Lin Xian probably never imagined that after the apocalypse, getting into the largest human megacity in the Asia-Pacific would require sneaking in.

Everyone looked tense. The Swordfish transport ship was docked in a crumbling street far from the outskirts of Dawn City. Dozens of zombies were howling as they gathered, drawn by the noise. The hatch opened, but no one moved inside—until a flash of sharp metal silently sliced through the air, instantly shredding a swath of the undead. The metal streaks then flew back and neatly aligned themselves beside a twin-tailed, purple-haired girl radiating psychic energy as she floated out of the ship.

Lin Xian quickly stepped down from the ship. Although they were still more than twenty kilometers from Wall No. 1 of Dawn City, the place they had stopped at was already part of the urban sprawl. Looking up, he saw a sea of pitch-black, ruined buildings stretching endlessly, and in the distance, a towering wall sliced across heaven and earth like a colossal industrial marvel. It loomed over a hundred meters high, encircling the vast expanse of Dawn City. Under the scattered moonlight, the silhouette of the Twin Star Towers could be faintly seen.

“Buildings taller than 100 meters don’t have their lights on, so from outside, all you can see is the wall,” Jian Xuwei explained, walking up beside Lin Xian.

“Is building a wall that high really useful?” KIKI asked.

“It’s got some value,” Monica smiled softly, stepping to Lin Xian’s side and giving him a meaningful look. “Back during the Xilan City battle, if it weren’t for that industrial wall, we wouldn’t have lasted two nights.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Yeah, this wall wasn’t built for S-class threats. If it hadn’t been for those Abyss Worms, even A-class or Mutant-class wouldn’t have broken through easily. Dawn City’s firepower is a hundred times that of Xilan.”

“It’s just a shame,” Qian Dele said solemnly. “A massive wall and even an underground city, but no hope in sight.”

“Chairwoman Jian, are we walking straight into Dawn City from here?” he asked seriously.

Jian Xuwei said nothing. Her gaze was sharp as she stared down the dark street ahead.

“Everyone stay alert—lots of active signals up ahead.” Lu Xingchen, who hadn’t stretched his legs in a while, followed Lin Xian toward Dawn City with a sense of solemn duty. His eyes flickered with sparks, having detected something in the distance.

“They’re not aberrant creatures—they’re people,” Shiori quickly added. “A lot of them.”

Lin Xian’s eyes narrowed. A roar echoed from afar, flames lighting up the horizon. Engines blared as an armored convoy thundered through the broken darkness, plowing through zombies and abandoned vehicles with a massive all-terrain engine at the front, followed by over a dozen customized heavy trucks and tactical vehicles.

But something about the convoy struck Lin Xian as odd. Though the vehicles appeared cobbled together with scrap steel, graffiti, and tarp—a stereotypical apocalyptic look—he could tell at a glance that their internal setup was far more advanced. Maybe to avoid drawing attention, they weren’t using any weapons and simply drove in.

Jian Xuwei stepped forward, raising a hand to stop the others from getting battle-ready. “They’re ours. No need to worry.”

At her words, Fire Bro and the others relaxed slightly. The convoy rumbled to a stop about a hundred meters from the ship. Their blinding headlights lit up Lin Xian’s group. Doors opened, and a well-equipped squad emerged, walking toward them.

Their gear was top-grade—most wore Ghost Wolf or Iron Hunter-class power armor, and their weapons looked lethal. Leading them was a young man with a troubled expression. As his power armor helmet retracted, Lin Xian immediately recognized him—it was Jian Xuwei’s younger brother, Jian Zeyang. They had met previously at the Yubei Air Hub.

“Everything’s ready, sis!” Jian Zeyang reported.

Jian Xuwei nodded and turned to Lin Xian. “I had Zeyang operate around Dawn City’s outer district this whole time—to pass intel and gather survivors. We’ve built up quite a bit of strength here.”

“You thought her brother was being controlled by Jian Zeyang?” Lin Xian asked, a bit surprised.

“That wasn’t it. You agreed to cooperate mostly because of the bigger picture. The Finger Group’s assets and manpower were vast, and truthfully, we needed Dawn City’s help too.”

Just then, someone approached quickly—it was Gong Pengzhi. His eyes lit up as he hurried forward and extended his hand.

“Captain Lin! Long time no see. And thank you for what you did in Yubei. I used to talk sh*t and treat you like a jerk—hope you didn’t take it personally.”

