It all began with the unprecedented anniversary celebration of the holographic game Dawnbreaker.

Dawnbreaker, centered around post-apocalyptic survival, took the world by storm upon release, immersing players in exhilarating battles against zombies and fellow players.

On its anniversary, all players logged in punctually to claim rewards and watch the fireworks.

As the fireworks concluded, the hour neared midnight. But instead of the anticipated dawn, a gentle female voice echoed through the void.

【Dawnbreaker V2.0 Loading… The sun has set. Dawn will never come.】

【Dawnbreaker V2.0 loaded successfully, officially activated! Remember the game rules. One: Once players enter this game, they cannot escape until completion. Two: From this moment onward, player deaths within the game cannot be revived.】

Upon hearing this, players assumed it was a preview for the new version. They also noticed the sun in the sky had vanished, replaced by a blood-red hue, and the light became eerily distorted.

But then they discovered… they couldn’t log out of the game. All connections to their holographic gear had been severed.

If just one or two people couldn’t log out, it might be a glitch with their individual gear. But the entire server being trapped in the game? That was suspicious.

Someone began streaming “escape methods” on the public chat, revealing his real-world identity as the renowned virtual engineer. He claimed his equipment had been modified to force a wake-up and eject from the game in case of emergencies.

Thus, everyone witnessed this player’s death stream.

The player fell from a great height. The moment he crashed and died, he mutated into a zombie before everyone’s eyes.

On the first day of his mutation, he still struggled—one moment emitting zombie-like howls, the next crying out, “Why haven’t I woken up yet?”

By the second day, his organs and skin had completely deformed.

On the third day, he could no longer produce human sounds or retain human consciousness.

Toward the end of the livestream, the system voice sounded again.

【Since you’re already in reality, why wake up? This is reality!】

As more people died and mutated, panic began to spread.

If trapped here indefinitely, wouldn’t they have to survive amidst zombies and wasteland, facing constant resource shortages?

Five days had passed with no solution found. People shifted their focus to survival strategies.

In this situation, low-combat-power players like Jian Xingyi faced even greater hardship.

“Combat power below 100. Does not meet guild retention requirements…”

Jian Xingyi read aloud the notification of his expulsion from the guild, feeling somewhat at a loss.

He glanced at his interface panel.

【Combat Power: 6.】

—It wasn’t just below 100!

The game couldn’t be logged out—this was reality. Death was permanent. To survive now, everyone had to venture out to find food, gather resources, and forge weapons. Combat was inevitable.

With combat power like Jian Xingyi’s… stepping outside the guild and encountering zombies would likely mean being torn to shreds.

He hurriedly resubmitted his guild application.

In under three seconds, the response arrived.

【Guild Administrator 【Rongrong】 has rejected your application.】

Jian Xingyi: “…”

He casually clicked resubmit and sent a private message to Guild Administrator Rongrong, hoping to ask for leniency.

Rongrong: 【Noob with 6 combat power? Get lost】

Yiyi: 【Don’t bother my girlfriend. Get lost】

【You have been blocked by the 【Blue Sky and White Clouds】 guild. Applications cannot be sent.】

Jian Xingyi: “…”

Jian Xingyi felt like crying, but he had no tears left. He reluctantly applied to several smaller guilds, recruiting members.

But after waiting half a day, not a single acceptance came through.

“Sigh…”

With a max combat power of 500, most guilds wouldn’t accept anyone below 100. After all, who wants to drag a dead weight along as a teammate?

But no one could have predicted this day. Jian Xingyi never imagined he’d be transported into this game. Within the game, resources for upgrading combat power, skills, and acquiring items were limited. Jian Xingyi had previously spent all his upgrade resources on improving his management skills.

Why?

Because Jian Xingyi wasn’t a gamer to begin with. But his friend kept raving about Dawnbreaker, claiming it would make him fall in love with the thrill of gaming. After all, the combat system and impact feedback felt so real that it was like military training.

But Jian Xingyi was a complete klutz with two left hands. He couldn’t land a single hit, had zero enjoyment from gameplay, and was too socially anxious to ask anyone for help. He was about to quit entirely when he accidentally discovered… this game also had a management aspect to play, requiring no teaming up or interacting with others.

