Chapter Ten: Dongfeng Town

Thirty miles from the outskirts of Meng City in Qingshan Province lay a small town named Dongfeng. In the past, it had been one of the three most important towns supporting Meng City, accounting for a fifth of the city’s economy and renowned throughout the province as a model area for traditional medicinal herb cultivation. But now, all its former prosperity was lost. Ever since a spatial rift appeared in northern Qingshan—becoming one of the ten major fixed rifts connecting to other realms within China—the entire province had been swept into disaster. Even the troops dispatched to protect the evacuation of citizens suffered heavy losses, countless evacuees perished en route, and Qingshan was transformed into a world of catastrophe.

No one had imagined disaster would strike so swiftly. It had been only three months since the rift had appeared. Swarms of spider-like monsters erupted from it, overrunning the land. People who had once worried about their future were, in the blink of an eye, reduced to fodder for these creatures. Government collapsed, order crumbled, hope faded, and the world as they knew it fell apart in an instant.

It was the height of summer noon, yet the sky was shrouded in a faint gray mist rather than sunlight. The town, now desolate and dilapidated, exuded a stifling sense of oppression. Not a soul remained; at least, there were no traces of human activity on the surface. Whether the residents had left with the evacuation convoys or become food for monsters from another world, it was impossible to tell. Not only humans, but all signs of animal life had vanished as well.

In contrast, the town’s plants thrived, some of them undergoing strange and inexplicable changes that defied human understanding.

At that moment, ripples shimmered in the air before the gate of an elementary school. Gradually, a small spiral vortex took shape, and from it emerged a vague black silhouette.

At first, the shadow was indistinct, but as the vortex intensified, its outline became clearer, finally coalescing into the form of a human.

With a soft, almost inaudible “pop,” the vortex convulsed, and a figure was vomited forth, stumbling to the ground.

That figure was Shen Lie.

At this moment, Shen Lie was in an utterly wretched state—his clothes had vanished, his hair was ragged as if chewed by a dog, and his body was covered in wounds and blood. He rolled on the ground for a while before getting up, and his first action was to hold a black metallic object across his chest, assuming a defensive stance.

This black metal object, resembling a short spear, had been invaluable to him in the other world. It was not only exceptionally resilient but also seemed nearly indestructible—clearly no ordinary item.

“Is this… Earth?” he muttered.

Then, as he calmed himself and caught sight of the black plaque above the school gate—Dongfeng First Elementary School—he could not help but burst into wild, cathartic laughter. “Ha! Ha ha! I’m out—I’m finally out!”

The past months had been the most extraordinary of Shen Lie’s life, filled with experiences he had never dared to imagine. After escaping from that underground hall, he thought he would have to continue evading the terrifying giant insect, but it was already gone. Thus, he managed to slip through the spatial rift without further incident.

But once he had emerged, he realized that the true danger lay outside that golden hall—back in the world he had originally entered from his own bathroom. At first, nothing seemed amiss, but as he left the rift in search of food, water, and a way back to Earth, he faced numerous life-and-death crises. Fortunately, his body had been imbued with inhuman strength for some unknown reason, his speed and senses sharpened remarkably, and with a bit of luck, he survived. When driven to desperation by a pack of more than ten spider monsters, he stumbled upon a mobile, hidden micro-rift—the very same kind that had brought him in—and emerged here.

He took a deep breath of the long-missed, pure air, calming his pounding heart. Though Earth was hardly safe, it was still better than a world crawling with monsters. He estimated that no more than three months had passed since he left Earth. No matter how dire humanity’s situation, they should still hold the dominant hand. The spider monsters were formidable, but not invincible, and the giant insect-like creatures were exceedingly rare. In all his time, he had only ever seen one.

After steadying himself, Shen Lie lowered his guard and surveyed his surroundings. This was an ordinary street, and judging by the architecture and the plaque above the school, it was a small town. But the name “Dongfeng” was unfamiliar; it did not match any township near his home city of Songling.

He glanced back at the spot in midair where he’d emerged. The small vortex had already disappeared. Shen Lie didn’t know what distinguished these hidden vortexes from the officially documented major rifts. In all his time in the other world, he had encountered only this one, and he even suspected it was the same as the one that had first appeared in his bathroom, as it seemed capable of moving about. He’d had to chase it for some time before he could slip through.

He casually tossed aside a white block in his other hand, then thought better of it and picked it up again. This white object was a kind of underground plant from the other world—if it could be called a plant. It grew entirely beneath the surface, with only a gray stalk poking aboveground, lacking leaves or flowers, and easily missed unless one looked closely.

It looked clean and white, but its taste was unbearably sour and astringent, with a nauseating aftertaste. Still, it was the only edible thing he had found in that world, and he’d dubbed it the “big white root.” If he hadn’t discovered it by chance, he would have died of hunger and thirst; no amount of strength could have saved him.

Almost by reflex, he tried to slip the big white root into his pocket, only to realize he was practically naked. His legs tensed with embarrassment. In the other world, facing nothing but spider monsters, this didn’t matter. Now that he was back on Earth, he couldn’t be seen like this. His reputation would be ruined; he needed clothing urgently.

Seeing no one about, Shen Lie hurried behind a roadside tree. He didn’t know what species it was, but its leaves were huge. He reached for one to cover himself until he could find proper clothes.

But as he grasped the leaf, he let out a startled sound. He couldn’t tear it off! Since his transformation, his strength had grown so much that even a world-class boxing champion would be no match for him—yet now he couldn’t even pluck a leaf? That was absurd.

He examined the tree more carefully and, to his surprise, realized it was an ordinary elm. “Has it mutated?” he wondered, frowning as he circled the tree. Having experienced the other world, he was no longer astonished by such things. He reached out again, his palm shimmering faintly with gold, and this time, with a forceful yank, he tore off a leaf.

Now the branch quivered as if in pain—a sight that made Shen Lie grimace.

Clearly, Earth was no longer the world he remembered. Sighing, he plucked more leaves, twisted them into a makeshift skirt, and tied it around his waist.

With his modesty covered, Shen Lie crossed the street and ducked into a random storefront. It was a grocery shop. After months of nothing but big white roots, he craved real flavors. The door was ajar; he stepped inside, but after searching the place, found no food or drink—no bottled water, no soda, not even beer. At the entrance, though, he found a large dried patch of blood—a silent testament to some past tragedy.

He should have felt disappointed, but instead he was heartened: the shop was otherwise intact, only the food and drink had been thoroughly cleaned out. This meant there were likely survivors somewhere in the town—a hopeful sign for someone so in the dark about current events.

Shen Lie left the shop and continued on, soon finding a clothing store. Inside was chaos: garments strewn everywhere, half-packed plastic bags, and blood spattered about. He had no interest in what had transpired—he simply selected two fitting outfits, changed out of his leafy skirt, and went back outside.

He searched several more shops—a small supermarket, a fruit shop, a restaurant—and finally found some food and a few bottles of beer hidden away. He ate his fill, packed the rest into a backpack, and slung it over his shoulder.

Once sated, Shen Lie began wandering the streets, entering every house he passed. After several fruitless searches for people, he began shouting openly in the street.

“Is anyone there?”

“Hello? Anyone here?”

No answer came. Instead, from across the street, a sharp, shrill screech pierced the air. Shen Lie tensed instantly, darting into the nearest building. Still uneasy, he dashed up the stairs to the second floor and peered anxiously out the window.

He knew that piercing screech all too well—after so many days in the other world, he had heard it almost daily. It was the cry of the spider monsters.