blood immediately gushing from her scalp.
Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch her wound. Warm. Sticky. Red.
The near-sighted man’s lips had barely started to curl into a victorious sneer—And then his face twisted into a look of pure horror.
Because even with the fresh blood in the air, the spider had chosen him.
Eight long, black-furred legs latched onto his face. From its mouth, a thick stream of white silk began to ooze out, wrapping around his skin.
“NO—NO—DON’T COME NEAR ME—AAAAAHH!”
The near-sighted man frantically clawed at the spider, but before he could even tear it off— the spider sank its fangs into his flesh.
Instantly, the bite mark darkened into a sickly blue-black. The venom spread at an alarming rate.
His legs gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, a helpless, broken mess of screams and sobs.
On the other side of the cave, Ke Lingxuan’s head pounded violently, her vision swaying.
The pain was unbearable. Her body trembled.
She crouched down, trying to steady herself.
The more she thought about it, the more rage bubbled up inside her.
Tears welled up because of pain, frustration, and sheer, seething fury.
“What kind of person…?”
Tears and blood mixed together on Ke Lingxuan’s face. She spoke incoherently, her voice choked with sobs and congestion.
“Left, right? Ah, I think I found the way.”
Black Jacket finally followed the sound and arrived. But the cheerful tone in his voice cut off abruptly.
He stood frozen, staring at the scene before him.
“You guys…”
The black spider was a creature from the Carboniferous period—an anomaly in this world. The moment it appeared, the system flagged it as an unnatural entity and began the process of erasing it.
Even as it spun silk around the near-sighted man’s face, its body had already started fading.
The same was happening to the near-sighted man himself—his entire head wrapped in thick spider silk, his expression locked in pure despair, suffocating to death.
On the other side of the cave, Ke Lingxuan sat curled up, hugging her knees, her head buried.
She, too, had been bitten by the spider. The venom had already spread silently through her body.
She wouldn’t last much longer.
A complete tragedy.
Black Jacket was completely stunned.
Ke Lingxuan looked utterly defeated. She wouldn’t even lift her head. The cave was filled with nothing but the hoarse sound of her crying and the grotesque chewing noises of the spider.
Snapping out of his daze, he rushed forward, reaching out to pull her up—
But his hand passed straight through her body.
Only air.
And just like that, the sound of her sobbing faded.
As if it had all been a dream.
On the ground, all that remained was:
A wristband
A photo album
A camera
The camera suddenly powered on, spitting out photo after photo.
Crinoids.
Jellyfish.
Coral reefs.
Captured by a girl’s hands, each image carried a sense of lightness, romance, and life.
Black Jacket stood there, dumbfounded. Then he turned back—
The spider and the near-sighted man had completely vanished.
Only the wristband, album, and camera remained.
Black Jacket was even more confused.
“Hey!”
***
“Did you hear that?” Elena suddenly asked.
The cave system was a maze, but its acoustics were terrible.
As they neared the sinkhole exit, the sounds from inside traveled clearly to their location.
Ke Lingxuan’s sobbing.
The near-sighted man’s screams.
And Black Jacket’s shocked yelling.
Lin Jing paused mid-step, looking toward the source of the noise.
He had overestimated some people’s humanity.
Elena, standing in the darkness, watched his expression with a smirk.
Her tone was lighthearted, teasing:
“My dear Lin, you’re not feeling guilty, are you?”
Lin Jing: “How is that any of your business?”
Elena, unexpectedly, reassured him. “I just hope you don’t blame yourself. It’s not your job to play hero.”
Her voice carried an eerie certainty.
“Besides, this outcome doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Lin Jing glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze back and continuing toward the sinkhole.
Elena smiled behind him, her voice as sweet as a snake flicking its tongue.
“Isn’t this how reality works? The ones who survive and benefit in the end… Are never the kindest, nor the cruelest.”
Lin Jing: “You’re talking about reality? In a game?”
Elena’s smile deepened, her meaning clear. “Who says games aren’t real? For some people, games feel more real than reality itself.”
Lin Jing stopped walking.
