Outside the University.
The street vendor selling grilled sausages muttered to himself, “What kind of weird weather is this?” as he looked at his empty stall.
The weather forecast had clearly predicted a sunny day, but barely half an hour into the afternoon, a sudden thick fog had enveloped the area.
The university, in particular, was completely shrouded, making it impossible to see what was happening inside. Strange.
Perhaps due to the fog, fewer people were coming and going around the university. Two or three hours passed before someone waiting for a friend or relative realized something was wrong and decided to go in—only to never come back out.
An hour later, the vendor noticed the police arriving suddenly. They set up barricades and dispersed the crowd, forcing him to retreat two or three kilometers away, where he could only watch from afar.
Now this is really strange. What happened that even the police had to get involved?
The vendor had been considering packing up and leaving due to the lack of customers, but now he was intrigued. Instead of leaving, he stood behind his cart to observe.
He wasn’t the only one. The university district was usually bustling with people, and once word spread that something was wrong inside, onlookers gathered along the streets, whispering among themselves. Some were recording videos for DouX and KuaiX, some were just there for the spectacle, while others were genuinely worried.
Like the middle-aged woman standing beside the vendor’s cart. She seemed to have come to pick up her daughter, and after several unanswered phone calls, her growing anxiety was visible.
She glanced toward the fog-covered campus, bit her lip, and then pushed through the crowd toward the university entrance.
A police officer manning the barricade quickly stopped her. “Ma’am, the university is off-limits right now.”
“What’s happening inside?” the woman asked anxiously. “My daughter studies there, and I can’t reach her!”
“We... we’re not sure yet. The situation is still under investigation,” the officer replied.
“Then why aren’t you letting people in?”
“Uh…” The officer hesitated. He was just following orders—he didn’t actually know the details himself.
“Apologies,” a steady male voice said behind her. The woman turned around and saw a man in his forties, dressed in a formal suit, with a calm and gentle demeanor. “There’s been a minor safety incident inside,” he explained. “We’re currently assessing the risks. Please be patient—it will be resolved soon.”
His voice carried such confidence that it naturally put people at ease. The woman, no longer wanting to argue, could only watch as the man stepped past the barricade and entered the campus.
As soon as Li Xiaoyi arrived, staff members approached him. He waved a hand dismissively. “What’s the current situation?”
“According to bystanders, ever since the fog covered the campus, no one has been seen leaving. Those who entered to check never came out either.”
Hearing this, Li Xiaoyi’s expression grew even more serious, his lips pressing into a tight line.
No one had expected a third thick fog event this month—and this time, it hadn’t appeared in some remote, uninhabited area. It had swallowed a university campus filled with people. Even though it was a holiday and there were fewer students around, the incident had still attracted the attention of those in power.
Because this meant the situation was escalating. The fusion was accelerating. Today, it was a university. Tomorrow, it could be a skyscraper. The day after, an entire town—a whole city.
If it reached that point, social order would face an unprecedented crisis.
“Have we sent anyone inside yet? Do we have any intel on what’s happening in there?” Li Xiaoyi asked.
“Uh… not yet,” one of the staff members replied. “We currently have three teams on standby at the base. Two are still dealing with the previous fog incidents. Tang Chen’s team just completed a mission and was resting, but they’re on their way now.”
“So we still have no concrete information?” Li Xiaoyi frowned.
When two worlds overlapped, the first sign was a disruption in the magnetic field, followed by the emergence of inexplicable thick fog. Within the affected area, mutant beasts, foreign plants, and even people from the other world could appear. Worse still, anyone from their world who stayed inside too long might disappear—no one knew whether they were transported to the other side or simply vanished. The situation was incredibly complex.
“Not entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
The staff member hesitated before adding, “A survivor inside managed to start a livestream asking for help.” As he spoke, he pulled up the recorded footage from Tang Xiao’s livestream and showed it to Li Xiaoyi. “Take a look at this.”
Li Xiaoyi took the phone. The first thing he saw was a shaky, lagging camera feed against a backdrop of thick fog. Two young people were partially visible on screen, their faces only half showing as they loudly called for help.
“There are still survivors inside?” Li Xiaoyi let out a breath of relief, but he tensed up again almost immediately—he spotted the shadow of a beast behind them.
At first, he thought these two were doomed. However, the black-haired young man displayed both courage and composure in battle. His movements were steady and decisive, and though his fighting style was clearly untrained—wild and unrefined—his instincts were sharp. For a moment, Li Xiaoyi almost mistook him for one of their own trained personnel sent in for rescue.
