As a modern person, Cheng Ye was no stranger to libraries.

He couldn’t count how many days and nights he had spent hunched over, frantically typing papers.

He never imagined he’d encounter a library in the wasteland.

Though its exterior was shabbier than even some rural elementary school libraries, gazing at it stirred a familiar sense of warmth in Cheng Ye’s heart.

Taking a few steps forward, he pushed open the library’s fence gate.

To his surprise, the gate’s hinges were remarkably smooth, despite its rusty appearance, suggesting regular maintenance.

Behind the gate, Cheng Ye noticed a prominent wooden sign.

Survival Library

This library houses hundreds of books, containing survival knowledge submitted by survivors from across the wasteland, authentic and effective, greatly increasing your chances of surviving encounters with infected entities.

Reading fee: 5 Happiness Coins/hour (20 Happiness Coin deposit required upon entry, no credit allowed)

Borrowing fee: Priced based on the book’s rarity, requires collateral

You may submit valuable information or books. If verified as valid by the librarian, you will receive varying rewards.

“Five coins an hour?”

Cheng Ye raised an eyebrow.

No wonder the passengers on the bus had given him strange looks when he got off.

A day’s work repairing drainage pipes paid 16 Happiness Coins, not even enough for the entry deposit.

A few hours of careless reading could bankrupt an ordinary resident.

Even for an inspector like him, with a monthly salary of 500 Happiness Coins, he wouldn’t dare linger here without restraint if not for the inheritance left by Cheng Long.

“The training ground only costs 10 coins a day, but here it’s 5 coins an hour. Now I’m curious about the quality of their collection.”

Cheng Ye didn’t mind spending Happiness Coins.

Especially for knowledge, if the sign’s claim held true that these books could significantly boost survival odds against infected entities, then let alone 5 coins, even 50 would be worth it!

Following the worn tiled path, he entered the library courtyard.

At the main entrance, Cheng Ye hesitated briefly, then took off his raincoat, folded it neatly, and hung it by the window. He scraped the mud off his boots on the nearby steps.

Creak.

Pushing open the library door, a faint musty smell mixed with the aged scent of paper hit him.

Cheng Ye peered inside.

As expected, it had the unpretentious style of an old-era library!

Three old tungsten filament lamps hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, warm glow.

Two rows of wooden shelves stood neatly aligned, their boards slightly sagging under the weight of yellowed books.

Beyond them was a setup Cheng Ye knew well: a study room.

Four large, sturdy wooden tables, each paired with two solid wood chairs.

Since no one else was present, the table lamps were off, leaving the interior somewhat dim.

“Ahem.”

A sound came from behind the door.

Following the noise, Cheng Ye noticed a desk tucked behind it, with a small bed beside it.

A slightly hunched middle-aged Western woman sat on the bed, her gaze fixed on him.

Seeing no water dripping from Cheng Ye’s clothes and no mud on his shoes, her expression softened slightly.

“Welcome, guest. You’re the only reader today.”

“If you’re short on funds, I can make an exception: 3 Happiness Coins per hour, or 10 coins for a full day’s reading.”

The woman’s face was pale, her gray hair disheveled over her shoulders, hinting at malnutrition.

Yet her voice was gentle, like a spring breeze, lingering softly in the ear, starkly contrasting her frail appearance.

“A discount?”

Cheng Ye was mildly surprised but quickly understood.

The high price posted outside was likely a filter to deter those without basic purchasing power or who didn’t value the library’s model.

Those who made it inside wouldn’t balk at 5 coins.

Offering a discount created a pleasant surprise, and 10 coins for a full day made people feel they’d lose out by not spending it.

“Here’s the deposit.”

Cheng Ye reached into his pocket and pulled out two 10-Happiness Coin notes.

“May I ask…”

“Aisy Gwen. You can call me by my name, guest.”

“Alright, Miss Gwen, I’d like to learn about the types of infected entities and how to deal with them. Which book would you recommend?”

“The first shelf is entirely dedicated to those books. If you’re facing infected entities soon and need quick results, go straight to the third row. Those are concise combat manuals. But I suggest taking the time to read from top to bottom to build a solid foundation.”

Gwen sat up slightly. “The second shelf holds wasteland survivor journals. The first, fourth, and seventh books in the third row contain firsthand accounts of rare, special infected entities, if you’re interested in those.”

“The third and fourth shelves are special survival manuals. Rest assured, every book is valuable, containing the authors’ insights into the wasteland and unique survival techniques. They may not help your current situation immediately, but use one once, and you’ll see they’re worth their weight.”

“Thank you!”

Her detailed response and advice made Cheng Ye realize this was likely due to his care in removing his raincoat and cleaning his shoes.

It seemed the wasteland wasn’t devoid of mutual respect after all.

Cheng Ye smiled inwardly, recalling his grad school days when he was the only one allowed to eat in the library, saving half an hour of cafeteria trips.

