"I wished for a stable iron rice bowl job, but I didn’t say it had to be in a wasteland!"

How did he end up transmigrating?

At the age of 26, during a graduate school reunion, egged on by friends, Cheng Ye half-jokingly made a wish: to quickly find a high-paying, stable "iron rice bowl" job.

Who could’ve known that upon waking, he’d find himself transmigrated to a wasteland sanctuary city called "Happiness City."

His predecessor’s father was an inspector in Happiness City, who tragically died during an external mission.

According to the rules, the original host, who grew up in the inner city, had to leave the high walls and take up his father’s role in the isolation zone. But within just one day, overwhelmed by fear, he took his own life with pills.

When Cheng Ye woke up, he had become the third-generation inheritor of this "inspector" identity.

Fortunately, being an inspector was indeed an iron rice bowl.

During the three-month probationary period without external duties, as long as he didn’t court death, the mortality rate was quite low.

"In half a month, I’ll have to go on external duty. I need to get used to scenes like this quickly."

Staring at Edmond’s body, which had finally stopped twitching, Cheng Ye let out a heavy sigh, forcing the surging nausea back down.

"And there’s... activation!"

Raising his hand to grasp the star-shaped pendant on his chest, a flash appeared before Cheng Ye’s eyes, revealing a virtual interface only he could see.

[Civilization Collector]

[Current Activation Progress: 97.4%]

The interface shimmered with a faint blue glow, like ocean waves, gently calming Cheng Ye’s anxious heart.

This pendant was one of the legacies left by his predecessor’s father.

Unfortunately, the original host, overwhelmed by fear, never discovered its secret. It was Cheng Ye who, while rummaging through the belongings, accidentally knocked the pendant into a power strip, revealing that it could absorb electricity and activate this mysterious interface.

"I hope this thing does something useful once activated, or I’m in deep trouble."

Cheng Ye silently prayed.

For a modern person accustomed to the information age, interrogating at the gate wasn’t too difficult. But facing infected entities head-on? He had little confidence.

After all, the infected in this world weren’t like the zombies in American blockbusters, relying purely on gore and roars, only posing a threat when swarming in hordes and easily taken down by a lone adult.

In this wasteland, even the most common infection source, like the tentacle that had just been blown apart by the sentry, could revive a dead human on the spot.

As long as no one pointed out the fact of their "death," these infected corpses could walk, talk, and live among humans, until the infection source within them amassed enough power to trigger a second wave of mass infection.

Stronger infection sources, like the "Dandelion," would instantly release spores covering two kilometers upon death. Even inhaling a single micrometer of those spores would turn a human into a new infected.

Compared to their strength, if given a choice, Cheng Ye would prefer brainless cheats like "hundredfold rewards" or "daily check-in for divine skills," or at the very least, something like a "portal between worlds" or an "infinite upgrade system."

But reality was harsh. His so-called cheat, the "Civilization Collector," sounded painfully plain.

Speaking of plain.

Footsteps approached from the distance, where four bare-chested cleanup crew members seemed to embody that word even more.

No protective suits, no weapons, just a body bag, a shovel, and an isolation box for containing infection sources.

The four chatted and laughed as they opened the cage, swiftly smashing the still-twitching Edmond with the shovel, then grabbing the suction-cup-covered tentacles with their bare hands and stuffing them haphazardly into the isolation box.

Once the containment was complete, while the other three cleaned the cage, the leader turned with a grin, "Inspector Cheng, the contribution point reward will be credited to your personal account as usual, once the infection stage is confirmed."

"Thanks, treat the brothers to some drinks."

Cheng Ye nodded lightly, pulling two bottle-cap-sized coins from his pocket and tossing them over.

The man caught them, his smile growing brighter, though he said, "How could I accept this?"

"Come on, Flynn, no need for formalities between us. Just clean up faster next time."

"It’s a deal. I’ll make sure we’re here in no time, so we don’t delay your work."

Flynn patted his chest, unfazed by Edmond’s blood splattered on it.

This rugged "plainness" made Cheng Ye’s eyelids twitch, and it took a while for him to calm down.

For the rest of the half-day, perhaps influenced by Edmond’s incident, far fewer survivors chose conveyor belt No. 8.

With no one coming for half an hour, Cheng Ye simply packed up his desk and clocked out early.

What’s an iron rice bowl?

As an inspector, though he could never return to the inner city, he gained plenty of privileges.

Compared to inheriting his father’s role, slacking off at work, leaving early, or accepting bribes... ahem, those were just appetizers.

