Zhao Dong, the leader of the intelligence team, instantly recognized the manager, and so did Chen Feng.
By then, the enraged crowd had already surged forward, quickly overpowering him. He was knocked to the ground in an instant.
He became the target for all their pent-up frustration. The fear, panic, and pain everyone had endured over the past twenty hours poured out as fists rained down on him.
Chen Feng issued an order to Zhao Dong: “Get the intelligence team to detain him, tend to his wounds, and keep him isolated. I need to speak with him alone.”
The intelligence team pushed through the crowd, dragging the unconscious manager away, leaving two long streaks of blood on the floor.
In the commander system meeting:
“What’s the status?”
“The target is still moving. The mission failed.”
“How did he get away?”
“We need better tracking tools. We’re working on controlling drones, and we’ll update you as we make progress.”
“Operation 1 is a failure. We need to figure out our next steps. Every second we waste means more lives lost. Infants, the elderly, the disabled—people who can’t take care of themselves… They won’t last much longer…”
“We’re in the process of relocating everyone. The target is heading towards a nearby toy factory. Our plan is to take control of the production line and start making tools we can use.”
“We’re researching miniaturized keyboards and mice. If anyone has the relevant expertise, please get in touch.”
“I have an idea. Given what happened today, the target will probably abandon the idea of heading to the plateau. He might even avoid the roads and head straight into the mountains. His current location is too close to the Qinling range. Our vehicles and drones don’t have the range to follow him that deep…”
“So, what now?”
“From the ground and air, we can’t reach him. But we might be able to do something from above…”
“Above?”
“Let me finish. Yes, from above. We could use satellites to target him.”
A heavy silence fell over the meeting.
“Is that even possible?”
“We’ll need to plan it carefully and run some tests.”
“And we’ll need satellite control…”
“Maybe we can ask Country A for help?”
“I have an idea, too. If he hides in the mountains and doesn’t come out, we could start a forest fire and burn him out.”
“This plan seems far more feasible.”
“Let’s refine it.”
…
Chen Feng quietly logged out of the meeting system.
He made his way to the holding area where the manager was kept.
The manager was battered, bruised, and covered in cuts. While not life-threatening, if left untreated, the wounds could become infected and lead to death. With humanity’s size reduced, the threat of infection had become exponentially worse.
“What’s your name?” Chen Feng asked.
“Zhang Wei,” he managed to mutter through clenched teeth.
“Do you have any idea how many people are dying right now?”
“I can see the numbers on the panel.”
“Do you understand that your actions just indirectly caused their deaths?”
“I know.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Zhang Wei remained silent.
“Do you know something we don’t?” Chen Feng’s gaze hardened, locking onto Zhang Wei’s eyes.
…
I was surrounded.
Two kilometers away, massive loudspeakers were arranged in a sweeping arc, blaring continuously, urging me to surrender for the future of humanity, to leave the village and accept my execution.
Leaning on my cane, I hobbled over to inspect the diesel generator and the two stationary drone jammers. I checked them both carefully and confirmed they were operating normally.
The generator powered my “base” and the jammers, which ran round the clock, disrupting all signals within a 4-kilometer radius to ensure no drones could penetrate the area.
The village was nestled at the foot of towering mountains, with a fast-moving river flowing in front. The only way in or out was a bridge.
But that bridge was gone—destroyed by me.
There was plenty of food and water, but the wound on my leg had become badly infected. I feared I’d soon lose the ability to move.
The countdown on my virtual panel showed just 7 days remaining.
I couldn’t die yet.
After sunset, the village plunged into darkness, but soon enough, spotlights cut through the fog, sweeping back and forth across the village.
I tried to sleep, but it was a restless night, filled with tension.
An old-fashioned alarm clock rang every hour, a constant reminder to check the equipment and stay alert for any new movements from the enemy.
At 4 AM, I saw a significant shift on the virtual map.
Countless red dots, tightly packed, crossed the river and began to cluster at the edge of the village. Even more red dots lined up across the river, advancing in perfect formation as they crossed.
They hadn’t rebuilt the bridge. How were they crossing the fast-flowing river, dozens of meters wide?
I didn’t have time to think. I quickly got up and began preparing.
My base is located halfway up the mountain behind the village, connected to the village by only a dirt road. After entering the village, there is a concrete road that leads to a bridge, which in turn links the village to the outside world.
I drove to a section of the paved road at the village’s edge. On one side was a sheer cliff, and on the other, terraced farmland.