He took a slow, deep breath and said, plain and direct: “Do you know what all your little games look like to Xu Wanzhi?”
Elena blinked. “What?”
Lin Jing repeated Xu Wanzhi’s exact words: “A painfully obvious, pathetic attempt at manipulation.”
Elena’s smile froze.
“Utterly foolish. And to me, you’re no different. If I want to know about the cosmic fireworks, I’ll find out myself. If I want to understand his past, I’ll ask him directly. No matter how much you tell me, it won’t change how I see him.”
Elena finally stopped smiling.
They had stepped out of the cave, and the pillar-like sunlight poured down from the sky. In the half-light, half-shadow, her expression carried a mix of mockery and indifference.
“Yeah, I’ve known that for a long time. I was never going to change your mind.”
She smiled faintly, her demeanor shifting, voice lowering to something almost gentle.
“I’ve always been curious about what kind of person Xu Wanzhi would fall for. Before you came along, I didn’t even think he knew what it meant to like someone. The Aurora explosion wasn’t an accident. It was a carefully planned act of revenge. And do you know who the mastermind was?”
Lin Jing didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t—”
Elena interrupted: “His mother.”
The words Lin Jing had been about to say stuck in his throat.
Elena’s smile deepened. “A woman ruled by emotions, selfish to the extreme. The son of an empire’s eternal criminal—how does someone like that deserve to live peacefully? How does someone like that deserve to love like a normal person?”
She leaned in, her tone mocking, merciless.
“Xu Wanzhi was never normal to begin with. Like his mother, he was always destined to be a madman. I was trying to save you, but you’re too blinded to see it.”
Lin Jing’s gaze was cold and unyielding.
Elena sighed, as if losing interest.
“Fine, stay blind if you want.”
Then, softly, almost tenderly: “But what I really want to see… is Xu Wanzhi suffering.”
“How does it feel to watch someone you care about die in front of you?”
Her eyes curved in amusement.
“I’d like him to experience it. After all—”
Before Lin Jing could react, she had already moved.
A military knife slid from her sleeve, gripped tight in her pale hand.
With a single thrust, the blade plunged straight into his back, aiming for his heart.
She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin, as she whispered the final words: “An eye for an eye.”
Lin Jing’s reflexes kicked in an instant.
With sheer force, he shoved Elena away.
“The nuclear reactor explosion—was that also one of your fireworks for him?”
Elena stumbled back but didn’t look surprised. Instead, she simply gripped the knife’s handle tightly, lips curving into an eerie smile.
“That’s right. And you know what? He always knew.”
She tilted her head, watching Lin Jing.
“Tell me, my dear—why are you even in this game? Your skill level doesn’t belong in this bracket. It’s way too high. So, was it for him?”
Lin Jing: “….”
Lin Jing: “Think whatever you want.”
Elena let out a soft chuckle.
Then, suddenly, she closed the distance between them again.
The dim light from above illuminated her seductive yet ice-cold features. Her deep red hair contrasted starkly against her pale face.
She whispered, almost teasingly: “But you’re weak. Mental power doesn’t lie.”
Lin Jing’s entire body tensed, his eyes filled with both wariness and disgust. He watched as this madwoman continued to advance on him, step by step.
Elena flipped the knife in her hand effortlessly, her grip perfect, precise.
“I’m guessing you had a serious illness in the real world.”
She smiled. “And if your mental state takes any more damage in this game… What do you think will happen to you, Lin?”
“…..”
She had struck Lin Jing’s weak spot directly.
Lin Jing had never considered Elena to be so intelligent. He had always thought of her as a heartless, venomous madwoman.
Perhaps Elena had truly come for Xu Wanzhi.
A woman capable of altering the data in a submarine’s nuclear power chamber could hardly be simple.
“Then you might be disappointed.”
Lin Jing wasn’t sure if he could defeat her, and he wasn’t interested in taking the risk. He took a step back, his long legs retreating as the howling wind surged upward from the abyss, lifting the hem of his shirt and tousling the black strands of hair at his forehead. The sunlight illuminated the faint smile at the corner of his lips—gentle, nonchalant, and laced with irony.
