After leaving the decrepit building, Shen Ge maintained his Invisible state for a distance, ensuring no stragglers followed him before revealing himself.

His conversation with Fang Mingyue had yielded valuable intel—one of the reasons he’d saved her.

Having survived in the ghoul space longer than him, she clearly had skills and information. Despite their ideological clash, she’d shared what she knew.

Time and space distortions? Shen Ge had already suspected as much. Confirmed by Fang Mingyue, he now understood the situation better.

No matter how the ghoul space twisted, its core remained the same: trapping intruders in its labyrinth.

And according to Chongqing branch’s intel, their initial target—the “quirky little thing”—had never been contained.

Thus, Shen Ge faced two major challenges:

* Surviving in this resource-starved, warped space.

* The sheer number of ghouls.

Fang Mingyue claimed there were at least hundreds of ghouls here. Given the pet market’s population, that wasn’t surprising.

In short:

* 1 Tier 4 ghoul.

* 1 Tier 2 ghoul.

* 100+ Tier 1 ghouls.

And that didn’t include those still mutating or evolving.

“Is the time-space chaos due to multiple overlapping ghoul spaces? If so, the core—’No Exit’—should be at the center. Do I have to fight my way layer by layer?” The thought gave him a headache.

But rather than avoiding ghouls, Shen Ge saw an opportunity: farming System Points.

The escalating frequency of ghoul incidents—from once every few years to monthly, now to hundreds in one space—explained why the world had collapsed so quickly in three years.

As for resources?

The System Shop, usually underwhelming, now shone as a true apocalypse store. With an infinite supply at his back, Shen Ge could grind here indefinitely—if the “landlord” allowed it.

Fang Mingyue’s ideals, like Feng Xiuxiu’s, made her an unsuitable teammate. Hesitation in this place was fatal.

Her refusal to abandon the survivors proved her resolve. Cold as it was, Shen Ge respected that.

But he’d only save her once. Her nature guaranteed she’d keep risking herself.

“Hope you make it out alive.”

Walking the empty streets, Shen Ge reflected. As a civilian, he wished for more people like her. But as an elite agent, ruthless pragmatism was key.

Ghouls didn’t grant second chances. A moment’s hesitation meant death.

*”Is the surge of low-tier ghouls tied to the Tier 4 ‘No Exit’? Did its ghoul energy accelerate mutations?”*

Testing the theory was simple: expose animals to high-tier ghoul energy and observe. He’d relay this to Li Xiang later.

[Warning!]

[Host is in a Zone of Tier 6 Ghoul Corruption. A high-tier ghoul has locked onto you. Flee immediately.]

High-tier ghoul?

For once, the System was useful. Shen Ge activated Invisible, slowed his pace, and listened.

The eerie crimson moon provided no light, only deepening the shadows. Twenty meters ahead, a wet gulping sound echoed.

Rounding a corner, he froze.

Before him stood a ghoul—*3-4 meters tall, 6-7 meters long*—its grotesque form unmistakable.

“That’s the ‘cute little thing’ from the briefing?”

The Chongqing branch’s “Teddy” ghoul had grown into a monster.

“Teddy? More like Tyson.”

This was the largest ghoul he’d ever seen. Had it evolved to Tier 3?

“Nope. Bye.”

Shen Ge turned and left. His explosives were spent; his options were rifle spray or melee. Neither appealed.

Ghoul Hounds could smell life but couldn’t see Invisible targets. Without visuals, they wouldn’t lunge at air.

Twenty minutes later, the System warned him again.

“Another one?”

No—he’d looped back to the same intersection.

The massive Ghoul Hound sat ahead, drooling thick, reeking blood. Its head twitched toward empty space, tracking unseen movements.

Shen Ge activated Silent and crept closer. Deprived of sound, the hound’s reactions slowed.

He raised his rifle and fired.

Rat-tat-tat!

The hound roared, spewing a flood of molten blood. Shen Ge dodged, but the attack confirmed his fears:

Against even a potential Tier 3 ghoul, guns were nearly useless. No wonder high-tier ghouls could tank nukes.

Thankfully, the System let him harvest traits early. Without it, fighting evolved ghouls would be suicide.

No wonder my future self needed a squad wipe to beat ‘Silent.’

The enraged hound flailed blindly, spewing blood-lava in all directions. Shen Ge, long gone, watched from a safe distance.

After restoring energy with ghoul cans (17 left, 1700% total), he circled back, confirming the area was inescapable.

Giving up, he found a derelict building, cleared it, and rested.

Twelve hours in, exhaustion set in.

Pre-mission, he’d packed light: a few crackers, water, and no food. Time to test his luck.

“System, don’t fail me now. I need instant noodles!”

First spin:

[G4 Grenade x3]

“Fine.”

Second spin:

[Molotov Cocktail x10]

“Acceptable.”

Third spin:

[M134 Minigun + 1000 rounds]

“You have to be kidding me.”

Fourth spin:

[Flashbang x3]

“Goddammit!”

Fifth spin:

[Ghoul Eye (Trait: Unseen)]

A squishy, green eyeball—like a cat’s but disgustingly moist—plopped into his hand.

“Seriously? I beg for noodles, you give me this?”

But how did it work? “Unseen” implied blindness, yet eyes were for seeing.

Experimentally, he stuck it to the wall.

Squelch.

The eye blinked, swiveled, and locked onto him. The wall itself seemed to watch him.

“Adhesive activation?”

Peeling it off, he hesitated—then slapped it onto his arm.

Same result: the eye blinked, looked around, and stared.

“Skin contact required?”

Gritting his teeth, he pressed it to his forehead.

Instantly, darkness.

Not just blindness—his entire world vanished. Even the flashlight in his hand became imperceptible.