I unloaded several canisters of gasoline from the car and opened them, spreading the fuel across the entire stretch of road.
I didn’t light a match. Setting fire to it would be pointless.
Without fire, the road remained a threat. But if I set it alight, once the flames died down, the danger would be gone.
When they neared, they’d be forced to avoid the smooth road, scrambling over the rough farmland instead.
For them, that road would be like a mountain range, covered in dense vegetation and hiding predators that would drain their energy.
Sure enough, they entered the farmland, but that’s where my second trap lay.
However, I quickly realized that they were moving much faster than I had expected. They weren’t running on foot.
So many things were going wrong. I forced myself to stay calm and stick to the plan.
I made my way to the far end of the farmland, where the terrain rose significantly. Looking down, I couldn’t see anyone, but on the virtual map, I saw a vast sea of red. At their current pace, they’d reach me in less than 20 minutes.
Behind me was a pond.
I grabbed a hoe and dug a gap in the embankment, well away from the drainage ditch.
It was the height of summer, with plenty of rainfall, and I had raised the water level in the pond specifically for this moment.
The water burst forth, sweeping away the topsoil and creating a mudslide that cascaded downhill.
On the virtual map, the red area was quickly swept away, leaving an empty patch.
But that wouldn’t stop them for long.
I drove back to the base, my last line of defense. If I couldn’t hold it, I wouldn’t just lose my life—I’d lose everything.
The “base” was actually a chicken farm.
After I was injured and sought refuge here, my physical condition made it impossible to scale the mountains, and with enemies on my tail, I had no choice but to turn this place into my stronghold.
Unlike modern chicken farms, this one consisted of just a few large sheds. During the day, the chickens were free to roam and forage. In the evening, I scattered feed in front of the sheds, and the chickens would return on their own to sleep inside.
The chickens raised this way were considered free-range, which made them more expensive. The downside was a higher mortality rate, a longer breeding cycle, and a smaller scale. At most, only a few tens of thousands of them can be raised.
I sat in front of the chicken farm, silently waiting for whatever was coming next. Time seemed to freeze around me, each second dragging on, heavy with the weight of what was to come.
As the first rays of sunlight broke the horizon, a glinting swarm of “ants” appeared in the distance. They grew rapidly in number, flooding the streets and spreading like a tide, surging toward me.
“You all have already been surrounded. Surrender now, lay down your weapons, and you might survive!” I shouted at the throngs of people, perhaps in the millions. But not one person reacted.
I pressed the button, releasing 50,000 hens from the chicken farm.
Like students charging the cafeteria when the bell rings, they raced eagerly toward their meal.
The chickens surged into the crowd, pecking at anyone too slow to escape. Their claws scraped the earth, sending dozens of people flying. Heads dipped to feast on anything in sight, and within moments, ten or more were dead, swallowed by the frenzied birds. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare—massive, man-eating beasts hungry for blood.
That image would haunt me forever—a nightmare I could never escape… assuming I even had a future left to look forward to.
But then, something went wrong. One by one, the hens began to twitch and fall, convulsing on the ground. They flailed in their death throes, knocking over more people as they died.
They’d been poisoned. But with their tiny brains, chickens don’t think. They just ate until they dropped.
Still, the chickens kept coming. More poured from the farm, joining the chaos, until the pens were empty.
They fell in droves, as if struck by some invisible plague. The ground became littered with their carcasses.
Despite the overwhelming casualties, the crowd pressed forward, undeterred. They charged at me, fearless—no sign of retreat, as if the very concept was alien to them.
Like pawns on a chessboard, they could only move forward. Once they crossed the river, their threat would escalate.
Suddenly, it clicked. They were just pawns in this game—nothing more.
Maybe I was too.
A group of soldiers fought their way through the sea of chickens, finally making it to me.
I saw them up close. Their small bodies were encased in metallic exoskeletons, carrying micro-rifles.
It was clear. The exoskeletons had boosted their mobility and off-road abilities. They fired poison-tipped rounds at me, trying to take me down.
With the vast size difference, physical weapons were no match for chemical ones.
I grabbed the high-pressure water gun I used to clean chicken droppings and sprayed them back into the flock.
But more teams arrived. The second, third, fourth… They kept coming, lifting their guns and firing. I blasted them back each time, but they kept advancing.
The chickens are thousands of times larger in size than the shrunk humans, thus having an absolute advantage in body size. But against humans armed with intellect and chemical weapons, they were nothing more than instinct-driven, lowly creatures.