Management was just a side feature, obviously not fun for most players. It also consumed resources meant for upgrading combat power and weapons—no one in their right mind would waste time on that.

But for Jian Xingyi, this was his first game beyond match-3 puzzles. Everything seemed fascinating.

So while others were passionately fighting zombies, he was buying and growing vegetables, unlocking ingredients and recipes. While others were dueling other players, he was building houses and searching for construction materials.

Jian Xingyi might be the only player in the entire server focused solely on daily life, spending precious upgrade resources to max out his management skills.

The cost? He’d become a complete squishy.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Kicked out of his guild, he was left with only two mangoes as severance pay.

Clutching the mangoes, he pitched a makeshift tent beneath a bare, gnarled tree.

He dared not venture far—this area was dotted with guild bases, likely safer than the open wilderness.

He wandered around the immediate area—literally a barren wilderness. The sky hung blood-red, his feet sank into cracked, dry mud, and withered trees dotted the landscape. There was nowhere suitable for him to settle long-term.

As for venturing farther afield, Jian Xingyi had tentatively explored. Zombies roamed the land, yet resources were scarce. The earth exuded a desolate, stripped-bare feeling, as if everyone had picked it clean.

Fruit trees had been stripped clean; even unripe ones hadn’t been spared. Unless one risked life and limb hunting in high-level maps rarely visited by humans, food was extremely hard to come by.

Jian Xingyi dared not wander too far. He slunk back to his tent, his mind already plotting.

Others fought for resources with their lives, but he was a max-level management player. He could take a different path.

The prerequisite was having a guild’s synthesis station and farmland—tools were the lifeblood of management players.

But now…

Sigh. Jian Xingyi took a bite of a mango.

Come on, good luck.

He prayed.

“S… Ha…”

Whether luck was on his side or not, he didn’t know. But the moment his prayer ended, Jian Xingyi detected movement in the nearby grass. A blood-soaked head emerged from within, emitting a low, hoarse, terrifying cry.

It was a zombie.

Jian Xingyi: “…”

“Haaah!”

The zombie let out a scrap-metal-like shrieking sound as it charged toward Jian Xingyi!

Jian Xingyi’s life philosophy was all about eating the most. Even if he died, he wanted to go down as a well-fed ghost. So, while stumbling and dodging, he shoved the last bite of mango whole into his mouth, choking him into a coughing fit.

It was merely the lowest-tier zombie, moving sluggishly—too primitive for high-level fighters, but perfect for Jian Xingyi.

…Perfect for sending him off!

Waaah… Help me!!!

Jian Xingyi’s mouth bulged with food as he chewed frantically while scrambling to escape.

“Thud!”

His escape attempt ended when he tripped over a tree root. Jian Xingyi spun around in terror, only to see the zombie lunging at him, its gaping maw wide open.

My life is over!

“Whoosh—”

Just then, an arrow sliced through the air, striking the zombie squarely in the head.

Jian Xingyi’s eyes widened as he watched the zombie’s head explode before collapsing.

Jian Xingyi scrambled to his feet. A man in his thirties emerged, bow in hand.

Jian Xingyi glanced at the fallen zombie, then at the man, and stammered, ” Thank you! Thank you for saving my life!“

The zombie was too low-level; the man didn’t even need to draw his gun. The bow and arrow were sufficient.

The man stowed his bow and waved his hand dismissively. ”Ah, no problem! 【Shanhai】 is clearing out the zombies in the area. One slipped through. Since it crossed my path, I finished it off.”

Jian Xingyi looked confused.

Who was Shanhai? Why was he clearing out zombies?

Noticing the blank look in Jian Xingyi’s eyes, the man raised an eyebrow. “You… don’t know who Shanhai is?”

Could he be a total newbie just starting the game?

Jian Xingyi blinked. Should he know?

It wasn’t in the newbie guide either.

“Shanhai is the top-ranked player across the entire server. His guild, 【Grapevine Peak】, also tops the overall strength rankings. So naturally, their guild helps clear nearby threats in situations like this.” After explaining, the man glanced at the mango juice still glistening on Jian Xingyi’s lips and frowned. “You don’t look very strong. Why aren’t you staying with your guild? It’s dangerous out here.“

Jian Xingyi gave a nervous chuckle. ”My combat power is too low… so no guild will take me in right now.”

