Chapter One: Returning to the Past

Page 1/3

The apocalypse—an event once limited to the pages of novels—had become reality, and it unfolded right at Yang Fan’s side.

A month ago, on a certain night, Yang Fan still remembered watching a film by Yui Hatano when a strange voice suddenly resounded in his mind.

“Congratulations, you have activated the Apocalypse System. You are the 8,888,888th, and also the last, person in Huaxia to activate it. As such, you are granted a super-divine talent: the Save Point Skill. Cherish this opportunity.”

After hearing this voice, Yang Fan sat in shock for half an hour, then rushed to ask his roommates if they’d heard anything. Their replies were curses and ridicule. After pondering for a long time, Yang Fan finally managed to activate the system.

When he called out, “Status,” a panel of information appeared before him.

Era: Era of Peace
Planet: Earth, MZ1001 Solar System
Region: Southern Huaxia
Character: Yang Fan
Class: None
Constitution: 5 (determines resistance and recovery; equivalent to 50% of an average person)
Strength: 6 (determines attack and carrying capacity; 60% of an average person)
Agility: 4 (determines reflexes and speed; 40% of an average person)
Intelligence: 3 (determines special areas, calculation speed; 30% of an average person)
Skills: None
Equipment: None
Combat Evaluation: F Rank (Ranks: SSS, SS, S, A, B, C, D, E, F)
Apocalypse Credits: 0
Talent: Save Point, Super-Divine Rank. Description: You may freely save at any moment, just like in any single-player game. After saving, there is a cooldown of seven days. After seven days, you may revert to a random point one to thirty days prior, as determined by the system. (For first use, there is no limit on how far back you can return.)

Yang Fan was shaken for an entire day, though he cursed more than once—how could his intelligence be only 30% of a normal person? Wasn’t that almost an imbecile?

But the system’s mysteries kept him troubled all day.

Then, at noon the next day, the apocalypse truly erupted.

Page 2/3

A powerful psychic storm swept across the globe, destroying all sophisticated machinery. Any nuclear weapons or powerful missiles—anything launched electronically—were rendered useless, no better than scrap. All means of communication failed. In the blink of an eye, human civilization suffered its most devastating blow.

Yet even that wasn’t the most terrifying part. The worst was the emergence of legendary zombies—one in ten humans transformed. These zombies were exactly as depicted in films: mindless, emotionless, attacking any human on sight. The first-generation zombies moved quickly, and only those infected and turned would stagger slowly.

Chaos erupted across the campus. Many were bitten, and within ten minutes transformed as well. Only after heavy casualties did people learn the zombie’s weakness: the head. Only by destroying or piercing it could they be stopped.

Yang Fan, with a small group, began a desperate escape—he was little more than a burden. Ten days and nights passed, trapped within the school, struggling to survive. Most people perished tragically. Killing zombies did not grant experience, only apocalypse credits, making the ordeal feel like a game—one where you couldn’t level up.

Zombies would also sometimes drop equipment, skill books, or gems, and their bodies remained, as if this were a real-life game with a high degree of freedom.

After overcoming his terror, Yang Fan and his group finally left the school. Fifteen entered; after ten days, only seven survived. They gradually learned the mechanics of this “game” after meeting a mysterious apocalypse merchant—Silent.

From the merchant, Yang Fan learned much, though it cost him fifty apocalypse credits to buy a survival manual. Considering zombies only dropped two or three credits each, fifty was the sum of all his savings from those ten days—but cornered by threats, he had no choice but to comply.

It turned out that to become stronger, besides constant training, one must rely on rare treasures or use potions and elixirs—there were no other ways.

For example, a first-tier Agility Potion could permanently increase agility by 1–100 points, depending on one’s physique and luck, but only after changing class. That was also when one could learn new skills.

The survival manual broadened their horizons, and everyone quickly chose a class. The options were simple: Warrior (purely physical) or Mage, though becoming a Mage required intelligence of at least 7.

But then, a new enemy appeared—mutant beasts. Some were rats from the sewers, others mosquitoes from the sky, all enlarged hundreds of times, some as big as humans, a few even rivaling small hills, though those were exceedingly rare.

