“I’ve surrounded you all! Stop resisting immediately! Surrender and drop your weapons—it’s your only way out!” I shouted at the crowd of about ten million people, but no one so much as flinched.
So, I pressed a button, releasing 50,000 hens from the chicken farm. What happened next remains an unshakable nightmare, one that continues to haunt me.
It was nearly 11 a.m. when the manager suddenly called for a department meeting. I knew right away that my lunch break was doomed. This manager, you see, had a talent for dragging meetings on for hours, often putting everyone into a near-comatose state. Just as my eyelids were fighting a losing battle, threatening to fall shut, I heard an electronic voice in my ear:
“Congratulations, you’ve been selected by the Domination System. In 15 minutes, everyone in the world, except for you, will be shrunk to just 1 cm tall. They will unite to eliminate the only normal person—YOU. All hot weapons have now been locked by the Domination System. Humanity has 100 days to redesign and manufacture new weapons to defeat you. Your objective is to survive for 100 days. Failure means death. If you succeed, you may make three wishes, which the Domination System will grant. Good luck!”
Who’s playing a game with their speakers on in the meeting room? Aren’t they worried about the manager catching them?
I glanced around, but everyone seemed completely unfazed. I checked my phone—it read 11:45 AM, June 13th.
Then, I noticed something strange in the top-left corner of my vision. It looked like a virtual game panel, nearly invisible unless I looked directly at it. When I focused on it, the panel expanded, revealing the following details:
Countdown: 14 minutes and 50 seconds
Task Countdown: 100 days, 0 hours, 14 minutes, 50 seconds
Current Earth Population: 7.933719854 billion
Beside the data was a map, showing a square area about 2 kilometers on each side. At the center was a small green dot, surrounded by a sea of red dots.
I kept watching the virtual panel. The countdown was ticking down in real-time, while the population numbers fluctuated rapidly—sometimes increasing, sometimes decreasing. Newborns were arriving, and others were dying.
Curiously, the map and data followed my gaze. When I looked at the conference table, the panel’s information appeared on it. When I looked up at the ceiling, the panel moved there too.
It was as if the virtual panel was being projected directly onto my retina.
The countdown now read 14 minutes. Whether this “Domination System” was real or not, I’d soon find out.
I needed to prepare.
I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket, pulling out my old spare phone. Using it, I dialed my usual phone.
This was a trick I often used—after all, the manager had a knack for scheduling meetings just before lunch or at the end of the day.
My phone on the conference table started ringing. I fumbled with it, pretending to panic, and quickly hung up.
I dialed myself again, exactly as planned.
Then, I casually picked up the phone, pretending to listen, and apologized to the manager: “Sorry, I need to take this. It’s from home—something urgent might have come up.”
I pretended to answer the call and quickly stepped out of the meeting room, heading straight for the restroom.
Once inside, I quickly devised a plan: I needed to leave City C as soon as possible—at the very least, I had to get out of the city center!
In the restroom, I did 30 high-knee exercises to work up a sweat, then rushed back to the office, my heart pounding in my chest.
Without knocking, I pushed open the door to the meeting room and said to the startled manager, “Manager Zhang, something urgent has come up at home. I need to get to the hospital immediately, but I can’t find a cab. Could I borrow your car?”
The manager, seeing the panic on my face and the sweat on my brow, seemed to believe me, though he hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure you’re in any condition to drive?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, regaining my composure almost instantly.
He handed me the electronic key. “It’s parked in the B Zone on the second basement level. You remember the license plate, right?”
“Of course,” I said, already familiar with it. He often took me along when he went on business trips, so I knew it by heart.
“Take it slow. Don’t rush,” he added. “And the gas might be low. If you pass a station, fill it up so you don’t get stuck.”
“Got it,” I replied, heading toward the elevator. The manager might not be the sharpest businessman, but he was a decent guy.
I found the manager’s black Envision in the B Zone of the underground parking lot, got in, and drove out. As I reached street level, I checked the virtual panel. Only 11 minutes left—I needed to hurry.
I parked on the side of the road and rushed into the nearest convenience store. Approaching the clerk, I said, “I need to buy a lot of things quickly. Could you help me out? Thanks.”
