Famine 48: Fullness at 51%

[Day 15 / 06:00 AM / Saint’s Mausoleum—Level 18 / Current Farm Fullness: 5%]

Shi He’s hand rested on the top of the box, and at last, he made his decision.

The Xubei Squad stood behind him, forming a circle.

“Are you sure?” Zhong Yanqing asked one final time.

Shi He took a deep breath. “I’m sure.”

“Do you remember what our goal is?”

The Xubei Squad, one by one, answered in unison: “To end the Hunger Game and win back a true future for human civilization.”

Zhong Yanqing gave a bitter laugh. “Sigh, it was that bastard Bian Xu who used that line to rope us together in the first place.”

“For seven long years, humanity has survived the Hunger Game. The land has been littered with corpses, rivers run with blood, and every possible effort has been tried by countless people, only for us to watch things spiral slowly to ruin.”

Shi He raised his head, his eyes steady and resolute.

“Humanity needs a catalyst to break this cycle.”

“Desire, pride, hypocrisy, envy… all these really are human traits—they’ve never been stripped from us. Yet now, here we are, gathered together. Our ideals, our mutual trust, are human too. No matter how harsh our circumstances, humanity’s search for the future can always transcend our innate flaws, making us unite and cooperate toward a brighter tomorrow.”

“I want to try, this once, to believe in humanity—believe we have a chance to end this Hunger Game!”

Zhong Yanqing watched him for a while, then slowly smiled.

“Do you know?” she said lightly, “When Pandora opened the box, all the evils in the world flew out to spread across the earth—but there was one thing that stayed behind, forever sunk at the bottom of Pandora’s box…”

“That one thing was hope.”

Shi He looked around. All the Xubei Squad’s eyes burned like stars, igniting the night with their fire. Some were uncertain, some hesitant, but at this moment, they all did as Shi He said: they believed in him.

“Go on—do what you must do.”

Under everyone’s gaze, Shi He lifted the ornate metal lid.

Black mist flooded out, erupting like a tidal wave, instantly engulfing the entire ritual platform and swallowing the Xubei Squad whole.

Shi He and the others didn’t even have time to say a single word before the mist consumed them.

Above the starry sky, the Main God’s giant eye narrowed, as usual revealing a mocking smile.
But this time, it closed slightly, lowering in exhaustion for just a moment.

Above the black mist, a flicker—and then lines of golden text appeared.

[Time until transition to the next world: 20 days.]
[Time until Pandora’s Box is unraveled: 20 days.]

…………
……

[Day 15 / 06:30 AM / Bone Ferry / Current Farm Fullness: 5%]

Half the Bone Ferry was already submerged in the sea of blood.

The last of the survivors had mostly been evacuated to safety. Amid the pervasive smell of blood, some cried out in pain, some wept. The wounded were dressing their injuries; those who remained gathered in the square, on rooftops, shivering, filled with bewildered anger—

“Why?”
“What exactly happened—was it Gu Haoping?”
“I never thought he was such a monster, I really misjudged him…”
“When will that bastard die?!”

They whispered amongst themselves.

Suddenly, someone with sharp eyes sat upright and shouted, “Look! Someone’s coming out from the fallen zone!”

Everyone turned to look.

A raft drifted from the bloody waters, leaving ripples in its wake as it glided out.

The elderly Zhong Manwen stood at the prow, gripping a sharpened bamboo pole, from which hung the bloodied head of a man. Her back was straight, gaze unwavering, and the hands of the Service Player, gnarled with years of work, were corded with veins.

This courageous fighter raised the pole high and called in a deep, resonant voice, “The traitor Gu Haoping has fallen!”

“The traitor Gu Haoping has fallen!”
“The traitor Gu Haoping has fallen!”

In an instant, the people erupted, cheers rising up to the very heavens.

The thunder of celebration reached Sha Tong, who was lying on his sickbed, clutching his leg, grimacing, muttering about still being able to fight, but now—at last—breaking into helpless, joyful laughter.

After Gu Haoping’s death, the gushing blood gradually subsided. Nie Du’s power flared to fill every vulnerable gap; without Gu Chao’s interference, the restoration sped up rapidly. The Bone Ferry was soon freed from the grip of the bloodpool and slowly rose again.