As the chicken army dwindled, I realized I’d soon have to face the remaining enemies alone.
Eventually, the water gun ran dry.
I lit several firecrackers and tossed them into the thickest part of the crowd, then climbed into the car parked behind me and sped downhill. I had a small boat hidden near the riverbank at the edge of the village, my only escape route.
As I plowed through a field of dead chickens and fallen soldiers, I saw something chilling. They weren’t attacking me directly. They were going after the drone jammers. Within moments, both devices sparked and short-circuited, completely disabled.
I knew then—there was no way out.
Less than a minute later, a swarm of drones appeared, slamming into my car’s windows and windshield, shattering them. Others sprayed strange liquids, while others released white phosphorus powder. When the two substances mixed, a raging fire ignited, engulfing the car in flames.
I abandoned the vehicle and fled into a nearby house. But as I moved, I realized something was wrong—apart from my wounds, my body was growing numb, weak. I’d been poisoned.
The house quickly caught fire, forcing me to escape to another one. But I didn’t make it. Halfway there, a drone struck me, knocking me to the ground and dousing me in gasoline.
I stopped resisting. There was no point anymore.
They didn’t burn me alive right away. Instead, they hovered above me. Then, one drone slowly descended and landed nearby.
A figure emerged from the cockpit. I strained to recognize him—and then it clicked. It was someone I knew.
“You shouldn’t have run,” his voice crackled through the drone’s speaker. “Countless lives have been lost because of you.”
I couldn’t respond. Some invisible force held my tongue, preventing me from saying what I wanted. “You’re going to die. The world will return to its rightful path.”
“Can it truly return?” I managed to ask.
“…Partially,” he replied.
“Then congratulations, Manager Zhang,” I said flatly, no longer even looking at him. I lay back on the ground, staring at the sky as I waited for death. “Or you can call me Commander 13, Zhang Wei.”
Dawn broke.
I awoke from a long, dark dream, hunched over, stepping out of the damp, shadowy cave. In the clearing, I stretched and yawned.
The morning breeze ruffled my untidy hair and beard, while scattered rays of sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, stinging my eyes. It took a moment for my vision to adjust.
I made my way through the forest, gathering dry firewood, before kneeling at the creek to splash some water on my face. After filling my bottle with fresh water, I turned back toward the mouth of the cave.
I dropped a water purification tablet into the bottle and waited for it to dissolve. Once the water was treated, I poured it through a filter. I pulled down the smoked fish hanging from a tree branch, along with the dried wild vegetables, and added them to the pot with a pinch of salt. Finally, I poured in the filtered water.
Cooking had become a hassle ever since we ran out of canned gas and dried food.
I scraped sparks from a magnesium stick with a small knife and used them to ignite the tinder. Once the fire was going strong, I added twigs, and when the flames flared up, I tossed in a few larger branches. The stove was a simple mound of rocks and clay, with a camp stove’s frame propped up on top to steady the pot. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.
The water was boiling, gurgling noisily, and the lid of the pot was being pushed up and down by the steam, clattering loudly. In the quiet forest, this sound was particularly piercing.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to worry. This was deep in the Qinling Mountains—far from civilization, no roads, no network. As for my exact location, ever since they figured out how to communicate, there were no secrets left. They knew where I was, but they couldn’t do anything about it. I imagined that must have been frustrating for them.
In the past two months, I’d been attacked a few times, the first and most dangerous being a near ambush. Two vehicles tried to trap me between them. If I’d been just a little slower, I might have been run over or, worse, torn apart by more cars trailing behind.
Before entering the mountains, I’d been targeted by a drone that dropped gas on me. Fortunately, the dosage was small, and the car’s sealed design kept me safe, so I made it out unscathed.
But the Qinling Mountains weren’t kind either. I ran into two wildfires. The first started downwind from me, likely because they couldn’t pinpoint my exact location or the wind direction was hard to read. Either way, I got lucky—it passed without incident.
The second fire, though, came up quickly. I only realized it was right in front of me when it spread like an endless line of flames. I dropped my backpack, grabbed only the bottle containing Zhang Ting, and then ran down the hill.
Thankfully, the heavy summer rains, driven by the southeast monsoon, came just in time. The rain lasted for two full days, finally putting out the fire.