Returning to the sinkhole had been his plan all along. If Elena had the guts, she could follow him.
“Elena, forget Xu Wanzhi—you’re not even worthy of laying a hand on me.”
Even if he couldn’t win in a fight, he had to maintain his presence. He wouldn’t lose face.
With those parting words, Lin Jing clutched the codex in his arms and, under Elena’s stunned gaze, leaped directly into the abyss.
Darkness swallowed him inch by inch, and the wind rushing up from below carried the damp scent of the sea.
Lin Jing found himself lost in thought. He had fallen like this many times before—into the deep seas of the Ordovician period, the skies of the Carboniferous period, surrounded by jellyfish and dragonflies, time and rainforests. But back then, he had never been alone. Xu Wanzhi would always be beside him, laughing as he urged him to open his eyes.
Lin Jing had always followed the rules. Meeting someone who walked the edge of them had felt like discovering an entirely new world.
***
Elena stood at the edge of the sinkhole, her face cold, her chest rising and falling with restrained fury as she gripped the handle of her knife tightly. The sinkhole was too vast—even if she jumped after him, there was no guarantee she could find Lin Jing. She hadn’t expected him to gamble like this.
As she hesitated, slow and deliberate footsteps suddenly echoed behind her.
Elena’s body stiffened before a wave of exhilaration surged through her. A rush of vengeance-fueled pleasure filled her, and she smiled.
Turning around, she met Xu Wanzhi’s indifferent gaze—just as she had expected.
A faint, nearly imperceptible mist lingered in the cave, swirling between light and shadow. Xu Wanzhi stood at the dimly lit entrance, his long legs poised, his expression distant—like an unfeeling deity. The tear mole at the corner of his eye seemed to glisten with a cold, misty sheen.
For the first time since revealing her true intentions, Elena faced him with composure. She suppressed the thrill bubbling inside her and spoke in a sweet, playful tone. “Wan, would you say this is the first time you’ve really looked at me?”
Xu Wanzhi lowered his gaze, watching her from afar.
Elena was sickeningly delighted. “Are you angry, my dear Wan? I thought you didn’t have emotions.”
Xu Wanzhi raised a hand, brushing a fingertip against the tear mole at his eye before shifting his gaze toward the sinkhole. He took a step forward, looking at her again—not with disdain, nor with anger.
Elena’s breath caught, her smile faltering for the first time.
Xu Wanzhi leaned slightly toward her, his gaze as thin and sharp as first-fallen snow. “Do you really think surveillance affects me that much?”
His voice, low and husky, carried a chilling undertone—like a lethal poison.
Elena forced herself to stay calm, feigning ignorance. “What surveillance?”
Xu Wanzhi smirked faintly. “Do you know why I didn’t kill you before?”
Elena had never experienced such a moment of utter disarray. The hatred she had harbored for years no longer gave her strength.
Her mind was in chaos, but she forced herself to hold her ground, sneering sharply. “Even if you don’t kill me, what does that prove? Everyone at the research institute knows you’re a monste—”
Before she could finish, her words turned into a strangled gasp.
Her eyes widened in shock.
At some point, the knife in her grip had ended up in Xu Wanzhi’s hands.
The heart was the core of one’s mental power—the most direct yet most vulnerable point. The instant the blade plunged into her heart, the pain was cold, sharp, and vividly real.
Elena stared at Xu Wanzhi, unblinking.
He twirled the knife between his long fingers, then looked up and smiled at her. “You’re not wrong.”
She bit down on her tongue, the taste of blood filling her mouth. Her eyes burned red, her vision blurred with tears.
Her spiritual core was shattering, but her heart still beat—slow and cold. Thump. Thump. Thump.
With a twisted smile, Elena murmured, “I thought a 3S-class monster like you… wouldn’t feel hatred.”
Xu Wanzhi let go of the knife, not sparing her another glance as he replied indifferently, “I don’t need hatred.”
Footsteps echoed through the cave once more—hurried and uncertain.
