Sistema do Apocalipse: Começo com Trinta Andares de Suprimentos Estocados
Quando a primeira névoa negra se espalhou pelo parapeito do 28º andar, o frenesi da cidade já havia sido completamente devorado. Mu Chen, separado pelo vidro, observava a maré escura que subia incessantemente, enquanto ouvia do lado de fora o som de plantas crescendo, como ossos sendo quebrados. A tela do celular piscava na escuridão, e os insultos e pedidos de socorro no grupo dos moradores foram gradualmente substituídos por gritos ensanguentados — primeiro, os galhos de árvores gigantes atravessando o vidro e empalando famílias inteiras; depois, o som de cães mutantes afiando suas presas no corredor, um “clack” ameaçador. Ele tocava o canto da parede abarrotado de garrafas de água mineral, ouvindo o sistema contar friamente: “Detectado indivíduo compatível: beleza 8,5 pontos, valor de sobrevivência nível A.” E naquele momento, do outro lado do olho mágico, refletia-se um rosto humano inchado pela névoa negra, com dedos batendo na porta como tambores de sentença: “Por favor... deixe-me entrar...” Sob a névoa negra, não havia mais vivos, apenas “sobreviventes” esperando serem selecionados e monstros em processo de evolução.
Sistema do Apocalipse: Começo com Trinta Andares de Suprimentos Estocados
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Outside the window, black fog was slowly creeping upward. Mu Chen crouched by the window, frowning as he watched the relentless ascent of the dark vapor. The thing was growing too fast. Although his apartment was on the 28th floor, at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before the fog swallowed him whole.
If it were just the fog, he might not have cared so much, but outside, everything was deathly silent. Not a single sound of life could be heard; only the wind howled ceaselessly. The swirling black mist looked as if it intended to drag the entire world into a bottomless abyss.
Mu Chen pulled out his phone and opened the Jinjiang Community Residents’ Group chat, his fingers flying over the screen.
“Mu Chen (Admin): The apocalypse is here. Now accepting applications from fair-skinned, beautiful, long-legged people, requirements: age 18-30, looks at least a 7 out of 10, weight under 100 pounds. Interested parties, private message me now.”
No sooner had he sent the message than the group exploded.
“Building 11, 2704# No Cilantro: Holy crap! Mu Chen, were you dropped on your head as a kid? If you’re sick, just take some rat poison already.”
“Building 11, 1602# Chen Jun: Is this really the time for jokes?”
“Building 11, 1103# Neighborhood Committee, Chen Rong: @Mu Chen (Admin) Please be mindful of your words, and don’t incite unnecessary panic here. Stop spreading baseless rumors.”
Chen Rong, that standard community committee auntie, always liked to meddle in others’ business, even on ordinary days.
“Building 11,