That half-hour daily, over months, saved days of time.

Why? Because he’d built a good relationship with the librarian!

The same applied now. Gwen’s guidance saved him the effort of searching and sorting through books himself.

“In that case, I’ll start with the first shelf. Two days should be enough to skim through everything there.”

Pulling out the first book from the first shelf, Cheng Ye glanced at the title, surprised to see familiar Chinese characters.

The Origin of the Infected

The content was exactly what he was eager to dive into.

In the reading area, Gwen had turned on the lights, not the soft warm glow but a slightly cold white light that sharpened his focus.

“The choice of lighting aids reading. If you need tea or food service, just call me.”

“Thank you.”

Cheng Ye nodded, sat at the wide wooden table, and gently opened the book to the first page.

The somewhat scrawled handwriting, with some cursive text requiring focus to decipher, unexpectedly gave him a sense of crossing time, like opening a historical tome.

Do you believe in fate? Do you believe in prophecies? Do you believe in the end of the world?

I never did, but reality taught me a harsh lesson, forcing me to believe in destiny.

On December 21, 2032, in the Old Era, if it weren’t the twentieth anniversary of the Mayan prophecy of doomsday, it would have been an ordinary day, forgotten by all. Even I, an author of apocalyptic novels, only remembered it when I saw related reports.

Oh? The Mayan doomsday prophecy?

Haha, twenty years later, who’d still believe in doomsday? It was just a hyped-up topic for capitalists, like Valentine’s Day on May 20 or Singles’ Day on November 11, destined to be archived in history and forgotten.

But, but, but—it came!

This doomsday arrived twenty years late. That day, at four in the afternoon, I opened my window and saw an unforgettable sight: an enormous glowing object visited Blue Star, its long tail filling the sky, outshining even the sun. Experts speculated it was an extraterrestrial lifeform leaping through a wormhole. I don’t know if that’s true, but its brief appearance changed Blue Star’s fate, tearing apart the fragile veneer of civilization.

Fragments from the comet fell across Blue Star, large and small, sparking a frenzy of pursuit.

Everyone was eager to learn or discover something from these fragments. Nations engaged in open and covert struggles, hoping to unlock technological breakthroughs.

Haha, they did find something: the terrifying S-1 virus emerged!

Carried by saliva and blood, the virus swept the globe in just three months, spreading wildly. Infected individuals resembled zombies from movies but were far more horrifying. A single scratch or bite triggered a terrifying transformation within ten seconds, turning victims into indiscriminate attackers, rapidly expanding the infection’s reach.

Despite humanity’s resilience and the infected’s carbon-based limitations, the S-1 virus raged for four years. Only when the Human Federation formed, sanctuary cities rose, and organized combat units created containment zones was this nightmare temporarily sealed.

Below the text was an illustration of a man with a grotesque face, body tilted, eyes cloudy and white, gums exposing broken canines, drool dripping from his mouth.

Zombies?

Cheng Ye’s brow twitched. Perhaps influenced by movies, he found zombies more troublesome than the bizarrely powerful infected entities.

After all, a single bite meant infection, making crowded sanctuary cities even more dangerous.

Fortunately, per the text, these zombies were still bound by carbon-based limitations.

They could run, but their decaying muscles and bones made them slower than a healthy adult male.

Fearless of death, they became clumsy moving targets, easily trapped by human setups.

Once humanity rallied and formed combat units, the zombies’ doomsday arrived.

Mortal flesh couldn’t withstand heavy machine gun fire.

Incendiary bombs turned even the largest hordes into mere kindling for the flames.

In the winter of 2037, Old Era, when the last S-1 infected was reduced to ashes in an incinerator, grand celebrations erupted across Blue Star. Survivors left sanctuary cities, returned to city ruins, and embraced, weeping, as if proclaiming the rebirth of civilization.

I was fortunate to survive this catastrophe, cheering the end of the apocalypse.

Yet the “infinite energy” the S-1 virus granted zombies sparked greed in some. They sought the secret to immortality, to bypass carbon-based limitations. In secret underground labs, the original virus was preserved and studied. Under human guidance, the S-1 virus abandoned its inefficient wide-spread transmission, focusing instead on pushing lifeforms to their limits.

In the spring of 2041, the S-2 virus was accidentally born!

The unique S-2 virus lost its broad infectivity. Humans required over 48 hours of close contact with the infection source to become hosts. Once infected, humans finally achieved the initial goal, breaking through the genetic limits of carbon-based life.

During this period, giant infected towering tens of meters, speed-infected reaching near-sonic velocities, flying infected, and intelligent infected capable of mental control emerged. But due to fixed transmission methods and humanity’s sustained military strength, the S-2 virus was easily suppressed in just one year and four months, with all infection sources destroyed.

But with one and two comes three and four. After the S-2 virus revealed its evolutionary potential, could humanity truly resist the lure of genetic transcendence?