A man in a black jacket rushed in, his arms full of scattered photographs. His voice rang out in confusion: “Where is everyone? Is there even anyone left in this d*mn cave?”
His words caught in his throat as his gaze landed on Elena.
Her eyes were red with unshed tears, her face pale and streaked with them.
Black Jacket froze. “Elena, y-you… are you okay?”
Elena leaned back against the wall, let out two light chuckles, and then covered her face with one hand.
Black Jacket: “???”
Why was everyone in this world so dramatic? Compared to them, he felt like a clueless fool—just a lucky, clueless fool.
***
The sinkhole was not bottomless.
The further Lin Jing fell, the stronger the scent of the sea became. In theory, he should have been accelerating downward, but instead, at a certain point, he began to slow. A sudden, unseen resistance in the air allowed him to land gently on his feet.
The darkness was thick and impenetrable, but ahead, a faint blue light shimmered—guiding him forward.
Lin Jing steadied his thoughts and walked toward it. The light passed through the darkness like gossamer, tangibly brushing against his fingertips. The path was rugged and narrow, still within the cave—confining, difficult to traverse. Then, suddenly, it opened up into a vast, expansive space.
A brilliant blue glow emanated from one of the cave walls, casting shifting waves of light across the stalactites, illuminating the cavern in a mesmerizing display. It was silent—so silent that only his own footsteps echoed around him.
Lin Jing stepped closer to the wall, his pupils contracting in shock.
A glass wall, towering over ten meters high and wide, stretched before him.
And beyond the glass…
Was the sea.
It was a vast, azure underwater world from the Paleozoic era.
Sea lilies swayed freely, jagged reefs stretched in bizarre shapes, jellyfish drifted leisurely, and small fish species from the Permian period, fully developed, swam among green seaweed, blowing colorful bubbles.
The refracted light of the seawater was gentle and dreamlike, a deep blue merging into the darkness.
Lin Jing stood there, dazed.
He stared through the glass into the world inside.
The ocean had its own sound.
The waves surged in rhythmic pulses, carrying the distant and mysterious whispers of ancient life forms.
Lin Jing found himself lost in thought. So, in this simulation, were the land and the deep sea actually interconnected?
The world beyond the glass was a real, living ocean.
Something large glided past above him. Lin Jing looked up and saw a shark. Permian sharks ruled the seas, and this one looked peculiar—its dorsal fin was tall and towering, its upper jaw sharp, while its lower jaw curled into a spiraling mass of teeth. It moved slowly through the water, dragging its massive body along. Lin Jing froze for only a second before instinctively grabbing his camera and snapping a photo.
Click. The white flash went off, startling the Helicoprion. Its fierce eyes flicked toward the glass.
But with the glass separating them, Lin Jing could see it, while it couldn’t see him.
Standing there in silence, he continued capturing images of the ancient sea creatures one by one.
Light and shadows filtered through the algae, the only sounds around him were the soft murmurs of water and his own steady breathing. A jellyfish floated past, translucent and tinged with amber, its tendrils drifting lazily. Lin Jing, caught in a moment of inspiration, put his camera away and reached out to touch it. It was cool to the touch. Lin Jing smiled soundlessly, then pressed his palm flat against the glass, fitting it perfectly to the surface.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
The sea lilies swayed like blooming flowers, and in the midst of a cluster of red echinoderms, he caught sight of a faint reflection of a figure behind him.
Tall and slender, bathed in shifting light, the glow traced the contours of his delicate collarbone, down to his wrist, then to his lips—cold and distant.
Lin Jing’s fingers rested against the glass, an inexplicable sense of familiarity washing over him. It was a strangely tender moment.
Like a dream, so gentle that even his voice softened, as if afraid of disturbing something fragile.
“Xu Wanzhi?”
A barely audible response came from behind him.
Lin Jing remained still, his hand on the glass, gazing at the reflection in front of him, lost in thought.
…The faint blue light, the quiet world, the darkness, the glass.