Nie Du, performing his duty to the last, finished repairing the ferry, then, as a wave of exhaustion struck him, toppled over and lost consciousness.

Around him, the others exchanged glances and lowered their voices.

Shhh.
He’s lost too much blood—let the commander sleep.

At last, the red tide withdrew, and the crisis was gone; people returned to their tents and homes, tended to the losses wrought by the chaos, cared for the wounded, and, together with the volunteers, tallied casualties and began rebuilding.

Once the statistics were in, Sha Tong was surprised—the number of civilian casualties was not as high as he’d imagined. The bloodpool had sought “cursed resentment,” rarely killing outright, preferring instead to corrode skin with its curse, seeding terror and animosity.

A small comfort amid the disaster.

Si Zhiyan returned to the farm and, in a generous move, opened all sales channels.
A cup of hot milk from the farm, costing only 50 points, was delivered nonstop. Thickly sweet and soothing, it warmed every heart and calmed every pain—a potent balm for soul, blood, and nerves.

At last, the long night was over.
Clutching blankets and sipping steaming milk, they greeted the dawn.

…………
……

When Nie Du awoke, it was already the next morning.

He had slept a full day and night in the commander’s quarters, dreaming calm, peaceful dreams, waking with every bone and muscle feather-light and refreshed. At first, as wisps of morning fog still drifted by, he was disoriented, thinking it was any ordinary morning. Propping himself up, half-dazed, he called out, “Haoping, what time is it?”

No answer to either of his calls.

Staring at the ceiling, Nie Du blinked, and after several seconds, memories of recent days surged in on him—Xubei Squad, Miracle of Suffering, bloodpool, the severed arm… Weariness washed over him, and his arms, suddenly limp, dropped him back to the bed with a thud.

…Wait, both arms?

Mildly startled, Nie Du turned to look at his left arm. Where his limb should have been lost, there was a new one, wholly black—its surface a swirling distortion like a black hole, indescribable, deathly. Yet, to him, it felt utterly harmless.

He flexed experimentally. This arm moved as naturally as his own, dexterous and obedient. The only difference: a sense of mountain-splitting strength and a chaotic, perilous aura. Once he got used to it, his combat power would see a huge leap.

All the bone-worms clustered on that left arm, yet Nie Du felt oddly comfortable, pain entirely absent. Since accepting the Miracle of Suffering, it had been many, many years since he last felt so at peace.

“……”
Nie Du gazed, dazed, at his left hand.

After a long moment, he touched his face.
It had been ruined before the apocalypse, and the Main God’s work had only made it more grotesque—so now, nothing much had changed.

Knock, knock.

Two gentle raps pulled Nie Du’s senses back. He looked up—outside the window, a raven had landed. Its feathers were pure black, limbs gnarled, and every plume seemed a splinter of the abyss.

Nie Du opened the window, and the raven spread its wings, fluttering down to perch on his left shoulder.

He lightly stroked the raven, testing its long, hard tail feathers. It showed no obvious intelligence, only pecked at his hand, perhaps in pain, perhaps in fondness.

After a while, Nie Du suddenly spoke:
“Sir, are you watching?”

Mist roiled, and Si Zhiyan’s spectral form appeared in the depths of the dawn. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, saying nothing, simply regarding Nie Du in silence.

Nie Du said, “Sir, is Gu Haoping dead?”

“He is.”

“And… this?”

“The embers left when rotwood burns.”

“……” Slowly, Nie Du closed his eyes, stroking the raven’s ebony beak, and a faint smile touched his lips. “I understand.”
“Sincerely, thank you, sir.”

…………
……

With Gu Haoping dead, the entire Captain’s Guards were executed. Sha Tong, blade in hand, personally sent every last participant in Gu Haoping’s rebellion—every abuser of Service Players—to the guillotine.

Captain Yang, disheveled, his once-splendid uniform torn away and hands bound behind him, sobbed: “Captain Sha, Captain Sha—I’ve always been loyal to you! I have information—you don’t know it, but there’s a traitor in your ranks; his name is Liu Zheng—”

Sha Tong ignored him. One stroke, a spray of blood and a head rolled to the ground.

Only when the head lay by his feet did Sha Tong sneer, punting it away: “Spineless turncoat. Sickening to look at.”

