After sorting through his jumbled thoughts, a long-lost sense of security lulled Jiang Le into a deep sleep, and he wasn’t awakened until a little after 3:00 p.m. the next day by a gnawing hunger.

Last night, he had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, utterly exhausted, and hadn’t even had time to eat. Now, with the freedom of not having to worry about where his next meal would come from—and the reality that he could eat whatever he wanted—his hunger instantly doubled. What had once been routine was now unbearable.

Jiang Le couldn’t wait for the takeout to arrive. He quickly threw on some clothes and rushed downstairs, barely noticing the people he brushed past in the hallway.

It was someone else whose footsteps halted on the stairs—a resident who lived on the floor above Jiang Le and had clashed with him several times in the past.

Jiang Le was running too fast; the other person’s words—if he’d intended to start trouble—got stuck in his throat, and he could only glare fiercely at Jiang Le’s retreating back.

Panting, Jiang Le walked into the ramen shop at the entrance of the residential complex. His current physical condition was that of a typical, sub-healthy, ordinary person who lacked exercise—there was so much room for improvement.

Jiang Le ordered a large bowl of beef ramen, asked the owner to add extra beef and noodles, and then found a corner table to sit down.

It wasn’t mealtime, so aside from the owner and his wife, there was no one else in the shop.

The couple was both ordinary Level 1s—the norm for the vast majority of people, animals, and plants before the apocalypse. Only a few beasts with extremely high aggression and lethality would be classified as Level 2.

But judging by the physical differences between people, even among Level 1s, there was a qualitative difference in combat ability; at this moment, Jiang Le was clearly at the very bottom of the Tier 1 spectrum, utterly powerless.

Jiang Le pondered what he needed to do next, scrolling through his phone to search for the information he needed, until the shop owner brought his ramen over, at which point he stopped what he was doing.

This shop had been open at the entrance of the residential complex for nearly a decade, and the owner recognized all the regulars. She set down the bowl and asked with a smile, “Not working today?” Jiang Le unwrapped his chopsticks, shoved a huge mouthful of noodles into his mouth, nodded vaguely, and slurped them down at lightning speed.

Work? He had no mind for that right now. However, prompted by the owner’s remark, Jiang Le opened WeChat and messaged his boss directly, stating succinctly that he was quitting. Without waiting for a reply, he closed his phone and focused entirely on the bowl of noodles before him.

The hand-pulled noodles were smooth and chewy, the long-simmered broth rich and flavorful, the beef tender and aromatic, the radish slices soft and tender, and the scallions and cilantro adding just the right touch of seasoning… This simple, fresh taste felt like a world away to Jiang Le. The moment he picked up his chopsticks, he forgot everything around him. It wasn’t until he had finished every last bite of noodles and soup that Jiang Le looked up again.

Thinking that in just a few months, a bowl of noodles like this would become an unattainable delicacy, Jiang Le called out to the owner in the back: “Owner, give me five more large bowls of beef ramen to go.”

Carrying the five heavy bowls of noodles as he turned into the residential complex, Jiang Le passed through a dense grove of trees. With a slight shift in his thoughts, the bags in his hands vanished instantly, stored away in the system space. By the time he emerged from the grove, his hands were empty.

Back at his doorstep, a delivery box sat on the doormat.

It contained the vegetable seeds Jiang Le had ordered on a shopping app before going to sleep early that morning. Since he’d selected the platform’s own store when making the purchase, the delivery was extremely fast.

Jiang Le bent down, picked up the package, and walked inside.

The laptop on his desk was playing domestic news, but the room was empty except for the open delivery box; Jiang Le was currently in the farm space.

His goal was clear: before the meteorite struck, he would gain experience through mass cultivation to raise both his own and the system’s levels as much as possible. Only by widening the level gap between himself and future mutated flora and fauna, as well as other superpower users, could he ensure his own safety.

The farm system’s experience calculation is based on the crop’s growth cycle. Experience points are earned with every planting, harvesting, feeding, and picking, with harvesting yielding the largest share. Crops that are difficult to grow and have long growth cycles yield even more experience. Although most non-mutated plant seeds are currently Level 0, since the passage of time in the farm is the same as in the outside world, crops with excessively long growth cycles are immediately ruled out.