The fight was chaotic, the video feed cutting in and out. At times, he could only rely on the audio to judge whether the two were still alive. But Li Xiaoyi remained focused until the end, watching as the black-haired youth finally took down the two beasts and dragged the foreigner away to escape. Only then did he exhale in relief.
“What’s the status of the livestream now?”
“It’s already been taken down and rerouted to our internal channels, but they’ve left that area, so there’s not much more we can gather from it.”
“They’re probably looking for a place to hide. No matter what, we need to locate them and organize a rescue.”
“Understood.”
“Has the video been sent to Tang Chen’s team? They should use it as reference.”
“It’s been sent.”
“Good.” Li Xiaoyi gazed at the fog-covered campus and let out a sigh.
The appearance of mutant beasts meant that this was one of the most dangerous fusion zones yet—even compared to previous ones.
The last time a fog event involved mutant beasts was a year ago. Back then, a small village had been engulfed, and of the seven or eight households living there, not a single soul survived. They either vanished or were torn apart by the beasts.
Now, the ones trapped inside were university students. How many of them would die this time? And how would their families bear the loss?
Inside an off-road vehicle, Tang Chen stared intently at the black-haired youth on the livestream, his expression dark. The young man’s face only appeared briefly at times, but it was enough.
The atmosphere inside the vehicle was heavy. Ever since Tang Chen had watched the video sent from the scene, the mood had been like this.
The vice-captain hesitated before carefully asking, “Brother Tang, do you… know the guy in there?”
“He’s my younger brother.”
“…Ah.”
Everyone in the vehicle immediately understood why Tang Chen looked so grim. Everyone knew that Tang Chen was an overprotective older brother—the type to act calm and composed in front of his sibling but secretly dote on him.
He was constantly bragging about his little brother in the team: how smart he was, what research papers he published, what awards he won. At this point, the entire squad knew that Tang Chen’s younger brother was a scientific prodigy.
And now, that same brother was trapped in a fusion zone—an extremely dangerous one.
Silence filled the vehicle. After a long pause, the vice-captain finally spoke up again, trying to comfort him. “Don’t worry, your brother seems pretty capable. They’ll definitely make it out.”
“Let’s hope so.” Tang Chen forced a bitter smile. He knew how powerful mutant beasts were. Ordinary people couldn’t possibly fight them. And unfortunately, Tang Xiao was just an ordinary person—intelligent, yes, but not trained to survive something like this.
Even though they had managed to kill two of the creatures, who knew how many more were lurking in the university? Those beasts were ruthless and cunning. Once infected by the fungal parasite, they lost all sense of pain—and if they locked onto a target, they almost never failed to kill. Tang Chen had fought them firsthand. He knew just how terrifying they were.
All he could hope for now was that Tang Xiao wouldn’t act recklessly—that he’d find a safe place to hide and wait for the rescue team.
Just hold on until I get there.
Tang Chen took a deep breath and turned to the driver. “How much longer?”
“Almost there. I’ll speed up.”
After leaving the danger zone, Tang Xiao and Lodge moved cautiously through the foggy forest, staying close to the edges of buildings until they finally found shelter in an old building near the cafeteria. They were lucky—they did not encounter danger once along the way.
“This will do,” Tang Xiao said. “We’ve already broadcasted the situation outside. Rescue should be on its way.”
Lodge nodded and knelt down, tearing a strip from his sleeve to bandage Tang Xiao’s arm.
Only then did Tang Xiao notice a fresh wound on his forearm—not deep, but bleeding enough to stain his sleeve red.
“Sorry, I held you back.” The injury was from when he had saved Lodge—a mutant beast had clawed him. Lodge felt deeply guilty. He should have learned some self-defense if he had known they would encounter such danger.
“What are you talking about? If anything, I’m the one who dragged you into this. If I hadn’t insisted on using that strange tree to send out a distress signal, you would’ve been safe hiding in the teaching building. You might not have even run into danger,” Tang Xiao said.
“No, I think your judgment was correct. In a situation where we have no clear information, we should contact the outside world as soon as possible,” Lodge shook his head. “I didn’t stop you because I agreed with your decision. I believed that taking that risk was worth it—nothing more.”
Tang Xiao didn’t argue further, feeling that the discussion could go on forever. Instead, he just smiled, his nerves finally easing a little. It’s fine. This wasn’t a game world. The government here was still strong and reliable. The distress signal had already been sent, so now they just had to wait for rescue.
At that moment, a woman’s scream suddenly rang out from outside.