His brows knitted together slightly, but just as his gaze dropped, Lin Jing suddenly froze—then, almost instantly, his frown disappeared.
His voice was filled with delight. “Wait, look at what I just found!”
At the very bottom, nestled among a patch of yellow sea anemones, lay a dark, sluggish little creature. Its shell was marked with red circles and crosses, its antennae swaying lazily as it shifted slightly.
It hadn’t changed much—still slow, still dull—but Lin Jing recognized it instantly.
The trilobite he had marked before. After countless millennia, he had actually found it again.
Unable to suppress his amusement, Lin Jing laughed. “Impressive. No doubt, this is my chosen son—the chosen bug of destiny. I need to capture this moment.”
He had already taken plenty of trilobite photos before, but in the end, he couldn’t resist taking one more. Crouching down, he carefully framed the shot, capturing it from every angle, giving it a full photoshoot.
Only when the trilobite turned away in mild annoyance did he finally stop.
It had endured the entire Paleozoic era, and it was also the first creature he recognized upon entering the game. From the Cambrian to the Permian, spanning billions of years, from the very beginning to the end—how fitting.
Lin Jing straightened up, pressing his hand against the glass, and turned around—only to meet Xu Wanzhi’s deep, unreadable gaze.
Lin Jing, however, felt an inexplicable sense of exhilaration. Grinning, he finally asked, “Where were you just now?”
Xu Wanzhi smiled slightly. “Let’s walk and talk.”
Lin Jing blinked. “Hm?”
Xu Wanzhi: “We’re running out of time.”
Lin Jing glanced down at the timer on his wristband—only to be shocked.
After spending ages wandering the rainforest and exploring the cave, the number on his wristband had already reached 21.
So this sinkhole actually had an exit. On the other side of the glass wall, hidden behind the stalactites, was a path leading upward.
Lin Jing didn’t even ask how Xu Wanzhi got here. Maybe they just understood each other. From the moment Lin Jing smelled the salty sea breeze inside the cave, he had felt something was off. This sinkhole was originally meant to be his last destination—Elena had merely sped things up. Xu Wanzhi had probably thought the same.
As they walked, Lin Jing asked curiously, “What was the third mass extinction like?”
Xu Wanzhi replied, “Earth’s only large-scale extinction event. A series of volcanic eruptions wiped out 95% of all species.”
Lin Jing pondered. “That sounds even worse than the previous two.”
Xu Wanzhi seemed to chuckle softly. He stopped walking and handed Lin Jing something.
Lin Jing blinked and took it, feeling the texture in his hands. A photo.
“What’s this?”
Xu Wanzhi answered lightly, “Dunkleosteus.”
Lin Jing was stunned. “Dunkleosteus? Where the h*ll did you get a Dunkleosteus photo?”
Wait. He quickly realized. “You found Karl’s camera?”
Xu Wanzhi didn’t reply, but his silence was enough of an answer.
Lin Jing: “…”
Unbelievable.
A strange feeling welled up in his chest. Xu Wanzhi hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic toward him. Even his flirtations were laced with an almost casual indifference, like a game.
But holding that photo in his hands, Lin Jing found himself at a loss for words.
All he knew was that when this game ended, he had to meet Xu Wanzhi again. This friendship was set in stone.
After a long pause, Lin Jing finally joked, “If you let me slack off like this, how am I supposed to focus in the next game?”
Xu Wanzhi chuckled. “Then just stay by my side.”
Lin Jing: “Forget it.”
Honestly, he didn’t want to meet Xu Wanzhi in the next round. He liked him, sure—but a game was a game.
The path twisted upward. When they emerged from the cave, they were greeted by the sight of a massive golden ginkgo tree. The sky had darkened—it was already dusk.
Outside the cave, the guy in the black jacket had been waiting alone for ages. After taking a bunch of photos, he stood there, thoroughly bewildered and inexplicably lonely.
The wind swept up the yellowing ginkgo leaves on the ground. He felt like everything in the cave had been a dream, or perhaps, from the Carboniferous period onward, it had all been a dream.