The rain was so heavy that I could only take Zhang Ting to seek shelter in a narrow cave. No fire, no food. I managed to scrounge up some biscuit crumbs from the pocket of my trousers. Fortunately, they were enough for Zhang Ting to have a decent meal, washed down with rainwater.
I nearly starved over those two days, too weak to venture outside in the downpour. I feared that the cold would sap my strength and I’d succumb to hypothermia.
I’d heard before that a person could survive three days without water, but up to seven days if they had water. However, the feeling of hunger was truly unbearable. At one point, I became so delirious that I imagined eating Zhang Ting to ease the pain. If she had been the size of a fist, I probably would’ve.
When the rain finally stopped, I shivered as I returned to where I’d left my supplies, desperate to make a fire. My clothes were soaked, and I could already feel the early stages of hypothermia setting in. But everything was wet—no dry wood or grass to be found.
I pulled out the last half-bottle of gasoline and poured it onto a rock. The fire caught quickly, warming me as I waited for my body temperature to recover. Only then did I think about food.
Aside from the fires, I also experienced a strange twist of fate.
One night, I was suddenly jolted awake by a massive explosion. For a moment, I thought it was a missile strike. But when I rushed outside to check, there was no fire, no sound—nothing at all, like it hadn’t happened.
Then I saw it. A meteor streaking across the sky, growing larger as it approached. I realized it was headed straight for me.
I stood frozen, unable to move. Running wouldn’t matter—who knew where it would land?
It finally crashed on a distant peak, sending out a shockwave that made the ground tremble. Strangely, there was no fire.
Was it really a meteor?
Then came another “meteor,” and another. Most of them burned up in the atmosphere, but a few made it to the ground. What was strange, though, was that all the impact sites were clustered around me.
Could it be that that damned system thought I was kind of playing dirty by running up the mountain, and decided to send a shower of meteors to wipe me out?
I turned back to bring out Zhang Ting, who was fast asleep, kindly telling her there was a meteor shower and that she should make a wish.
Zhang Ting was deeply “touched” by my act of always thinking of my friends at crucial moments. So excited was she that she burst out in her native dialect: “I’ll beat the hell out of you! Get the hell out of here! Don’t you come near me!”
We waited until the meteors stopped falling, then went back to sleep. Zhang Ting seemed to be in an especially excited state, constantly sending me gentle and friendly “greetings”, and it was amidst these “greetings” that I fell asleep.
The next day, while wandering through the forest checking my traps, I stumbled upon a “meteor” crash site. There was a large, round depression in the ground—shallow but wide—where the earth had been thrown up, and several nearby trees had toppled outward.
I found numerous small fragments scattered about—pieces of metal and other unidentified materials. Each fragment was no larger than a fingernail.
That’s when it hit me: a satellite had fallen from the sky.
The fall was too precise, too concentrated—someone must have been controlling its descent. But with so many unpredictable factors at play, it wasn’t possible to accurately pinpoint its landing spot. Thankfully, it didn’t kill me, nor did the debris shred me to pieces.
I stepped into the center of the crater and looked up at the sky. There was nothing to see, but I knew that somewhere high above, in low Earth orbit, satellites might still be trying to track me through the dense forest.
I raised my right hand, then retracted four fingers, leaving the middle one pointed directly at the sky—a universal gesture to express my feelings.
Aside from these clear attacks, I’d faced other dangers as well.
Once, a flock of sickly pigeons suddenly flew in. I suspected they were infected with avian flu, so I didn’t dare approach or eat them. Instead, I simply scared them off by pounding on the tree trunks.
Another time, a pack of large, menacing black-backed dogs spotted me. They thought of me as prey and charged at me with vicious intent.
I was armed with a machete, and there were stones around that I could use for defense, but my legs trembled uncontrollably. The fear instilled by vicious dogs in my childhood came surging back, leaving me completely devoid of courage. But in the end, my height and weaponry gave me the advantage. I managed to kill one of the dogs, which scared the others away.
It wasn’t until afterward that I realized why I’d killed the dog: it had latched onto my ankle and wouldn’t let go. I immediately checked my ankle and saw that it had only bitten into the thick padding of my hiking boot and hadn’t broken through.
That dog kept me fed for days, though.
Looking at the “smoked fish and wild vegetable soup” in front of me—what could only be called a questionable dish—I instantly lost my appetite.
I gently tapped the bottle twice to wake Zhang Ting, then set her beside a spoonful of clean water so she could wash up on her own.
