The system finally responded, its voice devoid of any emotion.
[If the task is not completed within the ti fra, all system functions will cease indefinitely.]
Qingran stiffened.
It wasn’t just refusing to help—it was threatening her.
If she failed this mission, the system would shut down. No more notifications. No more advantages. No more second chances.
She would be on her own.
Her mind raced.
The past lab archive—she had never heard of it. Was it related to the virus? Or that "thing" roaming around? Was it related to the governnt? Would it give her the answers she was looking for?
She had so many questions and the system was treating it as critical.
That ant one thing.
There was sothing inside that archive.
Sothing dangerous.
Sothing that the system itself was desperate to recover.
Qingran exhaled slowly, forcing her emotions into check. "Where is it?"
The system hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding.
[Unknown. Coordinates must be located manually.]
A humorless laugh nearly escaped her lips. Of course. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
"Lingquan, you have to give a goddamn clue or sothing," she snarled, her voice a harsh whisper in her mind. "Don’t fucking throw into an open fire like that!"
The system remained silent.
Her pulse hamred against her ribs.
Then, at last—
[Ding! System Override Initiated.]
A sharp, static-filled crackle echoed in her mind, followed by a voice that wasn’t the usual cold, chanical monotone.
It was distorted, lower, almost even human.
[You shouldn’t have asked, Qingran.]
Her breath hitched.
The system had never called her by na before.
A shiver ran down her spine, but she gritted her teeth. "I don’t have ti for cryptic bullshit, Lingquan. If you want to find this damn archive, give sothing to work with!"
Silence.
Then—
[Xi’an.]
Qingran’s mind blanked for a second.
"Xi’an?" she echoed, frowning.
Why did that na—
And then, it hit her.
The capital city. That was the archive location? That place of all places?
In her past life, Xi’an had been one of the first major cities to collapse when the apocalypse spread. It had been reduced to nothing but a wasteland within days.
Her fingers curled into fists, each task was bringing her back to places she didn’t want to tread again.
"The archive is in Xi’an, isn’t it?" she muttered.
The system hesitated.
Then, it said one last ti before going quiet
[72 hours, Qingran. If you fail, I disappear.]
Qingran exhaled sharply forcing herself to stay calm.
"I’m leaving," she said, turning toward the door.
Dr. Han stiffened. "What?"
"The virus is still in containnt. Your own security logs confirm it. There was no breach, no unauthorized access. Whatever that was—" she gestured at the frozen security footage of the shifting, unidentifiable shape inside the chamber, "—it has nothing to do with ."
Director Li’s gaze sharpened. "Dr. Gu, this is an active investigation. You can’t just walk away."
Qingran let out a quiet laugh, cold and devoid of amusent. "Then detain ."
Silence fell over the room.
They couldn’t.
There was no evidence against her. The virus was exactly where it had always been. If they tried to hold her now, it would be an unlawful detainnt, and they all knew it.
She let the tension hang in the air for a mont before turning back toward the exit.
No one moved to stop her.
But she could feel their eyes on her, their suspicion heavy in the air.
They were afraid.
And if they were afraid of her, it ant one thing—
Sothing far worse than the virus had just awakened.
The ride back to the research facility was tense, but no one stopped her. No one even questioned her further. They only had her sign the confidentiality agreent—a standard warning to keep her mouth shut. Not that she needed the reminder. Whatever was happening inside Lab 37 was bigger than just her, and they knew it too.
As soon as she was let go, she walked straight to her car, gripping the wheel as soon as she slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t drive ho. Instead, she followed the route ingrained in her mory, letting instinct take over until she reached the only place where she could think.
A small viewpoint just outside the city. Quiet. Isolated. A place she had claid as her own long before the apocalypse ever happened.
She parked, turned off the engine, and leaned back against the seat, forcing herself to breathe.
Everything was unraveling faster than she expected.
She knew the world was ending in 23 days. She had accepted that. She had prepared for that. But what she hadn’t accounted for was this—an anomaly she had never encountered before.
Her virus had not been touched. It was still inside Lab 37, secured within its containnt unit. That was a fact.
So then what the hell had they seen on the security footage?
What was the thing that had flickered in and out of existence?
And more importantly... why had the system gone silent the mont she asked for answers?
Qingran gritted her teeth, pressing her palms against her face.
She had survived the apocalypse once. She had lived through hell and clawed her way back, only to find herself standing at the edge of it once again.
She wasn’t trying to stop it. She never had.
But if sothing had changed—if sothing was evolving beyond her knowledge—then she needed to figure out where she stood in all of this.
Because surviving wasn’t just about preparation.
It was about knowing the rules of the ga.
And right now, sothing was telling her that the rules had just changed.
Qingran exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t have ti for cryptic warnings. She needed answers. Now.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus inward.
"Lingquan."
Silence.
"Lingquan, don’t play dead on ."
More silence.
Her patience snapped.
"Lingquan, you f**king a$$hole."
The system remained quiet for a mont longer—long enough that she almost thought it wouldn’t answer at all. Then, finally, a dull chi echoed in her mind.
[System Online.]
Qingran’s nails dug into her palm.
Now you respond?
She inhaled sharply, pushing down her irritation. "Status report. What’s my balance? How much ti do I have left before the apocalypse? How far have I gotten in stockpiling?"
A brief pause. Then—
[Balance: 1.3 million yuan.]
[Countdown: 23 Days Remaining.]
[Stockpiling Progress: 67%.]
Her eyes narrowed. That was lower than she wanted. She had assud she was at least past 70%.
Then again she hasn’t gotten any dical equipnts, once she got those she would more than done with stockpiling.
"Explain why you refused to talk to earlier," she demanded. "And don’t tell it was a system error."
Another pause. Qingran tapped against the steering wheel waiting for answers.
[Task issued was categorized as High-Risk. The system does not interfere during High-Risk assignnts unless intervention is deed necessary.]
Qingran scowled. "So you throw into a life-threatening situation and decide to just shut up?"
[The task was within host’s capabilities.]
"Oh, really? Because last I checked, you handed a mission with zero context, then went radio silent while I was being interrogated by governnt officials."
[Host successfully completed the task. Did you not?.]
Qingran let out a humorless laugh. "Barely."
[Ding! But you did it anyways]
Her pulse was still uneven, adrenaline still thrumming under her skin. She could have been detained, interrogated further—hell, she could have been accused of being the one who had created that unknown variable.
And what had Lingquan done?
Nothing. She guessed it wasn’t the system’s job to help 24/7.
She forced herself to refocus. "Fine. Then tell —why the hell did you give such a dangerous task?"
A beat of silence. Then—
[Because the anomaly was never ant to exist.]
Qingran’s breath hitched. "What?"
[The anomaly is not recorded in the original tiline. It is an external variable.]
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "aning?"
[aning sothing has changed.]
Qingran sat completely still, processing.
She had known sothing was wrong. Had felt it the mont she saw that security footage.
But if the system itself was telling her that the anomaly wasn’t supposed to exist—
Then that ant this wasn’t just a deviation.
This was a completely new factor.
Sothing that hadn’t been there before.
Sothing she had never encountered in her past life.
She swallowed hard. "And what exactly am I supposed to do about it?"
[New Mission Available.]
A chi. Then a new notification appeared.
[Task: Investigate the Anomaly.]
[Reward: ???]
[Penalty for Failure: Unknown.]
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