The staff at the chain were quick to respond. Without wasting any time, the clerk said, “You pick what you need. I’ll get it to the counter, and my colleague will scan it for you.”
There were three staff members, so they called over another person to help, leaving one behind to handle checkout.
I grabbed eight 4.5L bottles of purified water, a huge stack of instant noodles, crackers, chocolates, packaged marinated meats, and other high-energy foods. I also grabbed a few lighters, several packs of batteries, two battery-powered flashlights, and a fruit knife.
I wasn’t sure what kind of extreme situation I’d be facing over the next 100 days. They could organize an army to come after me, ambush me while I slept, or worse, poison my food and water.
With seven minutes left on the countdown, the clerk quickly scanned my items. The other two staff members helped bag them as I paid, and every time I finished paying for a batch, they’d carry it to the car.
I noticed a rack of magazines by the checkout and suddenly realized that there might be a major internet outage soon. I needed some paper materials for reference.
So, I grabbed a few recent issues of National Geographic China, Popular Science, Travel Magazine, and a map.
After checking out, I hurriedly packed everything into the car and drove south, hoping to find a safe place in the next four minutes.
At the exact moment when everyone else shrinks, all the cars on the road will lose control and crash into one another until they come to a stop.
It would be absurd if I were to get hit by a car right from the start.
I drove into the parking lot of a four-star hotel, about 50 meters from the main road, with plenty of obstacles in between. It seemed like a secure enough spot.
With only 30 seconds left on the countdown, I held my breath.
If the system was real, the next 100 days would be a relentless chase. If it was just some sick joke, I’d have to figure out how to explain my family’s “hospital emergency” when I got back to the office.
I nervously watched the people and cars around me.
The countdown hit zero, and the electronic voice came through again:
“Mission officially begins. Good luck surviving the next 100 days. The entire world has received the order to hunt you down. They don’t know your exact location, but they can sense your direction. They’ll follow it to find and eliminate you.”
The security guards in the parking lot disappeared in an instant.
Cars on the street collided in a massive pileup, and in the distance, something seemed to catch fire, thick black smoke rising into the sky.
I took a deep breath.
The 100-day escape journey had begun.
My enemy was the entire human race.
At exactly 12:00, every human on Earth instantly shrank to a mere 1 centimeter tall—whether they were Yao Ming (a very tall basketball player) or Guo Jingming (a famous male writer of relatively short stature). In an instant, everyone’s height was reduced to the same size, and they looked at the world around them from a completely new perspective—surrounded by others who were now the same height.
Except for me.
I didn’t rush to start the car and flee. The world was about to spiral into chaos, and people would need time to adjust to their new size. For now, I was safe.
I had a limited window to gather valuable information—whatever I learned here would dictate my next moves.
I stepped out of the car, locked it carefully, and walked toward the security booth in the parking lot.
The booth was unlocked. I pushed the door open and found a security uniform and a pair of black-heeled shoes on the ground, along with a phone lying nearby. Where did the guard go?
I lifted the uniform, finding nothing of interest. But then I noticed the shoes. In one of them, I saw the security guard himself.
Now, he looked like a giant white maggot, struggling in his smelly socks, desperately trying to crawl out. He probably never imagined he’d end up trapped in his own stinky socks, helpless and panicked.
What had once been a 4-centimeter deep shoe edge now loomed like a 7-meter high wall to him. It was clear that, on his own, escaping in a short amount of time would be nearly impossible.
I slowly tilted the shoe, and after much effort, the guard managed to climb out. He stumbled onto the flat ground, still stunned. For a moment, he seemed unsure whether to be shocked by how small he had become or the fact that he wasn’t wearing any clothes.
Then he saw me. After a few moments of stunned silence, he seemed to shout something, but I didn’t hear a sound.
Was it because his voice had shrunk with his body? Or was the chaos around us drowning out his words?
Probably, seeing a giant—what to him would be the equivalent of a 300-meter-high person—sent a jolt of terror to his brain. He didn’t even think to cover himself; instead, he panicked and turned to run.
I pulled out my phone and started the timer.
Ten seconds later, he sprinted with all his might, managing to cover about half a meter. His speed? Roughly 5 centimeters per second. Truly, 5 centimeters per second?