Once she was done, I drained the water, wiped the spoon clean, and filled it with fish and broth. After blowing it cool, I placed it in front of her. She wouldn’t be able to eat the wild vegetables—those fibers were like rope to her.
To make sure we were getting some vitamins, I mixed a few vitamin pills into some cooled boiled water and gave her a little as well.
After breakfast, I placed Zhang Ting back in the bottle and started packing up. Glancing at her, I said, “I had a dream last night.”
She didn’t respond.
“I dreamed I was killed.”
“Oh, that’s just great. How’d you die?”
“By my old boss. It was brutal. I was crippled, poisoned, and then burned alive.”
“Pity it was just a dream.”
“It felt so real, though. The details were vivid—I can still remember the scenes clearly. In the dream, I lasted until the 93rd day. I was so close to success, but I failed at the last moment.”
“What’s the point of all that? It’s not real,” Zhang Ting said, sounding a bit disappointed that I hadn’t died.
“Let me tell you, I’m pretty amazing. In my dream, tens of millions of people were chasing me down, and I used…”
I suddenly couldn’t speak. That strange, invisible force from before returned.
I froze.
The last time this happened was when Zhang Ting and I were trying to exchange information about the “final reward.” Could it be that my dream held vital intel?
Was it not just a dream, but a glimpse into the future?
“Stop making things up if you don’t have a clear plan.” Zhang Ting didn’t wait for me to finish, clearly irritated.
I ignored her and pulled out the road trip map from the waterproof bag, spreading it out to look for something. I found the village—it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination; it existed in reality, and the terrain matched exactly what I’d seen in my dream.
“We’re going down the mountain,” I said.
“Down the mountain to die?”
“We’re going somewhere.”
“Where?”
“To a village.”
“If you’re going to die, don’t drag me into it.”
“There’s food at the bottom.”
“…”
“And clean clothes. A bed.”
“…”
“And when your period comes, you’ll be able to deal with it properly.”
“Damn you, hurry up, we’re going down now!” Zhang Ting could hardly contain her impatience. My remaining supplies were running low, and with the sleeping bag squeezed in, my backpack was only about three-quarters full.
Soon enough, we began our descent.
Descending was no easier than climbing, and I had to stop several times to rest and replenish my energy and water. By the time evening came, I had only reached the foot of the mountain. There was still no sign of human settlement, and the nearest road was miles away. But I wasn’t concerned about attacks.
Self-driving cars couldn’t make it this far, and drones didn’t have the range or control to track me this deep in the mountains. But the village I was heading to was over a thousand kilometers away. There was no way I could get there on foot.
I pulled out the road trip map and started searching for a solution. That’s when I spotted a campsite about fifty kilometers away, with an recreational vehicle (RV) park at the end of a road.
It wasn’t ideal to travel at night, so I decided to set up camp right there. I threw together a stew with dried meat and some wild vegetables I’d foraged nearby. After barely managing to fill my stomach, I quickly fell asleep. Yet, that night, I didn’t dream at all.
For the next two days, I made my way toward the RV park, and by the end of it, I was only a few kilometers away.
The RV park was perched on top of a steep mountain, and the only way up was by road.
I hesitated.
On one hand, this place is far from the city and there are no charging stations. There’s a high probability that there are no smart electric vehicles available for them to use in the vicinity. What’s more, these vehicles have been parked for over two months, and it’s uncertain how much battery power is left.
On the other hand, I noticed several spots along the road where landslides had occurred, making the journey even more treacherous. For electric vehicles with no off-road capability, it seemed nearly impossible to make it through.
In the end, I decided to take the road up. I first came across a section where a landslide had completely blocked the road. Using dead trees and rocks, I made sure the path was fully blocked before I felt it was safe to continue.
After living in the forest for so long, stepping back onto solid ground felt like pure bliss. The few kilometers of road passed quickly, almost without me noticing.
I made my way to the camp office, where I raided the small convenience store for long-shelf-life packaged food. I even found the items Zhang Ting had asked for, though I couldn’t quite figure out what she planned to do with them.
Once I packed my backpack with supplies, I grabbed two large bags to carry everything.
The RV park was overgrown with weeds, some of which were nearly as tall as I was. Among the thick grasses, five RVs sat with their doors wide open. Scattered between them were BBQ grills, tables, and chairs—likely abandoned in the middle of lunch when the disaster struck.
There was a trailer-style RV, three B-type RVs made from light trucks, and a pickup truck-based RV.
None of them were the heavy-duty RV I had hoped for.
