Chapter 1: Thicket Village (Part 1)

In the year 2513 of the Star Calendar, on an ordinary day, the first drop of Temporal Rain fell to the ground as a blood-red moon hung high in the sky.

Black fog surged from nowhere, enveloping the entirety of A City in an instant. All vegetation in the city center withered away completely.

The black fog formed a massive ring, expanding step by step until it swallowed the entire city in the blink of an eye.

Just three seconds later, the black fog receded like the tide, leaving behind the once-prosperous A City as a ruined wasteland.

After the black fog passed, human technological civilization lay in ruins. Skyscrapers were reduced to crumbling walls and remnants, countless desiccated corpses dangling from them, swaying eerily with the howling wind.

In a mere three seconds, a first-tier city vanished before everyone’s eyes. The event quickly spread, shocking the entire nation.

Television reporters, eager for firsthand news, hauled their cameras and interviewed the sole survivor beneath the vanished A City with a mix of terror and excitement.

News media swarmed in, crowding around the shattered city center.

The man surrounded by the media stood atop the rubble, raising a hand to block the camera shoved in his face.

He wore an ordinary black jacket, a cigarette pinched between his fingertips, his face weary. Smudges of black ash from the disaster streaked his features, giving him a disheveled look. His face was indistinct under the grime, but his eyes shone with startling intensity—brimming with raw vitality and feral wildness, like a wolf hunting on the grasslands.

The half-smoked cigarette burned down to the end in his fingers, the overburdened ash falling as if to scorch his palm.

He seemed utterly oblivious to the pain, brushing the ash from his hand. A fleeting bewilderment flickered in his wolf-like sharp eyes, as if he were still processing everything that had just happened.

The reporters’ relentless questions faded from his mind as he lowered his hand from the lens. The blood-red moon loomed overhead, casting its crimson light, with lingering wisps of black fog behind him.

He stared into the camera and said, word by word, “The Weirds have descended… the apocalypse has arrived.”

*

Sunlight pierced the dim cave, and damp mist seeped in.

The cave stood empty, save for a moldy, rotting straw mat piled in the corner, a half-worn broken bowl, and a blanket swarmed by flies—clear signs it had once been a vagrant’s shelter.

Nothing unusual, except for the blood-red coffin lying squarely in the center, exuding an indescribable eeriness.

The coffin gleamed with a fresh-blood-like scarlet hue, sealed tightly by a ring of vermilion talismans drawn in cinnabar, which only heightened its grotesque aura.

The white-robed youth perched atop the eerie red coffin suddenly opened his eyes.

A flash of gold streaked through his pupils before vanishing.

After waking three days prior, Yun Xueqing had meditated and cultivated daily, but his true qi remained stagnant and blocked, unable to flow through his body. He had grown accustomed to it.

The area outside the cave lay barren and desolate, with even the vegetation withered away, leaving only desolation. The Ethereal Peak that should have stood opposite had long been razed to the ground.

After the Huai Deer Battle, Yun Xueqing had no idea what had transpired.

He casually snapped off a slender dry twig and examined it for a long while.

Since awakening in the cave, he had discovered one thing—his Natal Sword, Tianquan, was missing.

He didn’t know who had taken it.

But no matter who it was, he would find his sword.

He traversed a barren plain, pushing through vast thickets of wild brush. Branches snagged his wide sleeves, and he paused, about to part them.

Then a voice called out, “Brother, don’t go any further! There’s a B-Rank Weird Domain half a kilometer ahead!”

The Weird inside a B-Rank Weird Domain could effortlessly slaughter hundreds of ordinary people with a single gesture!

How dare this guy stroll so casually toward it!

Yun Xueqing looked in surprise at the “branch” that was shorter and swaying lightly.

“Oracle: Curse Break.”

Yun Xueqing watched as the “branch” chanted unfamiliar words. It gradually grew taller and thicker, morphing into humanoid form, finally sprouting a human face.

Yun Xueqing stepped back, eyeing the sudden newcomer warily.

The man’s attire was downright bizarre—his hair was cropped unusually short, and his chest was half-bared, nothing like a proper person.

Sensing the gaze, the “improper” man tugged at his tattered beach shorts, chuckled sheepishly, scratched his head, and reminded, “Brother, danger ahead. Don’t go any further.”

Yun Xueqing tried his best to ignore the outfit and asked, “What did you mean earlier by ‘Weird Domain’?”

The man widened his eyes in shock. “Brother, did you come from outer space? It’s the second year of the apocalypse, and you don’t know what a Weird Domain is!”

Before the other’s expression soured, the man chuckled again and explained, “A Weird Domain is a realm formed by a Weird. Anyway, just don’t go forward. Looking at how dazed you are, you’re probably just an ordinary guy with no special talents, right?”

Seeing Yun Xueqing say nothing, the man nodded to himself. “Since you’re an ordinary person, as an Oracle, it’s my duty to escort you to a Safe Zone. Follow me.”

Yun Xueqing lowered his gaze and asked, “May I have your name?”

“Names don’t matter much these days,” the man muttered softly. “If you insist, just call me San Zhi.”