The man in the floral shirt died in the sea. The short-haired girl took Karl away. The nearsighted guy got someone else killed and perished alongside Ke Lingxuan. Elena was out of the game, though no one knew exactly how.
When the ten of them first met in the submarine, tensions were already running high. Was that a sign of this inevitable outcome? That in the end, the one who survived was him—completely bewildered, having neither helped nor harmed anyone.
The guy in the black jacket scratched his head. Suddenly, a sound came from the cave entrance, jolting him upright. He looked ahead and saw Lin Jing and Xu Wanzhi slowly emerging from the cave. His dazed eyes lit up, and his entire being seemed to come back to life. He waved his arms frantically, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Here! Over here! Lin Jing! I’m here!”
Lin Jing heard him too. Bathed in the orange glow of the sunset, he looked toward his last remaining teammate.
When the volcano erupted, magma would scorch the earth, turning it into a fiery wasteland. Without access to the deep sea, staying atop a mountain might be the only way to outlast the game.
The path was overgrown with weeds. After passing through a dense pine and fir forest, they found a cave at the mountaintop. Ferns and wild grasses blanketed the entrance, with green roots and leaves hanging down from above. The cave was narrow, with a massive black rock covered in a thin layer of moss. Having just emerged from the confined darkness of the underground, the fresh air carried the scent of greenery, making it feel especially crisp and refreshing.
Leaning against the cave wall, the guy in the black jacket stared blankly at the mountain range outside, still processing the events of the day. With a sigh, he said, “I can’t believe my luck. I did absolutely nothing and still ended up as one of the last survivors. Who’d believe that?”
Lin Jing rubbed his temples.
The black-jacketed guy, having held back for so long, finally let out everything in a rush: “I never expected them to turn on each other like that. This wasn’t some high-stakes game worth thousands of points, where cutthroat strategies might make sense. This was just a mid-level match—was it really necessary to abandon all morality?”
Lin Jing murmured, “Yeah.” In his last match, Feng Haozhong had disliked him but had never actually tried to harm him—just gossiped behind his back.
But this time, everyone seemed twisted in a way that was almost terrifying.
The guy in the black jacket said, “Good thing I’ve got a solid moral compass. Otherwise, who knows if I’d have been dragged down with them.”
Something flickered in Lin Jing’s mind at those words. He instinctively looked toward Xu Wanzhi.
Could Survivor’s matchmaking system be controlled behind the scenes?
Xu Wanzhi was toying with the camera, his expression lazy and unreadable.
Only the black-jacketed guy kept talking: “At least you guys stuck with me till the end. If I’d had to wait for the Third Mass Extinction alone, that would’ve been unbearable.”
Lin Jing was still lost in thought and absentmindedly replied, “No problem.”
When the countdown on their wristbands hit zero, the sky darkened completely before instantly shifting back to daylight. From their vantage point on the mountaintop, they could feel the ground trembling beneath them. The tectonic plates, having reached their breaking point, finally gave way. Molten lava surged beneath the mantle.
With a thunderous roar, a volcano erupted in the distance.
Blood-red magma spewed from the crater, cascading down the mountainside, consuming forests and all living things in its path. The air was filled with the deafening cries of struggling creatures—screams of agony, the sounds of h*ll itself.
From their high perch, they could even see the ocean churning violently.
The world outside was in utter chaos, yet the cave remained eerily quiet.
The guy in the black jacket muttered, “Feels like we’re about to turn into literal cavemen—” Then suddenly, his eyes widened. “Holy cr*p! I hear KK’s voice! Is the game finally over?!”
KK’s voice only played when entering or leaving a game.
Though he had coasted his way to victory, the black-jacketed guy was beyond excited. “I gotta see how many points I racked up this time!” His wristband began to dissolve into stardust, his body turning translucent as he sat atop the massive rock. Covered in piercings—earrings, a nose ring, a lip ring—he always carried himself with rebellious swagger. Yet now, he grinned like a fool, waving at them. “See you around.”
Lin Jing replied, “See you around.”
He hadn’t heard KK’s voice himself, meaning his results were still being processed.