For Jiang Le, fast-growing crops are currently the most essential, as they allow for efficient cultivation within a limited timeframe.

Guided by this principle, although Jiang Le had bought every common vegetable seed available online, the only seeds he planned to plant this time were fast-growing varieties like white cabbage, mustard greens, and lettuce. These seeds, which were completely unremarkable before the apocalypse, were incredibly hard to come by in his previous life—not only because even ungerminated seeds could mutate under the influence of meteorite energy, but also because ordinary crops were completely defenseless against the onslaught of mutated plants, often perishing before they could be discovered, making it impossible to save any seeds.

Within the farm system, plants grow at the same rate as in the outside world, but the planting process is greatly simplified. This black soil seems to possess a natural purifying quality; aside from the seeds Jiang Le sows, there are no pests and no weeds. All that’s needed is regular tilling, watering, and fertilizing, and the fertilizer required for non-mutated crops is the same common fertilizer found outside.

The initial farm has limited arable land, which the farm system automatically divides into fifty one square-meter plots. Each plot can only grow one type of crop. Before cultivation, each plot must be loosened; after sowing, it must be watered. Clear prompts for these actions appear on each plot—for instance, right now, all plots are flashing the words “Loosen Soil.”

Jiang Le retrieved his farming tools from the tool shed and tilled the soil plot by plot until all plots displayed the “Ready to Sow” prompt.

He then scattered seeds into the different plots and carefully watered them thoroughly. There were fifty plots in total. Jiang Le chose to plant the fastest-growing Chinese mustard on thirty of them, while the remaining twenty were evenly divided between bok choy and lettuce—two vegetables that grow slightly slower than Chinese mustard. Planting a variety of crops also helps gain experience; planting the same crop repeatedly yields less experience than planting a variety of crops.

After finishing all this, Jiang Le opened his personal interface, and sure enough, his experience points flickered imperceptibly. As expected, the gain wasn’t much, but it still gave Jiang Le some encouragement—little by little, it adds up, and doing something is better than doing nothing. Jiang Le turned and walked toward the warehouse.

From the outside, the warehouse looked no bigger than a newsstand, but upon pushing open the heavy wooden door, a whole new world unfolded inside—a spacious storage area of at least 100 square meters, with a ceiling height of about four meters. If everything proceeded according to plan, the system was expected to upgrade before the apocalypse struck. At that point, the warehouse’s capacity would expand accordingly, and stored items would be automatically organized in the most space-efficient manner. Therefore, for the time being, there was no need to worry about whether storage capacity would be sufficient.

Not only that, but an electronic display screen is embedded just outside the warehouse door, clearly listing the names and quantities of all inventory items, eliminating any risk of items being forgotten inside the warehouse.

The black soil, freshly watered, glistened with moisture, like a tangible glimmer of hope. Jiang Le paused for a moment on the ridge between the fields, his gaze shifting to the aquaculture area on the other side.

The scale of the livestock area was similarly constrained by the system’s level, with strict limits on numbers: currently, he could raise no more than ten chickens, ten ducks, and fifteen fish. Buying chicks and fry online not only meant long shipping times but also carried a higher risk of disease. Jiang Le decided to go directly to the live poultry market tomorrow to make his purchases.

Stepping out of the farm space, he found it was already pitch black outside. Jiang Le opened his phone and skimmed past his boss’s polite messages urging him to stay—his position wasn’t irreplaceable, and his boss had agreed to his resignation without hesitation.

The only unexpected development was that during this time, Jiang Le also received a text message from his biological father, Liu Jianhua, written in his familiar, slimy, and insincere tone.

Jiang Le’s parents divorced when he was very young. The cause was his father, Liu Jianhua, having an affair during their marriage; his mistress showed up at their doorstep with her child, making a huge spectacle of it among their circle of relatives and friends. Jiang Le’s mother, Jiang Meifang, decisively filed for divorce and, despite opposition from the Liu family, changed Jiang Le’s surname. Relations between the two families became extremely strained, and they almost completely cut off contact.

After Jiang Meifang passed away from illness last year, Liu Jianhua began contacting Jiang Le frequently, with only one goal in mind—he wanted the old house registered under Jiang Le’s name.

