Chapter One: The Eerie Countdown

The endless red mist blanketed both sky and earth.

Mu Chen gazed at the scarlet haze around him—putrid, mysterious, and terrifying. Those were his first impressions of the red fog. Its thick shroud limited vision to a mere thirty meters; anything farther was swallowed by the crimson veil.

Suppressing the fear welling up inside, Mu Chen withdrew his gaze. He was an ordinary university student who, together with his younger sister, had grown up in an orphanage. Now an adult, he managed to scrape by in Han City through part-time jobs, barely supporting himself and his sister.

Fortune had smiled on him once—thanks to his prodigious memory and tireless self-study, he had been accepted into one of Han City’s top universities. His good looks made him popular at school, and his scholarships, combined with his hard-earned wages, were enough to cover their expenses.

Yet calamity struck without warning. Two weeks earlier, a car accident had taken his legs. The black-and-white diagnosis report made it clear: the rest of his life would be spent in a wheelchair. The blow nearly shattered him.

What helped him hold on were the strange pieces of information that would occasionally appear in his mind. He had no idea if this ability was a blessing or a curse. Now, as he stood amid the red mist, a new message surfaced in his thoughts:

“This is the beginning of an ancient feast. The old age enters its final chapter, until the arrival of a new era.”

The message sent a chill down his spine; his pupils contracted, and the words vanished as suddenly as they had come. His expression grew heavy. Looking at his sister pushing the wheelchair behind him, a flash of worry passed through his eyes.

“The weather forecast didn’t mention anything like this,” Mu Jiu’er said tentatively, pushing him along. “This fog is so strange. Brother, let me take you… let’s go back to the ward, alright?”

Since the accident, his once-lively sister had become unusually obedient, caring for Mu Chen’s every need. Afraid that he had grown sensitive after losing his legs, she even took care to avoid certain words in daily conversation.

“Yes, let’s go back. This mist is unnatural; we shouldn’t linger outside,” Mu Chen replied, loosening the bandages around his body. But his attention was soon drawn away by another message in his mind:

“You realize this is no ordinary fog. Based on the previous information, could this be the onset of the apocalypse?”

His expression darkened.

“The final chapter of the old age? The apocalypse?” he pondered inwardly.

“Do not waste time with unnecessary thoughts! You need to find water and food at once!”

“Water and food?” The urgency in the message was unmistakable.

Without hesitation, he turned to Mu Jiu’er and said in a low voice, “We’re going to the supermarket—now!”

They had barely set off when the vague outlines of a crowd appeared at the edge of their limited vision. As they drew closer, disjointed voices reached their ears.

“I get it! This is a survival game!”

A boy in a junior high uniform leapt up and shouted, “I’ve read about this in novels! They always start by gathering ordinary people and assigning tasks or survival challenges. No wonder there’s no cell signal!”

Clutching his father’s hand, the boy shook him excitedly. “See, Dad? I told you everything would be fine! Your illness will definitely get better! As long as we complete the mission, everything will be okay.” His words tumbled out in a rush.

People around them exchanged puzzled glances. No one responded, but all watched the father and son with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. The commotion grew louder and the scene more chaotic.

Weaving through the crowd, Mu Chen wondered why so many people had gathered outside the building. Passing the entrance to the emergency building, he found his answer: the lights inside were out—the power had failed.

At that moment, an elderly man in a white coat stepped onto the emergency room steps, megaphone in hand. “Everyone, please remain calm! I am the director of Han City Central Hospital. Please stop and listen to me!” He repeated this three or four times before order was gradually restored. Mu Jiu’er, pushing the wheelchair, instinctively halted as well.

Once the crowd quieted, the director spoke again: “This event came suddenly and on a massive scale. You must realize this is a natural disaster! Such a widespread anomaly is sure to attract outside attention. We must face this rationally and wait calmly for rescue.”

With that, the tension in the crowd eased. Though whispers spread among the people, the earlier chaos had subsided.

“Jiu’er, don’t waste time here. Let’s hurry to the hospital’s supermarket,” Mu Chen urged.

His sister’s trust in him was absolute. She didn’t ask why, but simply quickened her pace.

“Hey, you two! Don’t wander off! What if something happens? Don’t make things harder for us!” a doctor temporarily assigned to maintain order called after them.

“Ignore him. Keep going,” Mu Chen said.

As Mu Jiu’er pushed the wheelchair deeper into the red mist, the doctor’s indignant voice faded behind them. “Some people just won’t listen to reason!”

Within minutes, the siblings began ransacking the supermarket. The owner could hardly contain his delight—it was the first time he’d seen such generous customers. With all phones offline and online payment impossible, Mu Chen simply restored his old phone to factory settings and handed it to the owner, asking only for a backpack in return.

Soon, they had a battered hiking backpack stuffed with two 1.5-liter bottles of mineral water, compressed biscuits, candy, and chocolate. Before leaving, they even had the owner pull the city map from the wall and squeeze it into the bag.

The crimson fog lingered, thick and oppressive.

“You think the supplies and water you’ve gathered will barely suffice in an emergency. But are you truly prepared?” The message in Mu Chen’s mind returned, but he did not hesitate. He and Mu Jiu’er were already back at the emergency room entrance.

The noise of the crowd offered him a shred of comfort. As he began plotting his next move, something strange happened in the sky.

A bizarre light broke through the red mist, forming a pattern that drew everyone’s gaze upward.

Mu Chen gasped in shock.

A colossal countdown appeared overhead.

99:59:54

The numbers ticked down with precise regularity.

“What is that?”

“Is that a countdown to the red mist lifting?”

“Oh my god, my baby hasn’t eaten yet! If I stay here in the hospital, my house’ll be torn apart by the time I get back!” a woman with shapely legs shouted.

“What kind of baby is that—already twenty years old?” someone quipped.

“My baby is only two! She’s an Alaskan Malamute!”

“Well, at least she’s big enough to take care of herself for a while,” someone replied offhandedly.

Most people were too stunned by the spectacle above to speak.

“You’ll never see anything like this again—not in a hundred years!” someone marveled.

With no internet, people took videos of the countdown with their phones. Some even suggested heading home, and faint grumbles of discontent could be heard.

“Stay here if you want, but my house isn’t far. If I feel my way back, I should be fine,” one group muttered, gathering together to plan their return.

…