Lin Fan stood frozen in place.
The Doomsday Era wasn't a single catastrophic event—it came in waves. The first wave destroyed all plant life. The second, he now realized with growing dread, would target the world's water sources.
A heavy weight settled on Lin Fan's chest.
If destruction came in waves, was a third wave inevitable? A fourth? What would be annihilated next?
He stood in silence, watching as the scene of devastation stopped worsening. Though the sun now hung dim and pale in the sky, barely more luminous than the moon, it still emitted enough light to pierce the darkness. Lin Fan had never appreciated sunlight more than he did at that moment.
The weak light didn't bring much warmth, but it brought a sense of security.
For humanity, a world shrouded in absolute darkness would truly mark the end.
He returned to the room and glanced at Xin Xin. She was still peacefully asleep, smiling foolishly in her dreams, completely unaware of the crisis unfolding outside.
However, the dog, Xiao Hei, was visibly disturbed. Animals, after all, had far keener instincts than humans. Xiao Hei leapt about the room anxiously, whimpering constantly. It was a mix of fear and confusion.
Click.
Lin Fan opened the door. He needed to see what was happening beyond his home. Xiao Hei followed closely at his heels as they stepped outside.
The moment he did, a piercing wind struck him. It was sharp and cutting like a blade. Thankfully, Lin Fan had anticipated this and wrapped himself in a thick coat. He made his way toward the livestock pen.
The air carried a foul stench of decay, the sort of mildew you'd expect in an abandoned building long sealed from the world. He looked up—the sun, now resembling a dim moon, had its brightness muted by a shroud of cosmic dust. The sky was forever changed.
"Oh my God..."Lin Fan whispered.
The first wave of the Doomsday Era had already rewritten the structure of the world. It didn't just kill plants. It shattered an ecological chain that had persisted for millions of years.
With plants gone, what would animals eat? Livestock, insects—integral parts of the biological chain—would have to adapt to a world with no vegetation. Those with stronger adaptive traits might evolve. The rest?
They would perish.
And inevitably, all of this would affect humans.
The balance of power and survival would change dramatically in the future. The world order as it had once been known was over.
Lin Fan stood deep in thought, then continued on his way.
Inside the livestock pen, nearly half the animals had died. The surviving ones were agitated and restless, bleating and growling in distress.
Lin Fan was not surprised. Though the first wave had supposedly targeted only plants, the dimming sun and plummeting temperatures had killed many of the weaker animals through sheer cold.
It was a sobering reminder.
He couldn't afford to take the system's messages at face value. Every announcement might have cascading consequences.
He turned toward the pen's entrance. The door had been violently broken from the inside. Upon inspecting it further, Lin Fan discovered the largest, strongest bull was missing.
He didn't have time to search for it now.
After a pause, he headed toward the farmland.
The field, once a sea of vibrant green rice seedlings, had turned an ashen gray.
Data appeared before his eyes:
"Irradiated rice. Highly toxic. 98% chance of causing pulmonary fibrosis if consumed. 2% chance of inducing genetic disruption and re-sequencing in the consumer."
"Irradiated soil. Highly toxic. Ordinary seeds cannot grow. Only radiation-resistant seeds can be planted."
Lin Fan felt his heart sink.
This was worse than he had imagined.
The damage was permanent.
From this point onward, the Earth's soil was barren. No more crops could grow. Humanity's food supply would be limited to whatever reserves the government had stored.
Once the emergency grains ran out…there would be no replenishment.
"A 2% chance of genetic re-sequencing…that's terrifying."Lin Fan muttered, staring at the rice stalks.
As a well-educated farm owner, he had learned quite a bit about biology and agriculture.
Every plant and animal had a unique, stable genetic structure. Disrupting it could lead to horrific outcomes.
Like growing a second head.
Or an extra arm.
Mutations.
In rare instances, mutations could result in beneficial changes—like the mythical Godzilla of Japanese lore. Originally just a regular lizard, it had supposedly mutated after long exposure to radiation, growing into a monstrous creature of immense power and intelligence.
But that was fiction.
In reality, 99.999% of genetic mutations resulted in deformities, paralysis, or death. A few unlucky—or perhaps lucky—ones might become unstable monsters, only to die in agony shortly after.
In essence, if a human consumed irradiated crops, they had a 98% chance of dying a slow, painful death.
The other 2%?
They'd become monsters, wreak a little havoc, then die even more miserably.
"These plants are too dangerous. I have to destroy them all..."Lin Fan murmured. It broke his heart. He had sown these crops himself, watered them, nurtured them.
Now they were poison.
Just then, Xiao Hei suddenly began barking wildly.
Lin Fan turned.
Charging toward him was a massive bull, nearly the size of an elephant. Its muscular body burst from its skin in several places, blood oozing as though it felt no pain. Twin jets of misty breath blasted from its nostrils. Each step shook the ground like thunder.
Its eyes were bloodshot, wild with rage.
It was the missing bull from the pen!
But it had doubled in size. Its muscle mass had torn its skin apart. Lin Fan didn't need further proof—this creature had eaten the irradiated rice.
Its genes had been restructured.
It was no longer a bull. It was a Bull-Plus. Or as he half-joked in his mind: Bullzilla.
Lin Fan didn't know whether he was incredibly unlucky or just the opposite. What were the odds—2%? And yet, here it was.
The creature had gained immense strength and size, but lost all reason. Now, it was a machine of death.
The beast charged closer.
Lin Fan's pupils shrank to needle points.
In that instant—
Lin Fan.
In peril.