They preyed on humans, but also ate zombies. One of Yang Fan’s group was drained of blood by a giant mosquito, but the mosquito was slain by his companions, dropping several pieces of equipment along with valuable experience.

This is where things went wrong. Five people, two pieces of equipment dropped, plus a piece of armor. The strongest took the armor, and of the remainder, only one person was left without any equipment—Yang Fan naturally assumed one piece should go to him and offered the other for someone else to choose.

But the other person took both pieces, leaving Yang Fan empty-handed.

Yang Fan protested, but was beaten mercilessly. One person stomped on his stomach, snarling, “Without us, you’d be dead already. You cowardly burden, you think you deserve equipment? Keep dreaming.”

Only then did Yang Fan understand his place—utterly worthless.

They made their intentions clear: the only reason they kept him was to use him as a shield in desperate situations.

After that, Yang Fan’s life became worse than death—imprisoned, used as bait, suffering endless abuse, their cruelty surpassing that of beasts. Ten days later—today—an even more dreadful race appeared, more terrifying than mutant beasts.

The savage insect race—they could fly at will, feasted not only on humans but also on mutant beasts.

All zombies, mutant beasts, and insect races, like humans, were divided into ten tiers with ten sub-levels each—effectively a hundred levels, with a bottleneck at every ten. So said the survival manual.

Ordinary zombies rarely surpassed level 10, typically ranging from 2 to 5. Only the originals could evolve, and among regular zombies, only two or three in ten could exceed level 10. Any mutant beast could surpass level 10, usually ranging from 7 to 10, but among the insect race, the weakest were already at level 10.

Page 3/3

It was misfortune upon misfortune for humanity.

Blows rained down one after another.

Now, Yang Fan was bound tightly with coarse rope, watching an oncoming swarm of Crimson Flame Beetles. He was terrified—they stood as tall as grown men, with serrated jaws that could easily tear a person apart.

Among them was even one golden-hued creature.

“For our sake, Yang Fan, you’ll just have to sacrifice yourself. These insects love nothing more than fresh meat like yours.”

A handsome young man, his tone sinister, spoke. He was the head of Yang Fan’s dormitory—Qin Ziwen, from a wealthy family. Once, he’d looked after Yang Fan, but now he offered him up like a sacrificial lamb. In that moment, Yang Fan’s hatred burned so fiercely he wished he could tear Qin Ziwen to pieces.

“We’re leaving now.” Qin Ziwen patted his own face, smiling coldly. “Do you know why I was always so nice to you? It was to get close to your woman. Do you know why she broke up with you? Of course you don’t. Let me tell you—remember Su Tao? I had her approach you on purpose and arranged to have your every photo together taken. You thought she was your soulmate? Every photo you took with her, I sent to Bai Su. That’s why she broke up with you. But I never expected that after she left you, she still wouldn’t come to me. When the apocalypse began, I found her and locked her in the dorm—with a zombie inside. Hahahaha.”

Qin Ziwen’s sinister laughter sent chills through Yang Fan’s heart.

Yang Fan stared at Qin Ziwen in disbelief, his heart frozen.

Finally, his face flushed with rage, he roared, “Qin Ziwen, to hell with your whole family!”

“Hahaha, enjoy yourself.” Qin Ziwen smirked, patting his cheeks mockingly. In that instant, everything became clear to Yang Fan. He struggled desperately, but it was useless—he was tied to a chair by these bastards, unable to move.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you! Qin Ziwen!” Yang Fan’s whole body trembled as he screamed, and then the swarm of insectoids reached him, radiating waves of blistering heat. These were level 10 Crimson Flame Beetles, their body temperatures nearly a hundred degrees.

They surrounded a golden insect beast.

The golden beetle lunged straight at him, jaws gaping, ready to bite.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! Qin Ziwen, none of you will die a good death! Save point!” In the face of death, Yang Fan’s expression was twisted with rage. He threw his head back and roared, and the moment the words “save point” left his lips, a blinding light burst from his body, engulfing everything.

...