The trailer and B-type RVs didn’t have the off-road capabilities I needed, so I opted for the pickup RV. It had a large diesel engine and a Ford chassis, with solid off-road and water-crossing capabilities.
The keys were still in the ignition. I hesitated, unsure whether it would start, but thankfully, the engine roared to life. That’s the beauty of a pickup—rugged, reliable, and built to last.
I gave the vehicle a thorough inspection. Aside from the awning being blown off and some grass growing on the sofa by the window, everything else was in good condition. The battery was fully charged, and there were solar panels on the roof.
I even found a gas stove in a drawer on the right side, connected to a 5-liter propane tank.
I quickly cooked three packs of instant noodles and devoured them all at once.
It had been so long since I’d had something this satisfying. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude.
Once full, I scavenged through the other RVs and found three barrels of gasoline and two barrels of diesel. These backup fuel tanks, designed for RVs, could be used for both the vehicles and the generators.
The pickup had a gasoline-powered generator, but its power supply capacity is insufficient.
I found a toolbox in the trailer RV and began dismantling its diesel generator. Of all the RVs, it had the highest output, and since the trailer had plenty of space, the generator wasn’t integrated into the vehicle, making it much easier to remove.
Next, I took the vehicle’s battery and inverter.
Finally, I used a hose to siphon the remaining fuel from the other RVs, separating the gasoline and diesel into different water bottles, which I packed away.
Fully loaded, I drove the pickup RV down the mountain. Aside from the occasional need to get out and move fallen trees or rocks, I powered through any obstacles without slowing down.
After descending the mountain, I veered off the main road, choosing instead the narrow, winding country lanes. With the vehicle’s solid performance, I pushed forward, carefully avoiding any potential ambushes.
“Where exactly are we going?” Zhang Ting had asked me countless times along the way, but I never gave her a direct answer.
“The village where I was killed in my dream.”
“Is there really such a place?” She sounded skeptical.
“There is. And the landscape matches exactly what I saw in my dream. The most important thing is, I’m sure I’ve never been there before. I’ve never even heard of it, let alone seen any pictures or videos of it.”
“It just appeared out of nowhere in your dream?”
“Maybe it wasn’t just a dream. I need to check it out.” I hesitated for a moment before finally sharing my true thoughts.
“You’re crazy.”
“The dream was too real, too bizarre to be just a dream. I need to go. It might help me figure things out.”
Zhang Ting fell silent for a long while, then asked, “You said your old boss killed you in the dream? What was his name?”
“His name was Zhang Wei. He called himself Commander No. 13.”
“What?!” Her voice, amplified through the speakers, became sharp and piercing.
“Why are you so upset? Do you know him?”
“How do you know about the commander?” She didn’t answer my question but instead fired one of her own. I slammed on the brakes and looked at her.
“How do you know about the commander?” I countered.
She fell silent, not answering. Instead, she told me something else: “Your dream is wrong. The real Commander No. 13 is Chen Feng. Zhang Wei couldn’t have killed you on Day 93.”
“Zhang Wei is dead,” Zhang Ting added quietly.
The RV crossed a bridge and entered the village, winding its way through farmhouses, terraced fields, and ponds, eventually reaching a chicken farm halfway up the mountain. The gate stood wide open, but after months of neglect, the chickens had long since vanished—whether they had died or simply run off, I couldn’t tell.
I stepped out of the vehicle and walked around the area, before heading back into the village to explore a few nearby farmhouses.
“Well?” Zhang Ting asked after I had remained silent for a while.
“The details all match. Everything is exactly as I saw it in my dream—except for the living things, the plants and animals. Everything else is identical.” I wiped off a small bench and sat down in the courtyard of a farmhouse, placing the bottle on my lap, facing Zhang Ting.
“Let’s go over your dream again,” Zhang Ting suggested. “You said only the details from Day 92 and 93 were relevant?”
“Yes, the whole thing lasted less than 24 hours. Before that, it was all just a blur. I knew my leg was injured, but I couldn’t recall when or how it happened.”
“But there are still so many things in your dream that don’t match reality. Commander No. 13 has always been Chen Feng. Zhang Wei is dead, he couldn’t be the commander,” Zhang Ting added. “In fact, Zhang Wei had died long before you even had that dream.”
“Yes, that’s what confuses me the most,” I said, looking up at the sky. “The dream felt so real—it can’t have appeared out of nowhere. What’s it trying to tell me?”
