The possibility that he hadn’t crossed to another world but had instead traveled through time was good news for Cheng Ye.

It meant his roots were still on this planet. Perhaps one day, if he gained enough power to return to the ruins of Yang City, he could find the rental apartment he once lived in, dig out the spare change hidden in the mattress seam, and see the motivational slogans he’d scrawled on the wall for his grad school exams.

Of course, after eighty years and the rise of transcendent powers, who knew what the ruins had become?

Perhaps everything would feel utterly foreign to Cheng Ye, but wasn’t life all about holding onto a sliver of hope?

“If I followed the normal timeline, even if I landed a stable job right after graduation, I likely wouldn’t have survived the S-1 virus seven years later.”

“But the end of the world… Did the Mayans really predict an alien lifeform visiting Earth?!”

Cheng Ye muttered to himself, more inclined to believe it was a beautiful coincidence.

Returning The Origin of the Infected to the shelf, he pulled out the second book and began reading.

Transcendent Diary

A firsthand account of a transcendent, chronicling the entire journey from an ordinary person to someone who abruptly acquired a transcendent item and rose to the peak of life.

Though the text lacked the visceral impact of a video, Cheng Ye could still discern two words between the lines:

Man-eating.

To become a transcendent, one had to climb over the corpses of others.

You had to fight, to seize, or you’d never rise in this world.

Because of this, some transcendents with deep obsessions and unique abilities, after losing their sanity to the S-4 virus, became akin to earthbound spirits.

They were hard to track, nearly impossible to kill, and contact risked spreading infection.

Humanity opted to erase these areas from maps and history, cutting off exploration at the source.

Opening the third book, Distribution of Primordial Infection Sources, Cheng Ye found it wasn’t a sanctuary city map provided by the checkpoint but a world map he recognized, though missing many regions.

For instance, the Japanese archipelago and the entire Antarctic continent were gone.

On the domestic map, Cheng Ye’s gaze sharpened as he spotted a pitch-black block and four orange-red ones.

“Black means no entry, and orange-red indicates extreme danger?”

Like a cracked sponge plunged into water, Cheng Ye greedily soaked up this rare wasteland knowledge.

The patter of rain outside became the perfect white noise, shielding him from the buffer zone’s chaos.

He lost track of time.

The rain eventually eased, heavy clouds parting to reveal a thin ray of sunlight.

His defense comm vibrated with a message, snapping Cheng Ye back to reality.

“Already six-thirty?”

He’d entered the library at nine, and in a blink, nearly nine hours had passed.

On the wooden table, three stacks of books towered half a person high.

Gwen had permitted this because Cheng Ye read so quickly and with such focus.

After randomly quizzing him with two questions to confirm he wasn’t skimming, Gwen gladly allowed him to grab multiple books at once, saving trips back and forth.

“Mr. Cheng, are you hungry? We sell nutrient paste here at the same price as outside.”

Gwen poked her head out from behind a shelf, waving.

“Or if you have other needs, don’t hesitate. The Survival Library offers the utmost courtesy to wise and studious guests like you.”

“Um…”

Glancing at his defense comm, Cheng Ye shook his head with a smile. “Sorry, work’s calling. Thanks for the hospitality. I’ll be back tomorrow to read more.”

“Alright. The rain stopped at four, and I’ve dried your raincoat. It’s in a bag by the door. Just bring the bag back tomorrow.”

“Also…” Gwen limped over, and Cheng Ye noticed her left leg was disabled, explaining why she stayed curled up on the small bed.

“You can go. I’ll put these books back and note down the ones you haven’t finished.”

“Thank you so much!”

Cheng Ye nodded, understanding this was Gwen’s way of investing in him, much like Uncle Dong giving him free nutrient paste that morning.

The real wasteland.

Show the value others care about, and you’d receive the best treatment.

Perhaps one day, these investments would yield tenfold, hundredfold returns, altering life’s trajectory.

Leaving the library, the sky had shifted from leaden gray to clear.

Most of the heavy clouds had dispersed, the remaining ones like crumpled cotton, lazily scattered across the horizon.

A few rays of sunlight pierced through the gaps, one landing on the bluestone slab outside the library, mingling with the crisp post-rain air.

Cheng Ye took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness in his chest swept away.

“Feels great!”

Compared to his body back on Earth, ravaged by years of academic grind, this one was absurdly strong.

A stiff neck, slightly rigid back, and numb calves needed only a brief stretch to return to normal.

But with the clouds still churning on the horizon, Cheng Ye knew the rain had only paused.