He’d just applied to every guild recruiting on the public channel list, but his combat power was too low—no one wanted him.

Man: “What’s your combat rating?”

“6.”

It sounded ridiculous, but it was indeed 6.

Man: “Ah…”

Jian Xingyi handed the last mango he’d picked to the man. “Thanks. I don’t have much to offer in return, so take this.”

The man chuckled softly. “Aren’t you keeping it for yourself? Your situation looks pretty dire.”

The man was right. Without a guild, Jian Xingyi couldn’t use the food synthesis station or harvest crops from the homestead system. For now, he could only rely on wild fruits to fill his stomach.

Jian Xingyi shook his head. “You can’t say that. Life is unpredictable. If my time hasn’t come yet, I might find a fruit tree just a few steps away. Look, I got lucky, and you saved me, didn’t I? If my luck really runs out, maybe I’ll be gone tomorrow or even later today. It’s better for the mango to serve a greater purpose with you.”

The man took the mango, meeting the gaze of the gentle-faced, soft-featured youth before him. He smiled and asked, “Without a guild to take you in, what do you plan to do?”

“Just go with the flow.” Jian Xingyi stretched lazily while sitting in front of the tent, radiating a resigned beauty born of weakness and the abandonment of struggle.

The man chuckled. “Well, that’s convenient! My guild doesn’t have many demands. We don’t have grand ambitions—just want to enjoy life before the game bugs get fixed. Interested in joining?”

Jian Xingyi perked up instantly, his eyes lighting up. “Really? Would your Guild President accept me?”

“I am the Guild President.” The man said, opening his inventory and pulling out his in-game riding gear—a basic motorcycle.

He wore a jacket over a shirt, looking somewhat unkempt with stubble on his chin. Paired with his equally unremarkable, system-issued motorcycle, he appeared utterly casual.

He patted the backseat. “Hop on! I’ll take you home. Let me reintroduce myself—I’m 【Heiye】, Guild President of the top guild on the server. We’re also the ones at Grapevine Peak…”

Jian Xingyi’s eyes widened.

Huh?

Heiye continued, “…the Guild President of a small guild next door. Our guild is called 【Long Live For A Hundred Years】. Apply to join.“

”Oh…!“

Being next to a top-tier guild—well, that practically makes him one too!

Pretty impressive!

Jian Xingyi hopped onto the back seat. ”My name is 【Xinghe】.”

The moment the motorcycle started moving, Heiye’s terminal received a message.

He cut the engine and logged into the guild chat channel via his in-game terminal. His expression suddenly darkened.

Heiye hadn’t enabled privacy mode, so Jian Xingyi could see the text projected from his terminal, floating mid-air.

【Long Live A Hundred Years – Admin Channel】

Lone Wolf: 【Just came from the food exchange NPC. The trade failed—the NPC refused to accept our hunted goods. Exchange attempts are limited, and now he won’t let us trade for food or seeds.】

Baizhou: 【Then our food supply will run out… Guild rations end today. I tried buying from other guilds, but they’re either jacking up prices or struggling like us—with no surplus to sell.】

Heiye: 【I’m out with a new recruit. Heading back now. We’ll discuss at base.】

Lone Wolf: 【…What new recruit?】

Heiye: 【Well, I took in a new recruit… They got kicked out of their old guild. Their combat strength is low, so they have nowhere to go. In this situation, being alone out there is like waiting to die, right? I figured they could come here for shelter!】

Lone Wolf: 【Bro… Didn’t you see my message? We’re out of food! Bringing in another low-powered newbie just means another mouth to feed—that’s not right!”】

Feiyi: 【I agree. The guy is pitiful, but we can barely take care of ourselves.】

Heiye glanced at Jian Xingyi, awkwardly closed the external viewing permissions, and lowered his head to continue chatting with them—likely discussing his situation.

Jian Xingyi felt a bit nervous.

He’d already been kicked out of a guild once. Now he’d finally found a new one, but it felt like it was hanging by a thread.

Jian Xingyi thought about the chat log he’d just seen—those people were against it, seemingly because they feared he’d be another mouth to feed, consuming more rations?

He hesitated for a moment, but decided to try and fight for it.

Jian Xingyi said to Heiye, “I… I can prepare my own food! I have food!”