The security booth’s threshold was about 2 centimeters high. He stopped in front of it, probably wishing he had learned how to skip classes and climb walls back in school, since now he was facing a seemingly impossible obstacle.
But I knew that if he had more time, he’d figure something out. He could collect nearby debris to stack up and climb over the threshold. He could also tear a piece of string from his clothes—or his stinky socks—and make a rope to lower himself to the ground.
After gathering the necessary intel, I didn’t waste any more time. I returned to the car, started the engine, and headed south.
The streets were a mess—cars were wrecked, some had crashed into trees, others into buildings.
I could only drive slowly, carefully weaving through the wrecks. Sometimes, I had to drive onto the sidewalk just to keep moving.
The tiny people trapped in their cars couldn’t even open the doors. Even if they survived the crashes, I couldn’t imagine how they would escape. They had no strength left to free themselves.
I passed a gas station, parked, and filled the car up myself. Then, I quickly drove off.
In a few days, I wouldn’t dare to return to the gas station. Who knew if some tiny person might be hiding there, waiting to set fire to the place when I came for gas?
As I gradually left the city center, the number of abandoned cars thinned out, and the road conditions improved. My tense nerves finally began to relax.
I pulled up the virtual panel and noticed the data had already changed drastically:
Task Countdown: 99 days, 23 hours, 30 minutes, 07 seconds
Current World Population: 7,257,951,748
Cause of Death Breakdown:
- Car Accidents: 38,574,962
- Falls: 31,958,477
- Asphyxiation: 27,965,841
- Burned to Death: 21,578,962
…
Good grief, in just half an hour, billions of people had already disappeared. The list of causes seemed endless—everything from “stinking to death,” to “fright-induced death,” to “being crushed by phones.”
And just a reminder:
Don’t play on your phone while shrinking.
It’s true—smoking really is harmful to your health.
…
The population was still rapidly dwindling. For a moment, I thought I could just find a place to sit back, eat, and relax for 100 days and win by default.
But then logic kicked in. Human civilization has lasted this long because we, as highly intelligent beings, know how to adapt and use tools to shape our environment.
In these 100 days, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of weapons they might invent to take me down.
Ten minutes later, I parked the black Envision by the side of the road and looked at a large outdoor equipment store in front of me. I pulled up the virtual panel again and checked the map.
The green dot in the center represented me, surrounded by a sea of red dots, each one representing another person. Most of the red dots were completely still.
If most people had adjusted to their new size, I wouldn’t have dared to go inside. There were so many tools in the store that could be used against me, and if a few hundred people teamed up to set a trap, I’d be in trouble.
But for now, it seemed safe to enter.
The massive store was completely empty—well, not exactly empty. Clothes and shoes were scattered across the floor, suggesting that many people must have been inside when the shrinking occurred. But where had they gone?
I didn’t have time to wonder about that. I needed to grab whatever I could that might be useful.
I already had a rough plan in mind: head to the highlands, find a remote area, and go somewhere cold.
If only I knew how to sail and had some sea experience—I’d definitely head east, find a boat, and disappear. No one would be able to track me then.
The harsher the environment, the harder it would be for humanity to catch up with me.
Am I subconsciously trying to cut myself off from humanity? Eh, it doesn’t matter.
I began filling the shopping cart with useful items: a tent, sleeping bag, moisture-proof mat, down jacket, windbreaker, hiking boots, backpack, walking sticks, water filter, camping stove, gas canisters, cooking pot, windproof lighter, hatchet, utility knife, gas cans, plastic tubing, recurve bow, arrows, water purification tablets, oxygen tank, fishing gear…
The cart was packed to the brim, and I had to make multiple trips to load everything into the car.
Thankfully, the black Envision was a solid vehicle with good off-road capability. When we went on team-building trips, the manager had installed a roof rack, so I could store quite a bit up there.
I packed the larger, lighter items into heavy bags and strapped them securely to the roof with rope.
I have to admit, the zero-cost shopping experience was pretty satisfying.
Once everything was packed, I realized it was already 1:30 PM, and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
In such a short amount of time, I figured no one had come after me yet, right?
I decided to stop at a nearby restaurant to solve my hunger.