As he spoke, he led the way forward.

Yun Xueqing sensed the aura on him and nodded, following behind San Zhi.

San Zhi walked ahead but kept glancing back worriedly to ensure Yun Xueqing kept up. He muttered, “You’re lucky you ran into me. If you’d met…”

Yun Xueqing didn’t catch the rest, but then San Zhi’s eyes lit up. “We’re here—the Safe Zone!”

The so-called Safe Zone was an area where Weirds had never descended or where the probability was extremely low.

Such places were rare and precious, with sky-high prices, mostly reserved for the upper crust of society.

Yun Xueqing followed his gaze.

San Zhi’s “exciting” Safe Zone was just a dilapidated building.

They hadn’t even entered yet, merely observing from afar on the outskirts.

The building wasn’t tall, only five stories, with windows packed closely together, indicating tiny rooms.

A few windows flickered with faint firelight. In the apocalyptic suburbs, with power cut off, people relied on open fires for cooking.

Yun Xueqing hadn’t expected housing to have changed so much after his long sleep. No more jade towers—instead, they crammed into square coffin-like boxes.

San Zhi said excitedly, “Come on, let’s go in. This is our occupied Safe Zone—not yet taken over by the Spiritual Energy Special Control Bureau. You’ve hit the jackpot, kid!”

He grabbed Yun Xueqing’s sleeve and headed toward the building.

Inside, the structure felt even more cramped, the hallway barely wide enough for two people abreast, oppressively stifling.

San Zhi trailed behind Yun Xueqing, his voice coming from the rear. “Things have been uneasy lately. A B-Rank Weird is about to descend, but we don’t know the exact spot. Stay in the Safe Zone and don’t wander.”

No sooner had his words landed than the corridor doors opened in unison, as if on cue.

A pair of twins blocked the doorway with their single body, only their heads poking out.

The slightly larger-headed brother grinned. “Big Brother San, picked up another newbie?”

The younger brother: “Wonder how much use this one’s gonna be.”

Their voices were eerily similar, hard to distinguish at first.

Yun Xueqing approached and realized the twins shared one body—only one pair of hands and feet, but two heads.

He withdrew his gaze, but a palpable malice bore into him from behind.

Turning, he saw the door behind him flung wide. A ragged, scrawny old man stood in the threshold, his talon-like hand gripping the frame.

Catching Yun Xueqing’s look, the old man cackled maliciously. “You’ll be dead soon.”

Yun Xueqing’s eyes flickered, his lips parting, but before he could speak, San Zhi cut in. “Old Zhang, don’t scare the newbie!”

Fearing the newcomer might bolt, San Zhi quickly reassured, “Old Zhang’s been off since his son got killed by a Weird. Don’t take his words seriously.”

He watched Yun Xueqing’s expression, confirming no suspicion, then said, “Your room’s at the far end of the hall. I’m right across from you—come find me if you need anything.”

He paused, adding, “There’s a Weird-exorcism activity at seven tonight, plus important stuff to discuss. Be there.”

Yun Xueqing nodded and pushed open his door.

The room was tiny, just a few square meters, barely fitting a bed—a classic coffin room.

Having lain in a real coffin for a millennium in the cave, Yun Xueqing didn’t mind the size. He sat on the bed, straightened his robes, and pulled a talisman paper from his wide sleeve.

He patted his sleeve again, but this time came up empty.

Wind battered the window outside, the aged frame creaking. He frowned, rose from the bed, and stepped out—not to knock on San Zhi’s door opposite, but the one next to it.

The door took ages to open, revealing an impatient face. “What the hell are you knocking for? What do you want?”

Yun Xueqing said calmly, “Could I borrow a pen?”

“Who the fuck carries a pen around these days? Nutjob!”

The occupant’s irritation peaked; he yanked his face back and slammed the door with a resounding bang that shook the neighboring wall.

Yun Xueqing obligingly knocked on the next door.

This time, a young man answered—not some hothead or cranky geezer.

The man’s face was wrapped in bandages, as was the hand opening the door, leaving only his eyes visible. Faint blood seeped through the white bandages, evidence of serious injuries.

Yet the man’s demeanor was relaxed; he leaned half his waist against the doorframe in a straight, dashing pose. “What can I do for you?”

His suave elegance clashed absurdly with the rundown building, making him seem off-kilter.

Perhaps no one in this building was normal.

The white-robed Yun Xueqing, with his waist-length hair, was equally out of place. He said evenly, “Fellow Daoist, could you lend me a pen?”

“A pen?” Fu Wuxuan smiled, pulled a ballpoint pen from his pocket, and handed it over. “No problem.”

Yun Xueqing hesitated as he took it. Before he could figure out the strange implement, the fully bandaged man asked, “Did someone trick you into coming here?”

Yun Xueqing furrowed his brow and murmured, “Isn’t this a Safe Zone?”

“That’s what he told you too?”

Fu Wuxuan grasped the situation from that alone.

“Friend, this isn’t a Safe Zone.” He stepped away from the door toward Yun Xueqing, lips curving in a casual smile. “It’s a Special Grade Weird Domain where an A-Rank Weird is about to descend.”