Shen Ge had gained a basic understanding of the system and its traits—though the idea of ordinary stray cats being classified as “terrifying anomalies” was absurd in itself.
Still, as long as the system kept handing out rewards, he was happy to play along with its delusional “anomaly housekeeping” game.
Of the three unlocked system modules—Attributes, Tasks, and Logs—the last seemed the most promising for clues.
Text scrolled across his vision like a holographic display:
[January 3, 2027: An Tier-8 anomaly emerged in Tokyo. Overnight, its expanding “Abyssal Domain” swallowed the entire city. Despite global efforts to suppress the truth, Tokyo’s fall became undeniable. The terrifying urban legends had finally found their source.]
[2027: As anomalies proliferated, nations realized these entities were evolving faster than ever. Creatures once suppressed by governments grew beyond containment. Within a year, the world descended into hell.]
[January 3, 2028: Your survival squad scavenged resources in a villa you once designed, stumbling into a Tier-4 anomaly’s territory. Through sheer will, familiarity with the layout, and your teammates’ sacrifices, you slew the Tier-4 “Silent” and activated the system!]
Shen Ge pulled out his phone. The date read January 3, 2024.
So the system’s logs are from the future?
Most protagonists in novels time-traveled themselves—but here, the system had jumped back four years!
According to the logs, anomalies would only become public knowledge in 2027, after a Tier-8 entity devoured Tokyo. His system had activated a year later, in the midst of global collapse.
*”That explains why the black cat felt so weak—it’s not a Tier-4 anomaly yet. It’s still a juvenile, four years away from reaching that level!”*
The realization hit him like a truck: The system had activated prematurely.
It was like learning you could time-travel—only to use that power to strangle Thanos in his crib.
Shen Ge’s excitement withered. Even with the system, knowing the world would end in three years was hardly comforting.
If the planet’s doomed, should I start building a spaceship?
He exhaled sharply. At least the system gave him a head start. Maybe he could alter the future—or at least delay the inevitable.
The logs hinted that governments already knew about anomalies but suppressed the truth. Classic “Men in Black” logic: fear of the unknown bred chaos.
But by 2027, a Tier-8 anomaly would shatter that secrecy, plunging the world into ruin within a year.
Grim as it was, Shen Ge refused to resign himself to fate. Three years of preparation could change everything.
He refocused on his Daily Mission:
[Gather seven days’ supplies and evacuate the anomaly-ridden East District.]
“Stockpiling resources…” Given the logs, he had a plan.
Stepping out of Lushan International, the system blared an urgent alert:
[WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!]
[Host has entered a Tier-7 anomaly’s domain! Lower-tier anomalies infest this area. Flee immediately!]
Shen Ge glanced at the bustling street. “Anomaly-ridden”? The pedestrians looked perfectly normal.
The system’s crimson WARNING flashed across his vision, vanishing as quickly as it appeared—but the tension lingered.
*”If Tokyo fell to a Tier-8, Rong City could be next. Maybe I should move…”*
Dachang, Zhoushi, or Jiujiang were decent alternatives.
Across the street stood “Tom’s,” a two-story supermarket—the perfect place for supplies.
As he stepped onto the crosswalk, another alarm erupted:
[This area is severely contaminated! Hazards include terrain mutation (quicksand, lava, etc.) under the Tier-7’s influence. Escape now!]
Heart pounding, Shen Ge dashed across before the light turned red.
[Reward: 5 points for braving a Tier-7’s domain!]
“…For crossing a street?”
The absurdity was palpable. But inspiration struck. He waited for the next green light and walked back.
[Contaminated zone detected!]
Blank-faced, he strolled to the other side.
He began pacing the crosswalk like a metronome. By the third round, the system caught on:
[Host has mastered navigating Tier-7 hazards! Reward: 15 points.]
Subsequent crossings yielded only praise—no points. After twenty trips, he scraped together 1 more.
“So you can farm an event for points, but the system eventually patches it. Clever… but not clever enough.”
His total now stood at 91. Nine short of a gacha pull.
Time to find another exploit.