Lin Xian glanced at him without much reaction. Jian Xuwei had clearly changed during this time—more weathered, less arrogant, and more grounded.

“I don’t blame you,” Lin Xian said flatly. “Anyone would be skeptical in that situation.”

Gong Peng laughed and shook his hand. “Exactly! We just didn’t know how powerful you were. The Xilan City incident? S-class kill with a micro mech? Total badass!” He grinned with admiration.

“Zeyang’s never been into mech tech,” Lin Xian said. “But ever since he used that gas turbine engine to pull thousands of vehicles off the low-orbit track, I’ve respected him.”

“Okay, okay,” Gong Pengzhi coughed, a little embarrassed. Then he got serious. “Captain Lin, the route into the city is all arranged. Patrols are thinning, but we need to move fast. If we’re spotted, it’ll be hard to escape.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Lin Xian agreed.

Jian Zeyang signaled a subordinate to handle the transport ship while the rest boarded the massive all-terrain vehicle. The convoy turned toward Dawn City and sped off.

“Zhou Mingyuan locked down the city. An A-class aberration showed up in the western sector, and the garrison fought for hours. That’s the fifth A-class assault on the main city in the last 48 hours. People are connecting it to the Scarlet World and Star Abyss,” Jian Zeyang briefed as they moved.

“What does the western sector’s aberration have to do with Abyss No. 5?” Qian Dele asked.

“Not No. 5—No. 8!” Jian Zeyang said sharply. “Abyss No. 8 is expanding fast. The entire Funing region and half of Liaohai are gone. Polar Night is near Tianwei now. The outpost there spotted an S-class in the sky—no direct encounters yet, but it’s been seen. Some think it was an illusion.”

Lin Xian frowned. “Tianwei isn’t far from Yongcheng Port, is it?”

“Correct,” Jian Xuwei said. “By our estimates, it’ll enter the Polar Night Zone in less than a week.”

“And now with so many convoys trying to leave, the domino effect has begun. Zhou Mingyuan and the Population Control Bureau used the chaos as an excuse to ban nighttime departures. It looks calm on the surface, but most people are ready to bolt,” Jian Zeyang added.

“No one wants to bet on a deal with the Federation and the Scarlet World,” Qian Dele murmured.

“That’s only part of it,” Jian Zeyang said. “Most big convoys don’t want to stay long. With Polar Night coming, everyone’s trying to reach Dawnlight. Only small convoys and ordinary survivors have no choice. The walls and underground shelters help calm panic, but most people can’t even get inside—forget the underground city, even passing the wall is hard.”

“Dawn City’s massive. Taking in this many people shouldn’t be a problem,” Lin Xian said coldly. “It’s just resource scarcity, isn’t it?”

Jian Zeyang nodded. “Exactly. Water, food, medical supplies—everything’s limited. The denser the population, the more catastrophic any chain reaction becomes. Since we arrived, nighttime aberrations have flared up nightly. Dozens die on a ‘quiet’ night. 80% of major incidents happen in the outer district, outside Wall No. 1.”

“So the inner city’s actually pretty safe?” KIKI asked.

“Relatively, yes,” Jian Xuwei replied. “With Wall No. 1, there are no zombies or aberrations inside—only threat is the darkness.”

“And Red Aberrants,” Jian Zeyang added. “But yeah, it’s safe. They’ve got commerce, entertainment, powered battles, underground arenas—even black markets. Most convoys recruit openly there—just depends who pays more.”

“The Federation’s recruiting too?” Lin Xian asked.

“Absolutely,” Jian Zeyang said. “They’re the best at it—especially the Seraphs and Night Patrol. Since they’re different factions, they even compete. Zhou Mingyuan created the ‘Light of Humanity Evolution Ranking.’ Top scorers get permanent residency in the underground city—and fat bonuses.”

“A ranking? That’s actually clever,” Lin Xian muttered, frowning.

“Yeah. They’ve drawn in plenty of powerful Espers,” Jian Zeyang replied.

“Destruction-level?” KIKI asked.

“More than that,” Jian Zeyang said. “After that S-class kill, several top talents have already reached Angel-level.”

“That’s 10,000 Esper Points?”

“Exactly!”