At the time of the divorce, Liu Jianhua was found at fault, and the house was awarded to Jiang Meifang. Over the years, the area where the old house is located has developed rapidly, with school districts and other amenities now considered among the best in the city. Although the house is only about 40 square meters, property prices have skyrocketed, and in the past two years, there have been vague rumors of possible demolition. Liu Jianhua shamelessly claimed that he should have a share of the house, constantly playing the family card in an attempt to deceive Jiang Le.

The text message he sent just now was more of the same old story, asking to discuss the house.

In the past, Jiang Le wouldn’t have bothered to respond; he would have simply blocked the number. But now, he had other plans in mind.

To break it down, Jiang Le had over 500,000 yuan left to him by his mother when she passed away. He’d also saved up over 100,000 yuan from his own work over the years, thanks to his modest lifestyle.

Over 600,000 yuan—not a small sum, but not a huge one either. Especially now, as Jiang Le planned to stockpile as many supplies as possible before the apocalypse. His wallet was likely to be treated like a bottomless pit; it was better to have more than enough than to run out in the end.

No matter how prime the location of that old house was, whether it was demolished or not, in a few months, it would be nothing more than a pile of rubble made of steel and concrete. It would be better to find a way to cash it in now.

Jiang Le tapped out a few messages and replied to Liu Jianhua in his usual tone: “Stop bothering me. I’ve already decided to sell the old house.”

He sent the message.

This was purely meant to provoke Liu Jianhua; Jiang Le knew Liu Jianhua wouldn’t be willing to let the house fall into someone else’s hands. Besides, at a time like this, selling the house to anyone else would feel like taking advantage of them. Only by selling it to Liu Jianhua—no matter how much profit he made—would Jiang Le feel that Liu Jianhua deserved to pay the price.

After sending the text, Jiang Le didn’t bother to wait for Liu Jianhua’s reply. He simply slipped his phone back into his pocket and headed out again—he still had things to take care of.

Hai City had an extensive public transportation system. Although Jiang Le had a driver’s license, he usually relied on the subway for his daily commute. But with so many varied tasks to handle today, he decided to rent a car.

He found a rental shop online that offered small vans and rented one that matched his license. After paying, he drove off immediately; this vehicle would serve as excellent cover when he went out to buy large quantities of supplies later.

Driving through the bustling city center, watching the neon lights and traffic flow past the window, Jiang Le felt a sense of unreality. If it weren’t for his rebirth, who could have imagined that modern life—which humans took for granted—and thousands of years of civilization could be destroyed so easily under the pressure of higher forces?

Back home, he quickly washed up. With no time for melancholy, Jiang Le fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

At three in the morning, the alarm clock woke him right on time. After getting ready, Jiang Le drove the rented pickup truck straight to the nearby agricultural wholesale market. This was the peak time for daily fresh produce trading; not only was the freshness of the goods far superior to that of ordinary markets, but the prices were also lower, making it ideal for bulk purchasing.

Jiang Le took a quick tour of the market and found that the produce was indeed crisp and fresh—he’d made the right choice. After quickly checking prices and comparing goods, he realized the market’s advantages weren’t just about cost; storage was also convenient. Common vegetables and fruits like greens, cucumbers, tomatoes, and scallions were all pre-packed in baskets. After purchasing them, he could take the baskets as is and simply stow them in his storage space later.

Jiang Le bought several baskets of various common vegetables and fruits. After paying at each stall, he borrowed the vendor’s shopping cart to push the heavy baskets of produce to his truck. Once unloaded, he took advantage of the visual blind spots around the cargo area to slip the entire baskets of produce directly into the farm warehouse while no one was looking. He repeated this process, shuttling between different sections of the market, and went unnoticed in the bustling crowd.

He worked until dawn, by which time Jiang Le had stockpiled a substantial amount of common fruits and vegetables. Only then did he feel the soreness and stiffness in his arms from the constant lifting. But this ache did not bother him; on the contrary, it gave him a sense of security, as it signified the mountains of food piled up in the warehouse.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jiang Le looked down and pulled it out; the screen displayed the name “Liu Jianhua.”