Tang Xiao: “...”
Lodge immediately stood up, peering out through the window. He spoke softly, “It sounds like it’s coming from the cafeteria… looks like we’re not the only ones trapped here.”
Tang Xiao took a deep breath.
Do we help or not?
Save/load functions only worked upon death now, and there was no pain-blocking system in reality. Every time he died, he would fully experience the agony. What’s worse, each time he reset, the risk of his identity being exposed increased.
After all, if players could detect time discrepancies in reality by observing time loops in the game, then why couldn’t people in reality detect the same issue?
There were always plenty of reasons not to act.
Lodge kept staring at the cafeteria. Through the thick fog, he could faintly see people frantically running for their lives. A trace of hesitation flashed in his eyes.
Just then, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw Tang Xiao grabbing an axe and heading for the door.
“Tang, are we… going in for a rescue?” Lodge was momentarily stunned.
“Not we—just me. You stay here,” Tang Xiao said. “Rescue teams shouldn’t take long to arrive. Find a safe room and no matter what happens, don’t open the door.”
There were plenty of reasons not to save people, but just one good reason was enough to act.
Lodge stared blankly at Tang Xiao’s retreating figure. Gritting his teeth, he quickly followed. “I’m coming too! I’m an adult, at least—I can help!”
Tang Xiao glanced at him but didn’t send him back. There was no time to argue.
Meanwhile, An Xiang was running for her life. She dodged between tables and chairs in the cafeteria, desperately avoiding the beast chasing her. She cursed her luck—this was absolutely the worst.
She had only lost a rock-paper-scissors game and was sent out to grab food for her roommates. She didn’t expect that as soon as she arrived at the cafeteria, a thick fog would roll in. At first, she had just stood there in the lobby, admiring the strange scene. Then, she turned around—and half the people in the cafeteria had vanished.
Vanished.
It was like something out of a horror movie. But before she could process it, a massive rat the size of a Tibetan mastiff had appeared, its eyes glowing red.
A rat. Over a meter tall. Oh, come on.
She nearly had a panic attack on the spot. Crying and screaming, she started running in circles around the tables to keep the rat from catching her. But she was a total shut-in—her legs were already failing her. Worse, the rat was learning. It had started predicting her movements, cutting her off. Her heart sank.
That’s it. I’m done. I lost a rock-paper-scissors game and now I’m going to die—eaten by a rat.
Her strength gave out. Her legs buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, struggling to flip herself over. She looked up—the rat was leaping straight at her.
The next moment, two young men suddenly appeared around the corner. The one in the lead wielded an axe and loudly shouted, successfully drawing the rat's attention. Instantly, the rat abandoned its defenseless target and lunged toward the black-haired youth instead.
Tang Xiao steadied himself, sidestepped to the right, and swung his axe. The moment the rat leaped into the air—completely unable to dodge—he cleaved its head off.
Thankfully, the mutant beasts they had encountered so far didn’t seem to have any supernatural abilities. Otherwise, he had no idea how many times he would have to die before making it through.
This type of mutant rat had relatively weak fur and no extreme attack power. The only troublesome thing about them was their tendency to travel in swarms, with terrifyingly large numbers. However, Tang Xiao hadn’t seen another rat-like creature in the cafeteria, so this one was probably a lone stray.
With that thought, he turned around and extended a hand to An Xiang, who was still sitting dazed on the ground. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, I'm fine! Thank you, senior!” An Xiang, still trembling and on the verge of tears, grabbed his hand to stand up, though her legs remained weak. “I really thought I was going to die… Senior, what's your name?”
“I'm Tang Xiao, a graduate student—though I'm about to graduate soon.” He then glanced at Lodge. “And this is an exchange student from abroad.”
Lodge nodded at An Xiang in greeting.
“Oh, I’m An Xiang, from the Foreign Languages Institute. Thank you both so much!” She couldn’t help but express her gratitude again. “Do you guys know what's going on?”
Tang Xiao and Lodge shook their heads. “We noticed a strange fog suddenly appearing on campus, and by the time we realized what was happening, a lot of people had just… disappeared. Plus, these weird beasts started showing up all over the place.”
“Oh, so it's the same for me,” An Xiang said, recounting what she had seen with the dense fog. When she realized Tang Xiao and Lodge were just as clueless about the situation, disappointment flashed across her face, tears welling up in her eyes. “I really wish this was just a dream.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Lodge reassured her gently. “We've already sent a message to the outside world. As long as we find a safe place to wait, rescue should arrive soon.”