That number changed everyone’s expressions—KIKI, Fire Bro, Qian Dele—all looked grim. Ever since the Esper readings in Xilan City, they’d been fighting nonstop. Who knew what their current levels were? And honestly, back in Star Abyss, power alone hadn’t solved anything.

The convoy pressed forward, and gradually, the surrounding noise swelled into a chaotic uproar. Gunfire occasionally burst through the air.

Lin Xian and the others pulled open the blackout shades. Instantly, a post-apocalyptic scene unfolded before them. As the convoy moved closer to the city wall, the ruined streets of the outer district became flooded with convoy camps. From scattered to densely packed, countless tents, steel-framed machine gun towers, and all kinds of vehicles covered every available space. Only the main road leading directly into Dawn City remained open.

Helicopters, drones, and patrolling mech units buzzed overhead, broadcasting alerts and public safety messages. The entire area resembled an endless refugee camp, with fires stretching as far as the eye could see.

“Stay cautious during the night. Regularly check your Soul Purge Detector. A moment of carelessness leads to disaster.”

“Warning: The convoy at G67 Xianglan Street Plaza Camp, extinguish all bonfires immediately!”

“Reminder from the Night Patrol of Dawn City: Building a secure zone is everyone’s duty. Stay alert, scan often, prevent thoroughly. Do not overlook any dark marks or signs of aberration.”

Their line of sight revealed tens of thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands—of survivors’ convoy camps forming a grotesque mockery of a city. Some sturdy high-rise buildings had already been occupied, their rooftops covered in machine guns and watchtowers. Barbed wire fenced off every street corner. Even with all that, the distant, intermittent zombie shrieks and gunshots made it impossible to sleep peacefully.

Seeing this, Qian Dele and the others all wore solemn expressions. This apocalyptic scene was even more suffocating than what they had experienced inside Star Abyss. And this was just the outside of Dawn City—it already felt like a massive refugee zone. It was terrifying to imagine what would happen if a large-scale monster wave or aberrant assault hit this place.

Along the roadside, countless survivors watched the convoy speeding past. Lin Xian noticed that most of the convoys here were made up of elderly people, women, and children—very few were able-bodied adults. But regardless of whether it was a middle-aged woman or a white-haired elder, they were all fully armed, holding steel rifles. On top of a supermarket roof, there were more than a dozen kids of various heights patrolling, all carrying heavy machine guns. The oldest one among them probably wasn’t even fifteen.

Seeing the surprised expressions on Lin Xian and the others’ faces, Jian Xuwei explained, “There’s a rule for entering the city: the ratio of combatants to dependents can’t exceed 1:2. There’s no restriction on the age or gender of dependents, but everyone’s combat capability is assessed—specifically their peak Soul Drift Value. Dawnbreak City doesn’t test for limit coefficients, so it's already pretty lenient. Still, it’s hard for the elderly and children to develop Soul Drift Values higher than young adults. That’s why the convoys left outside tend to be mostly made up of the old, weak, women, and children.”

“Kinda figured.”

Lin Xian’s eyes flickered as his expression darkened. In this moment, besides a sigh, he didn’t know what else to say.

Ever since Doomsday began, everyone silently accepted this brutal system of elimination. Lin Xian was no exception. When he first initiated the Orbital Train Project, his requirements were high combat capability and resource sufficiency. Back then, aside from family, no one had the luxury of caring about others’ old folks, women, or children. Convoys that tried to be charitable died off fast. Even Shu Qin’s convoy lost people along the way until they joined the Infinity and their survival rate improved.

It wasn’t until the United Convoy became strong enough that Lin Xian’s mentality began to shift. He started accepting convoys like Li Yi’s team. Strictly speaking, kids like Mo Xiaotian and Duoduo were obedient and helpful with logistics, but didn’t contribute much to combat. Still, Lin Xian’s current team was capable enough for him to accept and shelter these people—not just weigh their worth in cold, hard numbers.

At that moment, the convoy drove into what looked like a school. Armed convoys were becoming more frequent on the streets. Makeshift steel walls, iron fences, guard towers, and machine gun nests had sealed off the school entirely. It was clearly the base of a large alliance convoy. Just the modified vehicles parked on the grounds and playground numbered in the hundreds. There was even a row of aircraft. Two small nuclear-powered polar vehicles were stationed by the main building and the field, powering the entire camp. From the orderly layout and internal organization, it was clear this was no weak force.