I pondered in silence, then picked up the bottle and strolled around the small yard. The weeds had grown taller than the vegetables, so I had to brush them aside to find a few shriveled eggplants and green peppers. Then, I returned to the RV to prepare lunch.
After eating, I asked Zhang Ting, “Is it possible that we’re in a dream right now?”
“A dream that’s lasted for over two months without stopping? Even if it were a dream, whose dream is it—yours or mine?” Zhang Ting shot back.
I proposed a theory: “Have you ever heard of the ‘brain in a vat’ idea? Like in The Matrix, where machines control everyone, connecting our minds to a virtual world through cables. Everything we feel, all of it, is just signals the machines simulate for our brains.”
“How would you prove that?” Zhang Ting replied. “If I remember correctly, in The Matrix, Neo was chosen as the savior by the Oracle. Only then did people from the real world awaken him, and he discovered that the world he lived in was fake. If he’d been left to figure it out on his own, he never would have.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just an ordinary person, graduated from an ordinary school, with an ordinary degree. I got an ordinary job, and I lead an ordinary life. I don’t have any special knowledge or abilities. I can’t make sense of what’s going on in this world, and I don’t know how to fix it. The only thing I do know is that I have to survive these 100 days. I have very good reasons, but I can’t explain them to you.”
Zhang Ting said, “We also have very good reasons to kill you.”
“Yes, I know. Zhang Wei said in the dream that killing me would set part of the world back on track. That must be your reason… Wait a minute!” I suddenly had an epiphany.
Excited, I said, “Try saying out loud why you need to kill me.”
“We’ve tried before, I can’t say it—not even indirectly.”
I insisted, “Just try it.”
“To kill you is the only way to bring the remaining humans back to normal.” Zhang Ting froze, her voice trailing off. “What does this mean?”
“If I’m right, once I fully understood this information, it no longer needed to be kept secret. Or, to put it another way, the secrecy measures failed.”
“So, what’s the reason you need to survive the 100 days?”
“… I’ve tried everything, but I still can’t say it.” I sighed. “Wait, I have an idea.”
I drove back to a bookstore I had passed earlier. After rummaging through the shelves for a while, Zhang Ting couldn’t hold back and asked, “What exactly are you looking for?”
I found a copy of One Thousand and One Nights in the children’s section, ripped out a few pages, and laid them on the ground. Then I opened the bottle, gently let Zhang Ting out, and said, “You’re free now.” After that, I walked out of the bookstore.
I considered the two matters completely separate and unrelated.
The bookstore had no food, and aside from the bookworms, I couldn’t imagine any animal wanting to stay there. After a moment, I returned to the store, placed Zhang Ting back in the bottle, and asked, “Do you understand now?”
“You showed me Aladdin’s Lamp, so after you complete the task, you get three wishes. Am I right?”
“Yes. I plan to use those three wishes to restore everyone to their original forms, including those who died after shrinking.” I suddenly felt a lot more at ease.
I added, “Looks like my guess was right. When I first told you about this dream, I couldn’t speak because I didn’t realize the most important detail at the time. Once I figured it out and realized it was the reason you intended to kill me, I could speak freely.”
“So, in your dream, why was Zhang Wei able to directly reveal confidential information?” Zhang Ting tossed me another question.
“Maybe that’s because there are no restrictions in dreams?” I wasn’t entirely sure.
Zhang Ting analyzed thoughtfully, “Right now, we have two key points. First, based on what we’ve confirmed, your plan seems better, provided you’re not lying and your wishes can actually be granted. Second, that dream appears to be the key to breaking the deadlock. There’s still a lot we don’t understand, and it might hold a secret. If we could gather more information, it would help.”
“Too bad Zhang Wei is dead. Otherwise, we could ask him if he knew anything.”
Zhang Ting said, “Hold on. I was told by Chen Feng that Zhang Wei died. People are dying every day in this world, so why would Chen Feng know about Zhang Wei? Something must have happened between them. I’ll go ask.”
I watched Zhang Ting stand still for a long while before finally saying, “Chen Feng said that before Zhang Wei died, they had a conversation. Zhang Wei tried to speak but couldn’t.”
That caught my attention. “What did they say?”
“Chen Feng doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to discuss it in person.”
“He wants to discuss it, or does he want to kill me in person?”
“I think it’s the latter.”
“I think so too. Is there any way for me to join your commander’s meeting system?”
“No. It’s exclusive to commanders. No one else can use it.”
“What’s his phone number? I’ll find a phone and call him.”
