Famine 235: The Fall of Buzhou Mountain

　　[Main God Showdown Countdown: 420 days]
　　[Number of Worlds Currently Collected: 384]
　　[Average Collection Speed: 3 per day]

　　The mine’s manager—“Manager Ape” Lu Xingde—had just sprinted over, exhausted, and now sat in the meeting room, panting with excitement.

　　Bian Xu sat beside him, refilling his teacup. Lu Xingde accepted it with both hands, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

　　Bian Xu chuckled, giving his furry back a pat. “Why so formal? Take your time, no rush.”

　　These days, as the mysterious and powerful “Assistant,” Bian Xu was never far from Si Zhiyan’s side, often appearing with him on major occasions.

　　Where he came from, who he was, when he first appeared beside the farm master, and why Mr. Si trusted him so implicitly—nobody knew. Players speculated wildly about his origins, but no matter the rumor, he was already accepted as a figure of great importance on the farm.

　　Lu Xingde took a cautious sip, his eyes going wide, “Huh? The teacup’s got ice-cold cola in it?!”

　　Bian Xu leaned back, winked, “You prefer tea instead?”

　　Lu Xingde laughed, visibly relaxing. “Cola’s best!”

　　He threw back his head, taking a big refreshing gulp.

　　Bian Xu’s unassuming manner always put people at their ease—so much so that before long, they couldn’t help but warm to him.

　　Si Zhiyan glanced over, smiling faintly.

　　Lately, people had been eating and living in earnest, their lives scattered like starlight across the landscape of the Famine Game, working hard and fighting bravely.
　　After several rounds of mobilization, the farm’s average world-clearing rate stabilized at three worlds per day, give or take.

　　But the condition to upgrade the mine to LV5 was an immense amount of fully refined Tier-2 ore—a goal not quickly achieved.

　　Si Zhiyan had devoted his attention to building out the armed sequence, the placement of watchtowers, and collecting new worlds—it had been some time since he’d checked in on the mines.

　　There was plenty for Si Zhiyan to do; the miners and players at the mine pursued their specializations independently.

　　They’d been working hard, tracking their progress bar. Now, at last, their efforts had paid off.

　　The LV5 mine was the highest possible grade.

　　The new mine shaft was a deep one, plunging nearly a kilometer beneath the surface.

　　The miners worked like some burrowing species, digging a vast web beneath the world, feverishly drawing on the planet’s hidden bounty.

　　Their tunnels were spacious, well-lit—with bright lamps every few steps, and fresh air pumped in to keep the space clean.

　　They worked eight-hour shifts, well fed, protected with proper gear, joking with coworkers as they rode the elevator down, then transferred via shuttle cars to work the machinery in their designated tunnels.

　　Each miner carried a pouch of sunflower seeds.

　　During operations, all sorts of familiar “mine spirit” hamsters would periodically poke their heads out. It was considered lucky to see a mine vein spirit, so the miners would cheerfully offer them a pouch of seeds, appealing to the little lords to bless their day’s work.

　　The fuzzy mine spirits could seldom resist such a treat.

　　At first, they would squirm and grumble, repeating “I am not a hamster,” or “I don’t listen to humans,” before ultimately taking the seeds with obvious delight. They’d munch contentedly, lying atop the drilling machines, the soft warm glow around them flickering ever so slightly.

　　A mine blessed by a spirit would always see its daily output surge.

　　Bellies full, they’d fall asleep to the gentle rumble of the equipment.

　　It was not at all like the old, sweaty, shout-filled tunnels any longer….
　　But the hamsters always managed to find themselves a cozy place to nap.

　　They were very content.

　　At LV5, earning the full approval of the mine spirits, the output soared.

　　Now, every variety of ore yielded 6,000 pieces per day!

　　With the [Absolutely Fair Sandwich] adding a 15% daily production bonus, that was an astounding 6,900 per day.

　　Lu Xingde, elated, declared, “At this rate, we can basically let every player enjoy true gemstone freedom!”