I walked into a local Shaxian restaurant, piled my plate with rice, grabbed two chicken drumsticks, two marinated eggs, and even two bowls of black-bone chicken soup.
After all, it’s better to set off on a journey when you’ve eaten and drunk your fill.
Fifteen minutes later, I drove back to the gas station and filled up two gas cans for future refueling. Once I was prepared, I continued south, merging onto the national highway, heading west.
The road conditions had improved significantly. There were fewer cars, and many had veered off the road, crashing into guardrails or rolling into the fields. I drove at a leisurely pace, knowing I was the only one on the road. There were no horns blaring at me, no one trying to cut me off.
More importantly, I was using this time to think about what came next.
Not that I wanted to get ahead of myself, but where would I sleep tonight? Would I be ambushed by tiny people in my sleep? How could I avoid getting killed?
I pulled over to the side of the road and checked the map on my phone. The network was still working for now, but I figured it wouldn’t last long if no one was maintaining it.
Luckily, I still had the travel and geography books I’d bought from the convenience store in my trunk, along with a map.
Just as I was deciding where to spend the night, the phone suddenly rang!
The manager was calling me??
How in the world could a 1-centimeter-tall person even make a phone call? Could fingerprint or face recognition still work? Could he press the power button? Did he somehow manage to input the unlock code on the screen?
I shook off my confusion and answered the phone, but there was nothing but silence on the other end.
“Hello?” I said.
I turned the volume all the way up, but still heard nothing.
Maybe the manager hadn’t reached the built-in microphone yet?
I waited a moment and tried again. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
Finally, I caught a faint sound, but it was so quiet I could barely make out the words. The manager’s weak voice got lost in the background noise.
It seemed that being only 1 centimeter tall had made his voice barely audible. Human vocal cords just weren’t built for this kind of scale.
I could guess what the manager might be trying to say, so I replied, “I can’t hear you right now, and I can’t explain what’s going on. But I have urgent business to attend to. I’ll explain everything in 100 days.”
Then, I hung up.
I got out of the car and stood in silence on the deserted road, gazing toward the distant city, but I couldn’t see anything.
I knew the city was in ruins, with countless people dead in strange circumstances. Many others were trapped, isolated, and helpless. The accumulated knowledge of human civilization, built up over millions of years, was temporarily sealed off, waiting for humanity to regroup and rebuild—no doubt plotting ways to kill me.
I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved that I hadn’t experienced what they had, or resentful that I now found myself in opposition to the entire human race.
The sun sank slowly in front of me, and I knew it would rise again tomorrow, as always. But would human civilization rise again, too?
“Domination System, what is your purpose on Earth? What are you trying to accomplish with all of this?” I asked.
No response.
I picked up a stone from the ground, took a few steps back, and threw it into the sky, as though I could strike down an enemy that wasn’t even there.
The stone eventually fell back to earth.
I pulled up the virtual panel again. The human population was now down to just over 6.9 billion.
Suddenly, I noticed something strange on the map next to the data. A barely visible red arc had appeared just to the right of my green dot.
Could it be?
I sprinted ten meters to the west, and when I checked the map again, the red arc had turned into a crescent shape!
I had been standing near other humans!
I walked back, and the red marks gradually faded, disappearing completely. I returned to my car.
I got in, started the engine, and drove a few hundred meters forward, keeping my eyes on the map in the virtual panel.
There were no red dots behind me.
The conclusion was simple: the tiny person was on my car.
I couldn’t keep driving. Who knew if this person had tampered with the car? What if the brakes failed at a critical moment?
I couldn’t go any further until I found them.
But looking at the car, packed to the brim with supplies, I felt completely overwhelmed.
Finding someone only a centimeter tall among all this? It seemed impossible. By the time I’d checked everything—every item, every corner—it would probably be dark.
I had no choice but to try eliminating things, checking in batches. I popped the trunk, unloaded everything, and piled it up on the ground. Then, driving as slowly as possible, I made sure to keep the speed low—if the brakes did fail, at least I’d be able to jump out safely.
I drove a bit further before stopping again. This time, I emptied the backseat and passenger seat, stacking the contents on the ground. I kept moving forward.
The little red dot on the map? Still there. Still on my car!
I climbed onto the roof, unstrapped the bag of supplies, and placed it on the ground. Then I drove on.