“It’s been two months without maintenance, and you’re still hoping for a decent connection? Forget about voice calls. Most of the world is without power and disconnected. Now, communication between survival bases and command centers only works through satellite networks and the commander’s system.” Zhang Ting seemed a bit smug.
“Looks like I’ll have to ask Chen Feng in person.”
“Are you crazy? He’s nearly killed us several times already!” Zhang Ting’s voice was filled with emotion.
I teased her, “So now you’re on my side? They didn’t know you were with me before, so if they shot you, it would have been friendly fire, right?”
Zhang Ting slapped the bottle in frustration. “Bah! I don’t want to be tied to you! You used me as a shield and deliberately induced me to provide them with wrong parameters to increase the error range of their positioning. Do you think I’m unaware of that?”
“I was going to let you go, but you refused. How is that my fault?”
“You!”
Though I couldn’t see her expression, I guessed she was probably fuming like a bloated pufferfish.
I stopped teasing her and said seriously, “Honestly, I’m a bit confused about where you stand. Do you want to kill me or save me?”
Zhang Ting ignored me.
“Don’t worry. I won’t go looking for him. Tell him to come to the village we were just at.”
“Do you think he’ll come?”
“Tell Chen Feng these words: Prisoner’s Dilemma, Non – conservation of Energy, Ouroboros, Sisyphus, Möbius Strip, Brain in a Vat, Ants and Scientists… These are all I can think of right now. Hope you get my meaning.”
“Wait a moment.”
“Yeah, convince him.” I sat on the bookstore steps, casually flipping through a book.
“Chen Feng agreed. He’ll be here in three days.” Zhang Ting asked curiously, “Did you solve the mystery?”
“No. Aside from Prisoner’s Dilemma and Non – conservation of Energy being clear, the rest is just guesswork.”
“The system is intentionally preventing us from sharing key information. It’s creating the Prisoner’s Dilemma, making us distrust each other. Under the pressure to survive and maximize our own interests, we’re forced to turn on each other.”
“As for Non – conservation of Energy, it’s even more obvious. Nearly 8 billion people shrinking simultaneously—forget whether it’s technically possible, where did the mass go?”
“With these two concepts, I’m going to take another wild guess. If any of these words match what Zhang Wei said, Chen Feng will definitely come.”
Zhang Ting seemed deep in thought after hearing my lengthy explanation. After a moment, she said uncertainly, “So, if he agrees to come here, it means Zhang Wei said something similar to him?”
“Exactly. We’re getting closer to the truth.”
I returned the book to the shelf, brushed the dust off my pants, and headed back to the vehicle with Zhang Ting. “Let’s go, we’ll wait in the village.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to spend these few days rounding up all the chickens and staging a chicken-versus-ant-man battle?” Zhang Ting looked incredulous.
I hesitated before finally saying, “I don’t know if you’ve heard the saying: It takes three days for fifty thousand pigs to be captured by the army… do you think I could catch fifty thousand chickens on my own?”
“So, what’s your plan?”
“No plan at all. I’m genuinely interested in having a proper conversation with Chen Feng.”
She asked anxiously, “What if he really tries to kill you on the spot?”
I didn’t answer, instead asking her, “What number commander are you?”
“Does that matter?”
“You said commanders have authority over everyone within a 50-kilometer radius.”
“Yeah.”
“So if you and Chen Feng are together, who will they listen to?”
Zhang Ting fell silent.
“So, what number commander are you?”
“520.”
“They’re here.” Zhang Ting told me.
I glanced at the virtual map. Several clusters of red dots were gathering—looks like they drove over.
“Zhang Ting, tell them Chen Feng’s car should stop at the bridge to wait for me, and the other cars and drones need to pull back two kilometers.” I grabbed my fishing gear, bucket, and the bottle with Zhang Ting, strolling out of the village toward the bridge. The center of the bridge was blocked with two rows of large stones that I had carried over with difficulty. A car was parked on the other side of the stones.
“Are you not getting out of the car?” I asked.
“Getting out is too much of a hassle.” The window opened, and Chen Feng’s voice came from the car speaker.
“Fine, then we’ll talk like this. I want to know, how did Zhang Wei die?” I set down the bucket, opened the tackle box, assembled my fishing rod, and awkwardly prepared the bait before casting. For convenience, I climbed up onto the bridge railing, sitting with my legs dangling downstream. A long silence fell inside the car, much like my fishing float, unmoving.
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