“Zeyang, how many people do you have now?” As the convoy passed through the fortified school gates, Jian Xuwei asked.

“About eight thousand.” Jian Zeyang licked his lips and glanced at Lin Xian with some pride. “I’ve merged with a few more convoys over the last couple of days. They’re all pretty strong. There aren’t many mid-to-large convoys coming here anymore. Even if there are, they won’t enter the city. A lot of them are forming alliances in the outer zones, getting ready to head toward the Dawn Center.”

“Eight thousand? That many?”

“As long as you don’t restrict them, they’ll come from all directions.” Jian Zeyang looked a bit helpless. “The one thing Dawnbreak City doesn’t lack is people. Everyone wants to survive. Everyone wants to unite. But one convoy can’t support too many non-combatants or low-combat members. Some convoys even have to turn back and risk their lives killing aberrant creatures just to collect Blood Essence and qualify for entry. What else can they do?”

“Strictly speaking, it’s only been a hundred days since Apocalypse Day. Ninety-nine percent of humanity was wiped out overnight. Even with all the existing resources, the remaining one percent couldn’t possibly use them all up.” Monica’s voice was loud and clear. “Too bad over 85% of the main cities were lost. Strategic supplies, food—all heavily contaminated. That’s why things are so scarce now.”

“Yeah, and water too,” Jian Xuwei added. “Now water resources are pretty much brute-forced, which is why the mutation rate in the outer city zones is so high.”

“Jie, Captain Lin, we’re here.”

The convoy stopped in a clearing behind the school’s research and teaching building. Lin Xian and the others got out. Jian Zeyang led a group through a nearly-collapsed, leaning academic building, stepping through waterlogged and crumbling hallways.

“Below this school, there's a link to the original Xing City Track Line 12 maintenance section. We use that route to enter the city and gather supplies,” Jian Zeyang explained, holding a large flashlight as he led the way.

They turned a corner and entered a spacious underground chamber. Through a man-made breach in the wall, they entered an abandoned subway tunnel.

An old electric locomotive sat quietly on the tracks, towing several metro cars. The cars looked roughly modified, probably used for storing supplies.

“Jie, are you sure you don’t need me to go in with you?” Jian Zeyang asked as he helped Lin Xian and the others board. The driver was one of his men. He looked at Jian Xuwei with concern.

“No need,” Lin Xian said. “Your sister wants you out here so you can cover us if needed.”

As he spoke, he made a gesture with one hand. A burst of electric arc flashed through the tunnel, startling everyone. Before they could even react, Lin Xian pointed behind Jian Zeyang.

“I’m leaving a helper here so I can stay in touch.”

Jian Zeyang whipped around and saw a ballerina-style robot had appeared among his crew. This was Lin Xian’s Dancer-01. Though only a standard combat bot in terms of intelligence, it had an ultra-high frequency transmitter that outperformed most communication devices and was harder to intercept. Lin Xian had left it here to stay updated on the situation outside the city.

Jian Zeyang rubbed his eyes hard. “When the hell did that thing show up?”

His men all looked stunned, shaking their heads.

Even KIKI and Monica beside Lin Xian looked baffled. Where had the robot come from? How had no one noticed it?

Only Qian Dele, sitting in the corner, had seen it all happen thanks to his extraordinary speed. He stared at Lin Xian, chuckled with curiosity.

This guy… did he just open a portal to another world?

Without further explanation, Lin Xian and Jian Xuwei set off. The electric locomotive sped through the abandoned tunnel, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

“If this thing enters the city, there’s no way Dawnbreak City won’t notice, right?” KIKI asked.

“They will,” Jian Xuwei replied calmly. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s just a matter of price.”

She glanced at KIKI. “In this post-apocalyptic world, everything has a price. Professional ethics and conscience are the cheapest commodities.”

“Fair point,” Qian Dele said with a chuckle.

Lin Xian turned and looked at Shiori, who had been quiet the entire way. When their eyes met, Shiori blinked innocently, as if asking, Should I be saying something?

When she got no reply, she quietly shuffled to the side, slipping into Lin Xian’s blind spot.

“Let’s talk about the plan,” Lin Xian said to Jian Xuwei. “Taking control of the main control center won’t be easy, right?”

“Well, that depends on who you’re asking,” she replied, looking at Lin Xian. “For you… it should be pretty simple.”