This time, the red dot gradually started to appear, inside the bag on the roof!
I stopped the car, jumped out, ran back, and opened the bag. One by one, I started checking the items, setting each one aside on the ground as I went.
Finally, I found her.
She was curled up deep inside a pair of outdoor gloves, her tiny, terrified face the only thing visible. It seemed like when I was shopping for outdoor gear, I must’ve accidentally mixed her in with something and brought her back with the supplies.
Now what?
We were on a stretch of road with nothing around—not a village in sight, no town for miles. If I left her here, she wouldn’t last long. Even though people were dying constantly, it felt wrong to think that someone might die because of my mistake. At the very least, I had to find a safer place before letting her go.
I reached to take her out of the glove, but she panicked and scrambled even deeper into it.
I couldn’t help but smirk. The glove wasn’t that big—where could she hide?
Gently, I opened my palm, tilted the glove, and shook it carefully, trying not to hurt her. Slowly, she fell out.
Then it hit me.
I’d forgotten—these people were shrinking, but their clothes didn’t shrink with them. The girl was completely naked, covering herself with her tiny hands, trying to hide. I could barely see anything, but her small form still made me blush.
I quickly laid her on a blanket, ripped off a small piece of tissue, and handed it to her, offering it like a towel. “I won’t hurt you,” I said, my voice a little unsteady as I blushed. “But I can’t let you go yet. It’s not safe here. Do you understand?”
Her tiny face seemed to move, as if she was speaking, but I couldn’t hear anything.
“I can’t hear you,” I added. “You’ll have to nod or shake your head.”
She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, then, realizing that might not be enough for me to notice, she nodded more vigorously.
What was I going to do next?
How could I find her clothes?
I couldn’t just let her wear tissues as makeshift clothes forever, could I?
Were there any tiny dolls—about one centimeter tall—with actual clothes? Never mind. I’d figure that out later. For now, I had to focus on getting out of here, and maybe when I passed a town, I’d be able to figure something out.
So, I grabbed a clear plastic biscuit tin, ate the last of the biscuits inside, wiped it clean with a tissue, and lined it with two handkerchiefs. I laid them flat in the bottom of the tin.
She understood what I meant and, with great effort, climbed inside.
I placed the tin in the cup holder next to the driver’s seat, then got out of the car to gather the rest of the supplies and reload them.
Since I wasn’t in such a rush this time, I took the extra time to organize everything neatly. To my surprise, I managed to clear out a surprising amount of space in the car.
By late afternoon, we were finally back on the road, heading toward a lake about 30 kilometers away.
A lone car slowly made its way through the packed highway.
As we passed a small town, I grabbed the bottle with the girl inside and walked into a toy store. Setting her down on the counter, I began to search for something.
My goal was simple: find a doll small enough to steal its clothes and give them to her. But after digging through a pile of high-quality imitation Barbie dolls, I couldn’t find a single one that would fit.
That was when I spotted some tiny keychains hanging from a shelf. They were miniature dolls, and their clothes looked like they might work. I carefully took a few outfits off and placed them in the plastic bottle for her to choose from.
She held each little piece of clothing up and tried it against her body, then stared at me blankly.
What was she waiting for?
I stared back at her, just as confused.
She waved the tiny skirt at me, then at me again.
Was she asking for my opinion on it?
I vaguely remembered that the skirt came from a teddy bear doll, so I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell her.
She grew impatient, stamping her feet and spinning around. A few seconds later, she turned back, pointing at me.
It clicked. I turned around to give her some privacy to change.
Honestly, I didn’t think it was necessary. She could just put the skirt on, and once it was on, I could pull the tissue out from inside and toss it away.
Problem solved, right?
I quietly gave myself a mental high-five for my cleverness.
The toy store had a lot of stuff, so I wandered around, hoping to find something that might help solve our communication problem.
In the toy section, I found a small metal trumpet. It was just a 10-centimeter model, but it looked almost identical to a real instrument.
I wasn’t planning to have her play the trumpet or use it for Morse code or anything.
Then, in the stationery aisle, I picked up an exacto knife, sliced off the bell of the model trumpet, and wrapped the cut edge with tape. I poked a small hole in it—and voila, a makeshift amplifier!