Outside, volcanoes continued to erupt one after another. Thick clouds of smoke billowed across the sky, while lava poured into the ocean, killing countless fish. Their lifeless bodies floated en masse, transforming the sea into a graveyard. Black storm clouds loomed ominously, and after the lava came the acid rain, seeping into the mountainside, corroding the remaining pine trees. Raindrops trickled down from the cave’s entrance.
In this final moment, Lin Jing suddenly recalled a conversation from that night.
“I’ve been wondering… why do you look after me so much?”
“Because I owe you.”
He parted his lips, hesitated, then asked, “Uh… can you explain exactly what you owe me?”
Xu Wanzhi’s gaze shifted from the camera to Lin Jing’s face. But instead of answering, he smiled softly and asked an entirely unrelated question: “Did you enjoy this game?”
Lin Jing was caught off guard. “En… enjoy? Yeah, I guess.”
Honestly, coasting through a game was pretty fun.
Xu Wanzhi hummed in response.
The acid rain outside was pitch-black, but inside the cave, the greenery remained vibrant. The storm raged beyond, yet here, they were sheltered from the world.
Lin Jing looked at Xu Wanzhi, and suddenly, a spark of realization struck him. He momentarily set aside his unanswered question.
“Don’t move.”
Xu Wanzhi raised an eyebrow.
Lin Jing lifted his camera, aimed it at him, and snapped a picture.
The dim lighting, the fading daylight, the moss-covered stone—but in the photo, the person in focus seemed to radiate light.
Lin Jing, who had been so adamant about not taking photos in the underwater world, now felt utterly hypocritical. Awkwardly, he covered up his embarrassment. “I mean… uh, the plants in this cave are growing really well.”
Xu Wanzhi couldn’t hold back his laughter. He leaned against the mossy stone wall and said, “I lied to you.”
Lin Jing, still holding the photo, blinked. “Huh? Lied about what?”
Xu Wanzhi’s smile faded slightly, and his eyes held a trace of something unreadable.
“I never owed you anything.”
Lin Jing was stunned. “Then why—” Why did you take care of me so much?
Xu Wanzhi’s gaze darkened with something almost like confusion. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, “Why? …Maybe because I like you.”
Lin Jing: “……” D*mn it, explain to me—what do you mean by ‘maybe it’s liking’?!
Xu Wanzhi said, “Maybe this isn’t the right word, but if you just want to make someone happy, what other word comes closer than ‘liking’?”
His eyes carried a smile as he looked at Lin Jing, half teasing, half genuinely curious.
Lin Jing: “…….”
Xu Wanzhi tilted his head, gazing out the window. “The Triassic period is coming.”
His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and the corners of his lips carried a faint smile.
After the acid rain came the frozen continents. Once the catastrophe passed, the ice would melt, and snow would thaw.
Lin Jing followed his gaze outward.
The land was now a vast desert, the earth cracked and dry. The scorching sun baked the planet, sending waves of heat rippling through the air.
Barren land could no longer sustain fragile life. But in the billions of years that made up Earth’s history, this moment was just a blink of an eye.
“You can go out and give me your answer.”
Xu Wanzhi said softly.
When Lin Jing turned back, the person in front of him had already disappeared.
Boom—at that moment, thunder rumbled across the sky. Earth’s greatest climatic event, the Carnian Pluvial Episode, arrived right on schedule.
It came down in a torrential downpour, grand and overwhelming, as if washing away everything of the old world to usher in a new era. The rain drove away the heat, filling the air with a cool freshness. Large raindrops splashed onto the ground, and water droplets landed on the back of Lin Jing’s hand.
At last, Lin Jing glanced down at the photograph in his hand.
The printed image… was completely blank.
From the dawn of the Cambrian to the end of the Permian, from the ocean to the land, these three hundred million years of countless seascapes—somehow, it felt like he had walked through them all alone.
The antique codex, the old dreams, vanished in the blink of an eye.
![The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]](https://i1.wp.com/lazygirltranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/unnamed-5.jpg?resize=151,215 "The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]")