　　“Well done,” Si Zhiyan said, patting his shoulder.

　　Gem prices could stand to drop, allowing more players to acquire more stones—yet even with greater supply, total revenue only increased.

　　Here on the farm, these powerful gems had almost become standard “gear sets” of their own.

　　Before every sortie, players now matched loadouts according to the target world.

　　Many diligent players, using the farm’s weapon sequence recipe guides, had compiled sets of preset Buff combos for themselves.

　　The [Assault Squad Set Menu], [Agility Booster Feast], [Fireproof Defense Special Combos], and so forth—including full circuits with hot springs.

　　“!” Gao Zhai laughed, gesturing, “Before heading out, always check your loadout, get your preset kit ready—”

　　Liang Qingshuang lamented, “How many years has it been? At last, we get that Dark Souls-turned-Monster Hunter feeling.”

　　Yan Cheng, after a long silence, said, “Too many people died in the past.”

　　A med-player comforted, “From now on, there won’t be so many deaths.”

　　“Every day keeps getting better. In just over a year, after the final ten-years’ showdown, we’ll have truly won!”

　　Yan Cheng asked, “Really?”

　　His voice was hoarse, tinged with uncertain confusion.

　　The air grew quiet, everyone’s expressions subdued, as Yan Cheng took a slow, deep breath and softly said:

　　“Is this…the Main God’s original intention for the Game?”
　　“Can He really tolerate seeing his Game turn out this way?”

　　Yan Cheng closed his eyes—he rarely spoke so much.

　　“Maybe I’m just being paranoid… But I can’t shake the feeling that life is too good now. Something must be about to go wrong.”

　　…

　　No one had an answer for him.

　　Several kilometers away, in the farm master’s study.

　　Si Zhiyan raised his hand, holding a gemstone up to the light.

　　Its shape was strange—a deep blue with blurry, almost melting edges, as if it might fade into the fabric of space. Within, shadowy tides rolled silent and furious, brooding with explosive power.

　　Si Zhiyan gazed at it, saying nothing.

　　It was the new gem unlocked by the LV5 mine.

　　[Fall of Buzhou Mountain]

　　Once, Gong Gong and Zhuanxu vied for supremacy. In a rage, Gong Gong struck Buzhou Mountain.
　　The Pillar of Heaven broke, the nine earthbound tethers snapped; the heavens tilted to the northwest, earth fell from the southeast, and the sun, moon, rivers, and stars all changed course.

　　If you are fated to be destroyed, before your final end, perhaps you’d wish to drag the whole world down with you.

　　Across the entire [Gem Territory], only three [Fall of Buzhou Mountain] gems could exist.

　　[Fall of Buzhou Mountain] must be kept dry and away from any stimulation, never forged or physically altered by any means.

　　Due to its nature, [Fall of Buzhou Mountain] tended toward infinite fusion with the space it occupied, never truly existing as a separate entity. It could move between spaces, like a patch of water able to slip from place to place.

　　If infused with sufficient energy, [Fall of Buzhou Mountain] would carry its entire current space into a violent transformation—within three seconds, it would explode. The resulting shockwave would destroy main-sequence stars and every world fragment connected to them.

　　The explosion was irreversible, annihilating.

　　Its area of effect included the current space and anything deeply integrated into that space: generally, entities that had existed there over thirty days, or which were inherently bound to that space’s origin.

　　The explosion’s power was proportional to the size of the space—typically, even deities could not hope to survive it unscathed.

　　…

　　What this was meant for, was obvious.

　　The farm’s system possessed intelligence of its own.

　　It came from the pre-amnesia, fully-realized Si Zhiyan—the near-godlike [Sir], a fragment of the [Main God].

　　Every time the farm delivered a new function, it was of vital use—either exactly what Si Zhiyan most needed, or a premonitory answer to an approaching challenge.

　　Never had there been a single superfluous addition.

　　Clearly, the farm’s judgment was:

　　At your current strength, to oppose the Main God, you must be prepared to burn the world down together.