At this scale, the amplifier was probably bigger than she was. When she yelled into it, it would probably look like the movie scene where the landlady almost killed the evil god with the giant clock.
Just then, I heard a faint noise—something small colliding.
I should be in a good position right now.
The tiny people have no weapons or tools of their own, and they’re still struggling to survive, let alone create an intelligence network or battle plans.
But I stayed cautious. One mistake, and it’s game over.
I brought up the virtual panel to check the map. Sure enough, there were several red dots around me, but only one was close.
I didn’t let my guard down. I carefully scanned the area for the source of the noise.
When my eyes swept over the counter, I saw a rat beside the bottle with the girl.
The rat was perched on its front paws, eyeing her curiously. To it, she probably looked too small to be worth eating, but that didn’t make the situation any less dangerous.
I grabbed a nearby toy from the shelf, hoping to use it as a weapon, but then realized the classic “don’t throw stones at glass houses” problem.
I had no choice but to creep closer, hoping the rat would see me and run away without making too much noise, or jostling the bottle too much. If it tipped over and the girl fell… well, from the height of the counter, it would be like a 150-meter drop for her. No exoskeleton like an insect, no protection—she’d be dead for sure.
As I approached, the rat spotted me and, terrified of something so massive, bolted. Its frantic movements knocked the bottle over, sending it rolling across the counter.
I sprinted after it, catching it just before it fell off.
Setting the bottle down carefully, I noticed the handkerchief inside had gotten all crumpled up, forming a cushion for the girl in the center.
I smoothed it out, and while she seemed unharmed, she was obviously shaken, sitting motionless in the handkerchief, still recovering from the scare.
I slid the makeshift amplifier into the bottle. The girl immediately understood my intention.
But there was just one problem—she couldn’t lift the amplifier.
How could she? She was barely a centimeter tall, probably weighed less than 0.1 grams, and the amplifier had to be at least ten times her weight.
Compared to ants, who can lift objects many times their own weight, human muscle strength just isn’t cut out for this, even on the same scale.
I carefully removed the handkerchief, along with the girl, and set them on the counter. Using the exacto knife, I poked a small hole in the side of the plastic bottle, fitted the narrow end of the amplifier inside, and sealed it with some superglue.
Once the glue had dried, I carefully placed the handkerchief and the girl back inside the bottle and pressed my ear to the horn. The girl clambered up to the amplifier, struggling with all her might to shout:
“Help! There’s a HUGE RAT!!!”
Despite her best effort—and with the help of the metal amplifier—her voice still came out no louder than a mosquito’s buzz.
But at least we could communicate now.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Shh! Keep it down!” she snapped.
I whispered, “What’s your name?”
“Zhang Ting.”
She began scribbling on the side of the bottle with her tiny hands.
I guessed I’d need a microscope to read what she wrote.
“Your name?”
“Feng Chen.”
“Why didn’t you shrink?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, clearly struggling to explain.
“I’m hungry!”
That was easy enough. I pulled a packet of biscuits from my pocket, broke one into small pieces, and handed her a few crumbs.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach the biscuit that was nearly as big as her head.
I crumbled it into smaller pieces and handed them to her. She leaned against my finger, nibbling cautiously.
“Water!” she gasped, likely having choked on a piece.
I unscrewed a bottle of mineral water, dipped my finger in, and offered it to her. She took it from my fingertip, drinking carefully.
I couldn’t help but worry she might accidentally drown.
Once she’d eaten and drunk enough, she seemed to calm down, slowly shaking off the shock.
“I… I need to go…”
“There’s… a rat… here…”
“The rat… it’s as big as Godzilla!” she added, her voice filled with urgency.
I fell silent. I had planned to take her somewhere safe before leaving, but the truth was, for someone like Zhang Ting—someone so small—no place in the world could ever be safe.
The number of humans still alive, according to the virtual panel, was dropping fast. They’d face countless dangers, try to survive, rebuild, restore order, and—eventually—find ways to destroy me.
Zhang Ting, like all the others, was in the same boat.
“But… I have to leave,” I said, my voice tight.
“Take me with you!”
“No, I can’t.” “I know you want to kill me,” I added, my voice steady.
To be continued …
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