“Oh… that's good to hear.” An Xiang’s expression looked slightly unnatural.
Tang Xiao noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing… I just thought of my roommates. They’re still in the dormitory. But Xiaojun went with me to pick up a package—we got separated, and I don’t know what happened to her…” An Xiang’s worry seeped into her voice as she muttered to herself, “It should be fine, right? Those beasts shouldn’t be able to climb stairs… It should be fine.”
Tang Xiao didn’t respond. The truth was, these weren’t just wild beasts—they were mutant creatures controlled by mushrooms.
He glanced at the thick fog outside the cafeteria and suddenly asked, “Where’s your dorm located?”
“Ah… near the main entrance of the campus,” An Xiang instinctively answered before realizing what he was getting at. Her eyes widened as she looked at Tang Xiao.
Lodge reacted the same way, except his gaze was filled with concern. “That’s really far from here. We’d have to cross almost the entire campus.”
The teaching building where they had been staying was near the west side of the school, while the dormitory was by the south gate—completely opposite directions. The campus was huge, and who knew how many dangers lurked along the way?
To be honest, Loki didn’t mind saving people they came across, but trekking across such a large area significantly lowered their chances of survival.
Could they really pull this off?
“You two stay here. I’ll go.” Tang Xiao took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
Since he had already started saving people, he might as well go all the way.
At worst, he would just have to endure a few more deaths. But these were real, living people—his fellow students.
An Xiang glanced at Lodge, then at Tang Xiao, hesitated for a moment, then stomped her foot. “I’m coming too! They’re my friends!”
Lodge sighed. “I’m coming as well.”
Tang Xiao frowned. “No need. I can handle it alone.”
“Wait—hear me out first,” Lodge said calmly. “Remember our earlier discussion? As time passes, other changes might occur within the fog. Sure, we’ve already sent out a distress signal, but what if something else happens? What if we disappear too? If possible, I’d rather try finding an exit on my own. That would be the safest option.”
What he said made sense, and Tang Xiao couldn’t argue against it. Left with no other choice, he took the two of them along. An Xiang and Lodge each found a suitable weapon in the cafeteria before following behind Tang Xiao. As they moved toward the school gate, they rescued people along the way.
Tang Chen’s squad entered through the west gate near the teaching building and arrived at the spot where Tang Xiao had previously set up his livestream. As expected, no one was there anymore—only two phones were left hanging from the tree branches.
Just in case any survivors were still hiding nearby, they did a quick sweep of the teaching building, confirming that the place was indeed empty.
The vice-captain glanced at Tang Chen, who was barely suppressing his anxiety, and softly reassured him, “Don’t worry. Your brother is smart—he must have found a place to hide. Since they were attacked by mutant beasts here before, they likely moved to another hiding spot. Don’t worry.”
“Mm.” Tang Chen responded with a nod. ‘Xiaoxiao, you have to stay safe’. “Let’s check the surrounding buildings and see if there are any survivors.”
But something was off. As they searched south along the teaching building, they couldn’t find a single survivor.
Where had all the people from Tang Chen’s squad gone?
Had they all vanished? That didn’t seem right. They had found plenty of signs of battle, yet there was no trace of anyone. It was bizarre.
Why hadn’t the rescue team arrived yet?
Tang Xiao’s mental state was on the verge of collapse.
His team had grown to seven people now. After rescuing An Xiang, he had also saved Jiang Xinchun, who had been hiding in the graduate dormitory, and Ming Jingdan, who was sheltering at the package pickup station. In the process, he had reset ten times.
Each death had left behind an excruciating pain that cut deep into his bones. Over time, he had even started getting used to it. He recalled self-hypnosis techniques from psychology and repeatedly told himself: This is just a game. This is just a game.
As if he was simply clearing a level.
Lodge and An Xiang, on the other hand, remained relatively at ease, occasionally looking at Tang Xiao with admiration.
Originally, they had expected the journey to be extremely difficult and full of dangers. They had even mentally prepared themselves for the possibility of dying along the way.
Surprisingly, Tang Xiao seemed to sense danger in advance every time they were about to encounter it. He would quietly warn them to stay alert or assign them tactical positions, such as having Lodge draw the beasts’ attention while he and An Xiang launched a sneak attack from behind.
And every single time, it worked.
It was a miracle that they made it to the dormitory without losing a single person or suffering any major injuries. They had also rescued five more people, and their team had grown stronger.
By the time they reached the dormitory lobby, An Xiang and Lodge were already looking at Tang Xiao with sheer awe and disbelief. They had no idea how he was doing it.