He took a towel from his brothers and wiped away the blood. The new Captain’s Guards would now be formed from the volunteers—after this life-and-death ordeal, the Volunteers had forged bonds in battle, ready to fight on for their shared ideal.

But first, he had to see someone.

When Liu Zhengchu awoke in his tent, Nan Nan was lying beside him, eyes bright with tears and pride.

“Zhengchu, you’re awake.”

He blinked. “I’m not… hurt?”

Nan Nan nodded firmly: “You were carried back by the volunteers’ rescue team, all covered in blood. We were scared half to death. But the farm’s milk got to you in time and stopped the bleeding. Now you’re fine.”

“You saved me, Uncle Wang, Auntie Wang, Mr. Lin next door, and so many others… A lot of people came to see you and brought gifts to our home.”

“You know, everyone says you’re a hero!”

Her eyes sparkled as if she were gazing at the greatest person in the world.

Liu Zhengchu hugged her tightly and sighed. “Nan Nan…”
A thousand words became choked down in a single breath.

Right then, the tent’s bell suddenly rang.

Liu Zhengchu started in alarm, raising his head—yet the arrival was neither a volunteer nor Sha Tong, but a gray-haired old woman.

“Hello, Mr. Liu Zhengchu.”
Hands folded, her smile was gentle but unyielding.
“I’m Zhong Manwen, the new administrator of Bone Ferry. You may call me Ms. Zhong.”

“With reconstruction, we’ve divided the ferry into seven sectors, and need grassroots managers. Captain Sha recommended you; I agree, you’re well-suited. Would you be interested in becoming our sector’s street manager?”
“9-to-6, weekends off, wages paid on time every month.”

Stunned by the flood of fortune, Liu Zhengchu’s voice trembled: “Ah! Me… me? Is that allowed? I’m just…” a Service Player.

“Why not? Many people respect you; your reputation is more than enough.” Zhong Manwen smiled. “The lessons of recent times have made it clear: this settlement’s management must include the voice of Service Players.”

“We may not fight, but we can put in effort where it counts.”

Still hesitant, Liu Zhengchu could not resist the offer, and took a deep breath and accepted.
Nan Nan hugged him in delight. Zhong Manwen nodded with a smile and bid farewell, while Liu Zhengchu sat dumbstruck on his bed.

Until Zhong Manwen paused at the threshold and turned slightly:

“…Let the past be the past.”
“Welcome the new dawn, Mr. Liu.”

As he watched her walk away, Liu Zhengchu’s tears finally spilled over.

……

Afterward, Zhong Manwen found time to visit the farm and see Tang Qinghuai.

After these days apart and near-death, mother and son met again, embracing so tightly they were both choked with tears. Zhong Manwen stroked her son’s face again and again, while Tang Qinghuai, holding his mother’s fragile form, kept smiling—then suddenly, tears would well up once more.

“Mom. You’re so incredible.”
“I’ve looked up to you since I was a kid.”

She wiped her tears and patted his back: “Don’t think I don’t know you. Mom’s little shadow is all grown now.”

They shared a glance, both breaking into watery laughter.

Tang Qinghuai said, “Mom, you really won’t come to the farm?”

Zhong Manwen ruffled his hair with a smile.

“Mom loves you, and believes in you. I’ll always be with you.”
“But Bone Ferry needs me, and needs the gap between us bridged as well. Don’t worry, Captain Sha and the others will keep me safe.”

“You’re all grown now, my boy—it’s time for you to live your own days.”

Tang Qinghuai nodded hard.

Time was tight, so after a few words, he sent his mother off, then hurried back to his lab table.

Li Shize raced around on urgent business but still managed to clap him on the head: “Done catching up? Back to work!”

“Coming.” Tang Qinghuai answered, resuming his task and chuckling as he poured solutions.

Li Shize glanced aside. “You seem in a good mood.”

Tang Qinghuai answered without annoyance, “I’m happy for Mom. She’s always been strong—Dad and I both listened to her. But all these years surviving this Hunger Game, just getting by with us, it wore her down. Now she finally has her own stage, full of drive… Senior, pass me that beaker.”

With a laugh, Li Shize handed it over, hands never missing a beat. “Aunt Zhong was always remarkable.”

“The Hunger Game must have buried so many people like her.”