Unless a new cyclone formed to push warm air forward, the rain front would linger over Chuan City.

Beep, beep, beep.

His defense comm vibrated again. Having turned off do-not-disturb mode, it switched directly to a call interface.

It was Luo Xiaoxue.

“Hey, Sister Luo, I was just at the library… Okay, okay, I’m heading over now!”

Hanging up, Cheng Ye didn’t wait two minutes before squeezing onto a bus back to the main district.

With the rain gone and the main district’s lockdown lifted, the bus was filled with workers in coveralls, chattering about special plants they’d encountered while clearing land.

Cheng Ye instinctively thought they meant transcendent plants that could grant humans powers, but after listening closely, he shook his head with a wry smile, chiding himself for getting lost in his reading.

After the S-4 virus outbreak, most transcendent plants perished, with only a few achieving symbiosis with infected entities.

These were the “special infected” Gwen had mentioned.

Retaining plant characteristics, they could move but didn’t actively attack humans and were widely distributed across Blue Star.

Rumors claimed their plant parts could still grant transcendent powers without infection risk, so wastelanders scoured the earth searching for them.

Yet, after all these years, no one had reportedly found one or struck it rich.

The workers’ talk of mutated plants was akin to modern folks discussing lottery tickets: everyone knew these weren’t the miraculous special infected, but they clung to a faint fantasy of striking it rich.

“Transcendent powers, who wouldn’t be tempted?”

Truth be told, after learning about transcendents’ might, Cheng Ye’s heart burned with desire.

Unlike ordinary wastelanders who’d only heard of transcendents’ prowess, he had “witnessed” such power.

Well, in movies and anime, that is.

Screech—

The bus’s nearly bald tires squealed on the wet road as the announcer droned, “Happiness Bank Station.”

Cheng Ye stepped off, his second visit here.

The first was the day after transmigrating, to sign for the inheritance left by Cheng Long.

“Little Cheng?”

As Cheng Ye squinted at the bank building in the distance, a gentle female voice called from nearby.

Turning, he saw Luo Xiaoxue approaching with a middle-aged man sporting a slicked-back hairstyle, both looking at him in surprise.

“You’ve gotten so buff in just two months?”

“Huh? Have I?”

Cheng Ye scratched his head, deflecting. “All thanks to Big B. He’s been drilling me every day. Even if I slacked, there’d be some results.”

“Really?”

Luo Xiaoxue eyed him skeptically.

When Cheng Ye had left the inner city’s high walls, she and Liu Bi had gone to pick him up.

In her memory, Cheng Ye was a scrawny, pale, quiet kid who kept his head down.

Now, two months later, the young man before her had shoulders broad enough to strain his shirt collar, with defined forearm muscles and a vibrant, masculine energy. His smile carried a sharp, decisive air that seemed to seep from his very bones.

“Sister Luo, if I was still like before, Big B wouldn’t trust me to handle the north and south gates alone, right?”

Liu Bi was 35, Luo Xiaoxue 34.

With his original body’s age of 19, calling her “sister” might seem odd, but pre-transmigration Cheng Ye was 26, not far off.

“That’s true…”

Luo Xiaoxue studied him for a while longer before suppressing her suspicions, turning to introduce the man. “This is your Uncle Song, one of the Works Department managers. He knew your dad and Liu Bi well. He’ll help you borrow some contribution points for now. No rush to repay; let your Big B cover it for you.”

“Thanks, Uncle Song!”

Cheng Ye called out promptly, and the slicked-back man gave a kind smile.

“No need to be formal. I was comrades with Cheng Long. Little Cheng, if you need anything, come straight to the Works Department.”

“No way I’d trouble you, Uncle Song. Borrowing contribution points today is already a huge help!”

Exchanging pleasantries, the three entered the Happiness Bank buffer zone branch.

Its interior resembled a modern rural credit union, with four service counters, all empty at this hour.

No surprise there.

Unlike freely circulating Happiness Coins, contribution points were tightly controlled across Happiness City’s domain. Every point’s expenditure was recorded and traceable, so ordinary people rarely came here.

For a trainee inspector like Cheng Ye, the borrowing limit was only 100 contribution points every six months.

This was also why Liu Bi had offered exactly 100 points.

“Inspector Cheng, please note: borrowing contribution points from others must be for legitimate, justified purposes and used solely by you. If an audit finds the points were used otherwise, penalties range from double to ten times the amount, depending on the severity.”

As Cheng Ye signed, the clerk behind the counter issued a reminder.