Leaving the shop, his contribution points were completely wiped out, and he was even 7 points in debt.

As slivers of sunlight filtered through the clouds danced on his shoulders, Cheng Ye touched the pickup receipt in his pocket, his excitement lingering.

In the perilous wasteland, a suitable weapon was the foundation of survival.

Its significance was no less than buying a car or a house in the modern world.

“In just two months, I’ve managed to buy my own transcendent weapon?”

It felt almost surreal.

Even if it meant borrowing 100 points from Song Yongfeng and owing the shop 7 more.

Compared to modern folks taking on thirty-year loans, Cheng Ye could only marvel to himself, he’d landed in a “great” era!

If he’d transmigrated to a fallout-style wasteland or one where he’d have to scavenge food alongside zombies, with the original host’s frail body, surviving until now would’ve been a long shot, let alone getting a weapon.

“Thank you, Happiness City. At least in this moment… I’m truly happy.”

Cheng Ye was a man content with what he had.

With his contribution points zeroed out, he shelved any thoughts of browsing firearms.

The standard-issue pistol for inspectors wasn’t useless, and without external duties, he didn’t urgently need a Bison combat pistol.

Besides, working the north and south gates offered chances to contain infection sources. With luck, a couple of days on duty could earn enough points to buy a firearm.

Of course, it was better not to be that lucky.

The more he learned about special infected, the more he understood the struggle of surviving in the wasteland.

Especially from Luo Xiaoxue’s cases last night, one involved a special infected that infiltrated undetected, amassing enough contribution points to pass through the Happiness Gate into the inner city.

Fortunately, the inner city’s monitoring system was robust. Before the infected could accumulate enough power to trigger a secondary outbreak, it fell into a testing trap and was exposed.

Had it gone unnoticed, Happiness City’s scale would likely be half its current size.

Boarding the bus to the library, Cheng Ye took a back-row seat and summoned his collector panel.

The watery blue interface was simple but fully functional.

In the top right corner, like a phone’s battery indicator, it showed the current charge progress.

[Lv1: 32%]

“The night before last, I charged 26 units at home, 23 at the library yesterday, and only 18 at Big B’s place last night…”

Cheng Ye calculated silently, unable to hide his delight.

Reaching 50% allowed one search. Even without using every minute efficiently yesterday, the charge rate was faster than he’d estimated.

At this pace, he might have enough for a search by tomorrow morning.

Flipping to the collector’s personal page, he was surprised.

The night before last, starving and sleepless, the data hadn’t budged.

But after a proper rest last night, the panel updated in sync with his sleep.

“Updates require sleep?”

Noting this rule, Cheng Ye scanned the panel.

[Collector: Cheng Ye]

[Current Rank: Lv.1 Trainee (0.7/100, collect more ‘Information Units’ to level up)]

[Life Level: 0]

[Skills: Basic Power, Beast Instinct, Empty]

[Not yet unlocked…]

[Evaluation: You’ve escaped the bottom of the food chain, where natives could casually hunt you, but you’re still far from the minimum standard of a civilization collector. Focus on searching for transmissible information to quickly gain progress and advance your rank.]

“Well, at least I’m not just a roadside bug natives can kick to death anymore.”

Beyond the evaluation, Cheng Ye noticed the rank section now showed specific upgrade requirements.

The 0.7 likely came from the two skills he’d acquired, with the 100 being the threshold to move past trainee status.

“If one search yields 0.3, then 100 points would need over 300 searches.”

“That’s nearly 16,000 energy units. Even without factoring in the hydroelectric station’s dry season or price hikes, charging 50 units a day would take over half a year.”

After crunching the numbers, Cheng Ye felt the long road ahead. Leveling up was far harder than becoming a full inspector.

But he had a hunch the collector could charge through other means, not just electricity.

In this environment, though, electricity was the only energy source he could access.

Only after establishing himself in the buffer zone could he explore other energy sources for the collector.

“To speed up leveling, as the evaluation says, I need to focus on searching for transmissible information…”

“But what counts as transmissible?”

Cheng Ye pondered.

When the announcer called “Library Station,” he had a vague outline of ideas, but they’d need multiple searches to verify.

“Mr. Cheng, you’re here!”

As Cheng Ye pushed open the door, Gwen looked up from her small bed and greeted him.