“Who can say otherwise…” Tang Qinghuai’s eyes softened as he watched the new batch of explosives form under his hands. “Good thing we have the farm owner.”

They’d definitely have to pay him back properly.

Now that Gu Haoping was dead, all the raw materials had come into their hands.

The most important task for Tang Qinghuai and Li Shize was to make every minute count, and finish the explosives the farm owner needed!

[Day 16 / 10:30 PM / Farm Owner’s Cottage / Current Farm Fullness: 5%]

At last, every last bit of the explosives had been delivered.

Si Zhiyan settled their promised points, saw them off, then used cloud-mist to carry the two bulging bags of explosives down to the basement.

There was still over half an hour before the main quest timer ended. Everything would be decided here and now.
To be safe, Si Zhiyan had already evacuated all tenants from the farm, facing the swelling red orb and expanding farm core alone.

If anything went wrong, so be it—better himself in danger than everyone else.

Entering the basement again, black slabs of meat overflowed everywhere.
The farm core was a colossal, swollen heart, red threads binding it tightly, throbbing with a frustrated hunger.

Si Zhiyan’s body was already tainted black with filth. Instinctive terror made his heart race as if it would burst from his chest.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the discomfort, gently tapping the trembling vine coiled at his neck.

There, there. Almost done.

Wave after wave of explosives flowed through the mist, packing the basement full to the brim. Once all was set, Si Zhiyan retreated, drew a deep breath, and pressed the detonator.

BOOM—

A great quake shook the farm—chandeliers rattled, lawns trembled, nearly tearing in half. The vast lake rippled like a basin of water, whitecaps splashing again and again.

Si Zhiyan was blasted off his feet by the shockwave. He reacted instantly, swinging his hand, and in a flash, the last 7% of his [Spectral Avatar] cocooned him protectively.

Boom!

A second explosion—his spectral form trembled, fracturing into pieces!

[Spectral Avatar heavily damaged]
[Spectral Avatar remaining energy: 0%!]

[Spectral Avatar destroyed]

[Current rebirth countdown: 100h]

Pain flared throughout his body, the vine at his neck spasming and tightening desperately.

He couldn’t breathe—body bowing, clutching wildly at the choking vine, he collapsed onto the shuddering floor. “Cough!! Let go! Let go!”

The thunderous quake continued for what felt an eternity, before at last, the shaking faded. The grip at his neck abruptly loosened.

The vine twitched uncomprehendingly. It flexed in the air, almost in disbelief, as if it had yet to realize what kind of freedom it suddenly possessed.

“…Hah…”

Si Zhiyan rubbed his neck, livid red from the constriction, and let out a breath.

He entered the basement. At its heart, the farm core stood surrounded by wreckage.
The core-mass throbbed violently, expressing its terrible hunger.

The surroundings were empty save for scattered chunks of flesh.
The red light that had bound it was completely annihilated by the blast.

Slowly, Si Zhiyan smiled.

“No need to rush,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “Feeding time has come.”

He had saved for this day. With a wave, he summoned the store interface.
After so long in restraint, he bought up everything he’d had his eye on.

[Ding! Congratulations on purchasing the Barbecue Set!]
[Ding! Congratulations on purchasing the Fishing Game!]
[Ding! Congratulations on purchasing the Not-So-Honest Mill (Enchanted: Level 1)!]
[Ding! Congratulations on purchasing the 24-Hour Unattended Convenience Store!]
[Ding! Congratulations on purchasing the Vending Machine That Sells Anything!]
…………
……

System prompts chimed non-stop.

[You have just fed the haunted charm: A-tier—Wailing Remains x1]
[Sprouting in the nursery…]

[Farm Fullness rising… 5%… 10%… 23%… 40%….]

[Ding! Current Farm Fullness: 51%!]
[Ding! [Main Quest: Feed It (3)] complete!]
[Congratulations! Reward unlocked: Defense Weaving System, Wall Turret System, both now available.]

[Total points earned 15,000; fullness reached 50%… LV3 upgrade conditions met.]
[Upgrading now…]

[Recovery time for spectral avatar reset!]
[Your spectral avatar is returning to your side.]

[Ding! Congratulations, your farm has been upgraded to LV3!]

[Congratulations, you’ve acquired a legendary terrain: Dense Forest!]