It was now the second week since the game descended upon humanity.
Some people wept bitterly, cursing their misfortune. Others staked everything on survival, clawing their way through the instances. They either lived on with difficulty—or died in despair. Every single person was trying their best to adapt to this new life.
Human beings were nothing if not resilient. And only through that resilience could they survive now.
After moving in, Fu Changxun had wanted Xiao Xiao to take the master bedroom. But she refused, firmly.
“I don’t want it. Won’t it be too cramped if both of you squeeze into the small room?”
She asked seriously, “Or do you two sleep all snuggled up?”
Fu Changxun: “…”
His ears turned red. “No, no we don’t.”
Dong Zi, on the other hand, didn’t deny it. “But that bedroom really is small.”
Xiao Xiao remained adamant. “That’s exactly why I like it! You two take the master. Go on, go on!”
“Are you sure you don’t need help tidying your room…” Fu Changxun started, but was cut off halfway as she physically pushed him out the door.
“I’m sure,” Xiao Xiao replied. “I’m a grown-up now. I can do it!”
She quickly spread the bedsheets, organized her belongings, and arranged everything herself.
The ever-anxious Doctor Fu could only stand outside the door, exchanging a glance with Dong Zi. After a moment of silence, they both let out a long, weary sigh—like two helpless old dads.
Since she didn’t need help, Fu Changxun went to make dinner and poured some kibble for the black cat.
Though only a single day had passed in the real world, they had spent seven days and nights in the instance. The exhaustion and hunger were very real. After eating together, the three of them returned to their rooms to rest.
Xiao Xiao, still young, couldn’t stay up long. She laid down for just a while before falling fast asleep.
Next door in the master bedroom, Fu Changxun and Dong Zi lay stiffly side by side.
“Um, Ah-Zi… you asleep?”
They’d shared a bed before, but Fu Changxun still felt awkward.
Dong Zi turned to face him. “No. Can’t sleep? Should I get up and take the floor—?”
“No, no!” Fu Changxun cut him off quickly. “The bed’s wide enough for both of us. I just… I’m not used to it, that’s all. I’ve always lived alone.”
Dong Zi gave a casual “Mm” and lay back down. “It’s okay, Ah-Xun. You’ll get used to it.”
Fu Changxun: “…”
He’d expected to toss and turn all night. But the moment he finished talking to Dong Zi and turned over, his head hit the pillow—and he fell straight into deep sleep.
Dong Zi, however, stared at his sleeping face, wide awake. The pounding in his chest didn’t settle even once.
***
The next morning.
Xiao Xiao was woken by the smell of food. Rubbing her eyes, she padded out of her room—only to find her Doctor-gege and Dong Zi sitting on the couch, stuffing their faces with massive amounts of takeout. Trying to hide it from her.
She was instantly offended. “What are you two doing?”
Fu Changxun froze mid-bite, a chicken wing still in his mouth. He looked up guiltily. “Xiao Xiao, I noticed the delivery app still works and… couldn’t resist ordering a bit…”
“Wow. Eating in secret and not even inviting me,” Xiao Xiao said coolly.
“We’re sorry. We were wrong,” Dong Zi said crisply. “Want some?”
Xiao Xiao: “…Yes!”
Even now, the food industry hadn’t shut down. Delivery and logistics were still up and running.
Well, it’s the end of the world—but you still have to make a living.
Fu Changxun casually flipped on the TV for some news, and immediately caught a familiar announcement.
“Please call 11111 to reach the Office of Special Affairs. We will assist you with any issues related to the Low-Dimensional Selection game. Be sure to inform your children and parents…”
“Repeating once again: if you encounter difficulties related to the game, please call 11111…”
Fu Changxun couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “The Special Affairs Office has a dedicated hotline now? Director Qiu moves fast.”
Dong Zi handed him a tissue. “Wipe your mouth—of course they do. The government has to get them up and running as quickly as possible. Honestly, Huaxia’s handling things a lot better than other nations. Their response was way too slow, and now things are a mess. As of now, they’ve already suffered over a dozen terrorist attacks.”
“Damn, that bad? When’d you watch international news?”
“When you were ordering takeout.”
The two bantered back and forth while little Xu Xiao looked left and right, completely unable to get a word in. Frustrated, she just ate both chicken legs by herself.
Fu Changxun’s psychology clinic had been closed for over ten days, and he hadn’t updated his friend circle either. Several patients and their families had already assumed he’d died in the game.
He figured if this went on a few more days, even the landlord would be calling.
As it happened, Dong Zi needed to request leave from work, and Xu Xiao had to go to school. She was still a fifth-grader, and since the school hadn’t officially notified anything, it didn’t count as a holiday.
More importantly, Xu Xiao was exempt from being pulled into an instance for the next thirty days. In a twisted way, she was actually safer than most.
Yep—even in the apocalypse, kids still had to go to school.
So after breakfast, Dong Zi drove both of them out—dropping Xu Xiao off at school, then Fu Changxun.
There seemed to be more people on the streets than usual. A scruffy, unshaven man stood in the middle of the road.
“The end! It’s the end of the world!” The man shouted madly, “It’s here! No one’s gonna survive!”
He staggered and stumbled with every step, bumping into passersby every so often. Most gave him a wide berth, wary and unwilling to intervene.