　　“Really…” After a long while, Si Zhiyan smiled softly. “Only a few days of good living, and we’re not allowed to dream a moment longer?”

　　Though he said it so, his voice carried no trace of complaint. He lowered his lashes, returning [Fall of Buzhou Mountain] to its box.

　　In essence, so-called world fragments are the remnants left by those who lost to the Main God.

　　To gather up those remnants smoothly is only the qualification for standing on the field.
　　The Main God himself remains far, far ahead.

　　To hope to defeat him head-on with normal means—such hope remained a fragile glimmer.

　　So thought Si Zhiyan.

　　He could not simply walk quietly forward, awaiting the end four hundred days ahead.

　　—He had to do something.

　　Si Zhiyan reached for paper and pen, and bent to writing once more.

　　There were still four hundred and twenty days…

　　………
　　……

　　[Main God Showdown Countdown: 366 days]
　　[Number of Worlds Currently Collected: 558]
　　[Average Collection Speed: 3 per day]

　　Today was overcast.

　　Heavy clouds pressed low over the sun, showing only a few scattered, waxy white rays at the margins. Wind and rain threatened; storm-driven waves surged, drenching the air with moisture.

　　This was nothing unusual.

　　Rare were clear days in the city of anomalies; the air was always heavy and funereal, suffused with malaise.

　　The world had always been cruel—optimism was a uniquely human habit.

　　Beyond the city walls stretched the vast sea.

　　Shi He leaned against a watchtower, cradling a sniper rifle, the sea breeze lulling him toward sleep.

　　This was the [Dead Sea Reef Dock], a large settlement seven hundred kilometers from the farm.

　　It was among the farthest-flung of the farm’s watchtowers, and the outermost outpost at the edge of the farm’s influence.

　　Within its walls were thousands of expeditionary farm players. Beyond lay only endless, ocean-themed anomaly dungeons.

　　Shi He had just completed an S-class world yesterday. Now, it was rest time.

　　Nidhogg had not yet returned.

　　With nothing else to do, he stayed atop the wall, gazing out at the barren, boundless sea.

　　Down by the shore, a few off-duty guards chatted and laughed.

　　They tore up leftover breakfast—some slices of salty egg-yolk sponge cake—and threw them far out into the surging waves.

　　Beneath the surface, shadowy shapes flickered by. Bloody, skeletal merfolk erupted from the sea, snatched up the salt egg cake, and vanished again beneath the waves.

　　No storm could keep the merfolk at bay.

　　The guards’ cheerful voices drifted over the wind, a little distorted—

　　“You again! What a beautiful pink tail this one has!”
　　“So sparkly…”
　　“Do mermaids like salted egg yolk?”
　　“……”

　　Boom!

　　Thunder and lightning swallowed their words.

　　Those guards resting today were all young women—kind-hearted, lively. Border posting was dull work, and their habit, during downtime, was to feed the anomalies for fun.

　　Their superiors tacitly approved, and had informed Shi He. He privately disapproved but, after watching a while, saw that the merfolk seemed to show no inclination to attack, so he said nothing.

　　For people, a little relaxation was necessary. One couldn’t live on edge forever.

　　Yet today, something felt…off.

　　Shi He lifted his gaze, staring out at the churning sea.

　　Boom!

　　A second flash of lightning.

　　Suddenly, Shi He’s expression changed.

　　In a split second, he sprang to his feet, racked the bolt—his movements near invisible—his black bullet burst out like a sword, slicing the sky—

　　Boom!!

　　A massive wave crashed against the city wall—before it could break, Shi He’s bullet burst it open, exposing a tangle of twisted, misshapen, elongated black shadows.

　　Whoosh—

　　Bang—the red signal flare burst above the coast.

　　At the same time, sirens and hoarse warning shouts erupted across every watchtower and rampart:

　　“Move back! Get off the shore! Quick, move!!”

　　“Enemy attack!!!”