“The books you didn’t finish yesterday are already sorted on the second desk.”

“Thank you, Miss Gwen.”

Cheng Ye nodded, pulling a 10-Happiness Coin from his pocket.

Yesterday, he’d paid 20 coins and hadn’t taken the remaining 10. Now, he offered it as a deposit.

But Gwen shook her head. “No need. The deposit is just to screen guests. Your care for books and respect for knowledge don’t require a deposit to prove.”

“Oh?”

Cheng Ye chuckled, not pocketing the coin. “Then please use these 10 coins to get me some nutrient paste. Saves me going out at lunch and losing reading time.”

“Alright, I’ll heat it and bring it over at lunchtime.”

Despite only one day here, Cheng Ye felt more at home in the library than his own place.

Passing the shelves, he reached the reading area and paused in surprise.

No wonder Gwen placed his books on the second desk, someone was at the first.

She looked like a woman, but her attire was odd.

A large black headscarf covered her head, a mask hid her face, and she wore a rare scavenger outfit in the buffer zone: tattered beast hide paired with flat travel shoes.

Glancing over, Cheng Ye noticed she was reading the books Gwen had recommended yesterday about special infected, with a few stacked beside her.

“Another bounty hunter dreaming of striking it rich?”

Mildly curious, Cheng Ye looked away, discreetly plugged his pendant into the socket, and sat at the second desk to speed-read.

Soon, the sound of pages flipping filled the air.

The woman glanced over, frowning, but seeing Cheng Ye engrossed in reading, not making noise to get attention, she shook her head helplessly.

100 Ways to Counter Infected

Kill Infected Right: Master These 8 Points!

Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Migration, and Reproduction Infected Sources: A Deep Dive

Must-Read for Real Men: Learn This to Save a Decade in the Wasteland

…

A thousand readers, a thousand Hamlets.

People of different temperaments handled infected in vastly different ways.

Some excelled at waiting patiently, others preferred striking first.

Some swore by “never fight close if you can go ranged,” while others insisted “close combat is more efficient, lest reliance on ranged dulls adaptability.”

Each had their stance, perfectly reflected in the survival books they wrote.

Cheng Ye absorbed it all with an open mind, devouring the core insights from each book.

Compared to the diversity of modern perspectives, the wasteland’s views were tame.

Modern folks dealt with what?

Open a short video app, and you’d get a hundred bizarre takes in a minute, dodging censorship with wild creativity.

Discussing hot-blooded anime, even Boruto’s reputation could flip from trash to “audiences lost their fire.”

So, the books’ polarized opinions struck Cheng Ye as almost endearingly stubborn.

Why pit ranged against close combat? Why make waiting and striking mutually exclusive?

Different scenarios called for different solutions, and his job was to sift through all possibilities for the optimal one.

Unknowingly, the sky darkened.

By the time Cheng Ye finished the last book on the first shelf, the wall clock had just struck eight.

Outside, a fine rain began to fall again.

The woman at the first desk had left at some point, her table wiped clean by Gwen, gleaming faintly.

“Raining again, huh.”

Cheng Ye stood, his gaze distant, returning the books to the shelf in order.

Two days in this tranquil library had calmed his restless heart.

But this was still the wasteland.

According to some books, infected tides were classified by scale: Swarm, Tide, Plague, Disaster, Ruin, and Extinction.

Since the New Era began, Extinction-level tides were theoretical, never seen.

But Ruin-level tides had struck four times, each carrying millions of infected, with Old Era earthbound transcendent spirits mixed in.

A sanctuary city, far larger than Happiness City, once tried to stand against a Ruin-level tide in its path.

The outcome was predictable: despite deploying every resource, it couldn’t stop the tide.

In less than half a day, the city fell, its millions contaminated into new infected, nearly triggering an Extinction-level catastrophe.

Fortunately, as it neared that threshold, the transcendent within hit their range limit and retreated.

Humanity seized the chance to break the massive tide into smaller surges, diverting them in different directions, barely containing the disaster’s spread.

“With Happiness City’s current strength, forget stopping an Extinction-level tide—even a Ruin-level would be like a mantis blocking a cart.”

“Before true catastrophe strikes, I need to amass enough strength.”

“At the very least, enough to escape!”