“Is he crazy?”
“Not sure. Maybe he lost a loved one in the game and broke down.”
“Sigh… my neighbor’s daughter got pulled into the game and never came out. Her mom’s basically like this now too.”
“That’s so tragic…”
The crowd murmured quietly, but no one dared step forward. Before long, someone dialed “11111” to contact the Special Affairs Office. Within minutes, several individuals appeared wearing wristbands—tools from the Game Shop—and forcibly took the man away.
The wristband was a basic item from the in-game store, capable of holding a card the size of a playing card. Its functionality was simple and thus cheap—only 1 point.
Members of the Special Affairs Office used them to carry identification—both for convenience and visibility.
Their car rolled to a stop at a red light.
Among the Special Affairs personnel, Fu Changxun spotted a familiar face. He hesitated, but ultimately said nothing to Dong Zi and didn’t get out of the car to greet them.
But even though he didn’t move, the other party had already spotted him. Without hesitation, they strode over and bent down to knock on the car window.
“Mr. Fu? Mr. Dong?”
Fu Changxun rolled down the window with a sigh, only to see Qiu Yi flashing a cheerful grin.
“You went into another instance yesterday, didn’t you? I saw you ranked second on the Points Leaderboard.”
Fu Changxun hadn’t even replied before the light turned green.
Dong Zi gave a quick honk and pulled the car over to the curb, signaling Fu Changxun to step out and talk.
“Yeah, just got out recently. Director Qiu, you busy?”
Of course he was—that was obvious to anyone. Fu Changxun was just making polite conversation.
But Qiu Yi actually started talking. “Yeah. The number of selected players is still rising. Out of Huaxia’s population of over a billion, six million have already been pulled into the game. And… nearly half haven’t made it back. Most of them died in battle royale instances…”
“Ahem,” Dong Zi interjected stiffly. “We’d rather not hear the details, Director Qiu. I still need to drop the kid off at school.”
Only then did Qiu Yi notice the little girl sitting in the backseat, staring at him with wide eyes.
His mind blanked for a second, and he blurted out, “Oh, is she the little girl who was in the instance with you guys?”
“Hold up.”
Fu Changxun’s expression didn’t change, but his tone sharpened. “How do you know that?”
Qiu Yi blinked. “I watched the livestream—”
“We used [Concealment Blocker]. How the hell did you recognize us or see our stream?”
“…”
Shit. His brain had slipped.
Did he just out himself? Was he going to get chewed out by his coworkers later?
Seeing the wariness returning to Fu Changxun’s eyes, Director Qiu was at a loss for words.
He was like someone who’d just swallowed a bitter pill—miserable but speechless. With an awkward laugh, he said, “It was one of our team members’ abilities. Combined with mine, it let us identify people using blockers. I swear, we weren’t actively tracking you.”
Fu Changxun’s expression eased slightly, but he was still wary. “Your teammate’s ability?”
“It’s… x-ray vision.”
Qiu Yi lowered his voice, as if the ability itself was a bit shady.
“But not the pervy kind! It doesn’t see through clothes or anything. It reveals deception—lets you see someone’s true appearance through concealment,” he clarified quickly. “That’s all it does.”
“Wait, then your ability is…” Dong Zi trailed off. “Is it something you can talk about?”
Qiu Yi scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Ahem. Prophecy. But it only ever works when it’s bad news. The good stuff never comes true.”
Xu Xiao blurted out, “So you’re a jinx?”
Fu Changxun immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. “Kids say the darndest things. Don’t mind her, Director Qiu.”
Though he probably forgot that Dong Zi had described him the exact same way once. Dong Zi, hearing the line again, gave Xu Xiao a strange look. For some reason, he almost laughed.
Qiu Yi just waved it off. “She’s not wrong. I really am a jinx.” He sighed. “I just randomly picked a stream to watch and figured, what are the odds I’d know someone? Then bam—he takes one look and says, ‘Hey, I know those two.’”
He turned and waved to the group of team members, calling someone over—exactly the same staffer Fu Changxun had recognized the day before.
“This is him. Xiao Song.”
One had x-ray vision, another was a jinx—what was it with the Special Affairs Office and all these weird-ass abilities?
Fu Changxun was still spacing out, so Dong Zi naturally stepped forward to take over introductions. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dong Zi.”
Xiao Song, a former soldier, considered himself pretty tough and imposing—until he met Dong Zi. Just standing in front of him, he felt a little unnerved. His voice came out a bit weaker than intended: “Nice to meet you too. I’m Song Zhenpeng, but you can call me Xiao Song.”
Behind Dong Zi, Fu Changxun gave a small nod in greeting without extending a hand. “You probably already know my name.”
Xiao Song perked up. “Of course! Dr. Fu Changxun.”
He gave a sheepish, honest grin. From the backseat, Xu Xiao poked her head out, curious to get a better look at the grown-ups.
“Oh crap, I almost forgot. Xu Xiao still needs to get to school.” Fu Changxun scooped her back into the car and turned to Dong Zi in a hurry. “Let’s go, it’s already 7:50—we’re gonna be late!”
Just as the car was about to start moving, Qiu Yi clung to the window and blurted out, “Wait—give me your number—!”