Because he had dealt with an infection source, Cheng Ye followed protocol and reported his health status when passing through the checkpoint.

It took only a few minutes, but it earned him a nod of approval from the checkpoint’s chief, Ding Yishan.

"Not bad. This Cheng Ye has his father’s style: efficient, decisive, and knows how to use his brain to solve problems."

"Most importantly, he follows our rules!"

"Pity his combat talent is so poor, and his courage is average. I wonder if he’ll survive his first external duty," Deputy Chief Harlin shook his head.

As the combat trainer, Harlin had seen many recruits, and Cheng Ye was among the worst.

Sometimes, Harlin even felt Cheng Ye was like a human from the old era, startled by his own gunfire.

"If his combat talent is lacking, isn’t Liu Bi training him?" Ding Yishan frowned, displeased with Harlin’s attitude. "I’ve said it before: we need to be more patient with newbies. Tell Liu Bi that before external duty, Cheng Ye gets a hundred free training bullets daily, charged to the checkpoint’s public expense."

"Yes, sir."

Harlin agreed immediately but smirked as he turned, his eyes flashing with undisguised disdain.

The checkpoint was divided into East and West factions. Since Cheng Ye’s father, Cheng Long, died on duty, the East faction lost a key figure, and its influence waned.

Ding Yishan must be desperate to think of propping up a greenhorn like Cheng Ye.

With that level of talent?

Forget a hundred bullets; even ten thousand would be a waste.

So Harlin didn’t bother objecting.

It was public expense anyway. Let him use it. Did Happiness City’s higher-ups care about a few bullets?

Passing through the isolation zone into the buffer zone, Cheng Ye saw narrow streets lined with dilapidated residential buildings, crowded pedestrian streets filled with wastelanders, and a mall converted into a temporary shelter.

Compared to the dazzling, neon-lit inner city, this place retained the look of the old era, giving Cheng Ye a familiar, almost nostalgic sense of modernity.

After weaving through several alleys, Cheng Ye sniffed and returned to his home in this wasteland.

"Sunrise Electronics Factory Workers’ Compound"

Despite the unimpressive name, it was one of the buffer zone’s legitimate "luxury residences."

With 12 square meters per person, Cheng Ye could exercise in his room without worrying about bumping his head, unlike the average buffer zone residents, where families of four or five crammed into spaces the size of a bathroom.

At the compound’s entrance were three shops.

From left to right: "Uncle Dong’s General Store," "Big Meat Canteen," and "Resource Exchange Station."

The first two were private shops, while the latter was an official buffer zone store, handling the trade of rare resources.

"Uncle Dong, two packs of nutrient paste and a pack of malt candy."

Entering the general store, Cheng Ye called out familiarly.

"Also, my defense comm is out of juice. I’m not heading home yet, so I’ll charge it here, alright?"

"Charge away. It’s flood season, so electricity’s free for now."

Happiness City had a hydroelectric power station, and with the summer flood season in full swing, power was abundant, prompting the higher-ups to waive electricity fees temporarily.

Cheng Ye pulled out his defense comm, a device resembling an old-school mobile phone, and plugged it into the power strip. Discreetly, he slipped off his pendant, tucked it into the socket, and covered it with the comm.

It had been over two months since he discovered the pendant. Based on its percentage and consumption rate, it needed 2,000 kWh to activate.

Only Happiness City could support that. In other sanctuary cities, it’d take a year or more to gather that much power.

To avoid suspicion from excessive electricity use, Cheng Ye was cautious. Initially, he charged at home, but later he used excuses like charging his defense comm at shops to secretly "steal" power for the pendant.

The shop’s 2.5 mm² wiring allowed the pendant to charge about 2 kWh per hour, quite efficient.

Now, with only a 50 kWh gap left, charging overnight at home should meet the activation threshold by morning.

"Here, two packs of nutrient paste and one pack of candy. Three Happiness Coins, Xiao Cheng."

Uncle Dong, a 55-year-old retired Happiness City soldier, had lost the use of his right arm and could no longer hold a gun.

"No way. The going rate out there is at least five coins. Even if you knew my dad, you’ve gotta make a profit."

Cheng Ye took the blood-like nutrient paste, unscrewed the cap, sipped it, and paid.

Happiness Coins were the city’s currency for daily expenses like food and rent, unlike scarce contribution points. His predecessor’s father left nearly 5,000 coins, more than enough for lavish spending.

Plus, an inspector’s monthly salary was 500 coins. For one person, it was impossible to spend it all!