But the moment they stepped into the lobby, everyone gasped sharply.
An Xiang’s face turned deathly pale. The entire dormitory lobby was covered in thick spiderwebs, and at the center of the web sat a massive black-purple, eight-legged spider, at least three to four meters wide. It locked eyes with them from across the room.
Only Tang Xiao’s expression remained unchanged. He turned to Lodge and said, “Bring the gasoline barrels.”
Back when they had rescued another girl in their team, there had been several crates of gasoline nearby. Tang Xiao had told them to bring some along, though no one had understood why—until now.
By this point, Tang Xiao had lost count of how many times he had fought past this spider. He knew its weaknesses by heart. He unscrewed the lid of the gasoline barrel and approached the dormitory lobby alone.
The others wanted to follow, but he stopped them, instructing them to stay in position and wait.
The spider noticed Tang Xiao’s movements and immediately shot out a web, but it was as if Tang Xiao had predicted it. He dodged by bending down, then used the opportunity to hurl the gasoline barrel into the girls’ dormitory lobby.
The gasoline spilled everywhere, but the spider hadn’t yet realized what was about to happen. Tang Xiao flicked the lighter and threw it in—then quickly retreated.
The rising flames quickly consumed all the spiderwebs in the lobby. The black-purple spider let out a piercing screech, smashing through the glass doors as it lunged at Tang Xiao. Its eight long legs shimmered with an eerie hue.
Tang Xiao knew they were venomous. He had died five times of the spider’s poison and had no intention of experiencing it again. Without looking back, he turned and ran, shouting, “Now!”
A large net dropped precisely over the spider’s path, trapping it in place. Everyone pulled on the net together, while Lodge darted out from a blind spot and doused the immobilized spider with gasoline.
The moment the spider caught the familiar scent, it realized their plan. It thrashed wildly, struggling to escape the net.
Tang Xiao and his team had only managed to find a regular fishing net on campus. Under the mutated spider’s violent struggle, the net was already on the verge of snapping. Tang Xiao took a deep breath and immediately ignited it with a lighter.
Flames engulfed the spider, and with a powerful burst of strength, it tore free from the net and tried to flee—only to be blocked by Tang Xiao.
Tang Xiao wouldn’t make the mistake of letting the tiger return to the mountain, especially after dying twice here last time.
Faced with the flaming spider charging at them, Jiang Xinchun and the others felt their hands tremble, almost dropping their weapons. Only Tang Xiao stood firm, raising his axe the moment the fire-cloaked spider lunged at him.
The spider, burned and driven to madness, didn’t even attempt to dodge. The tip of its leg gleamed sharply as it pierced straight toward Tang Xiao’s chest, bearing the weight of the axe.
Tang Xiao let out a muffled grunt but swung the axe down unwaveringly, cleaving through the spider’s head. Man and beast collapsed together, tangled in a fierce struggle, until finally, two or three seconds later, the spider’s movements ceased.
By now, the flames had crept up the spider’s legs and onto Tang Xiao’s body. Lodge and Jiang Xinchun rushed forward to put out the fire, while An Xiang examined the spider’s legs before running over in alarm. “Check for poison, quick!”
“I’m fine.” Tang Xiao coughed twice and, with Lodge’s help, barely managed to stand. He pulled a small mirror from his chest. “I blocked it.”
“Ah!” An Xiang gasped, covering her mouth. “When did you prepare that?”
“How did you know the spider would stab you there?” someone else asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, it was like you predicted it.” Jiang Xinchun marveled.
Tang Xiao hesitated slightly, thinking of how to explain, but Lodge suddenly spoke up. “Because it’s a vital area, right? The heart and lungs are in the chest.”
Tang Xiao glanced at Lodge, who was looking straight at him—his eyes gleaming as if he were gazing at a rare, priceless gem. “I once heard that some people are so intelligent they can deduce a person’s identity, profession, and even thoughts the moment they meet—like a psychic or mind reader,” Lodge said.
“That’s what you’re like, isn’t it? Throughout this journey, you’ve been observing everything around you, analyzing movements, predicting attack patterns, and formulating strategies in advance. That’s why it looks like you can see the future. You’re incredible.”
The others hesitated, unsure whether to agree. Was that really possible?
Tang Xiao couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”
Even though he had died sixteen times along the way. Even though he had died nine times just fighting this spider.
Only by dying over and over again did he figure out a way to clear this stage while keeping everyone alive.
But they didn’t need to know that.
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