Chapter 1: Survival in the Wasteland

The sky was veiled in a dull, gray haze, the sun barely breaking through with fractured beams of weak light.

By the side of a desolate road, a faint silhouette lay motionless—a figure stretched out in stillness. Shrouded beneath jagged rocks, its face remained hidden, but the long, lean shape exuded a quiet serenity amid the ruin.

Soon after.

The figure stirred from sleep, groaning as it rubbed its swollen head, slowly blinking open its eyes. A howling wind roared past its ears, and before it, an alien landscape unfolded—barren, broken, like the world had ended just yesterday. The shock hit P Chen like a freight train, jolting his mind awake.

"...Where the hell am I?"

Before he could even process it, a voice echoed—not from the air, but from somewhere deep inside his skull.

【Survivors, welcome to the Wasteland!】
【This is a world ravaged by catastrophe and danger!】
【Attention: This is not a game!】
【You are now entering a trial—real survival, real stakes. You’ll face acid rain, toxic fog, extreme cold, scorching heat, earthquakes, tsunamis, mutated beasts—every natural disaster imaginable. Your only goal? Survive.】
【Your wrist totem is your greatest ally—use it wisely.】
【Day One Disaster: Acid Rain will arrive in three days, lasting seven. Good luck, survivors!】

The Wasteland?

A survival trial?

Dozens of questions flooded P Chen’s mind. But before he could ask anything, the voice vanished—gone as if it had never spoken.

He looked around. Nothing. No grass. No birds. No life. Just silence so thick it felt like a weight on his chest.

All he had on him was the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d been yanked from Blue Planet—nothing else. Not even a lighter. His confidence in surviving this place dropped by half.

Then he glanced at his left hand.

There, etched into his skin like a brand, was a complex, intricate totem—winding lines and abstract symbols that seemed to hum with ancient power. It glowed faintly blue, pulsing softly against his wrist.

“That voice… came from this,” P Chen muttered, poking it.

Instantly, a shimmering blue hologram bloomed in front of his eyes.

**Wasteland Survival Platform:**
Backpack
Crafting
Chat Channel
Trading Market

Four options floated in midair.

He tapped the Backpack. Inside were a few basic survival items:

- **Wasteland Survival Guide X1 (White)** – Notes on surviving in the ruins, written by those who made it.
- **Bread X3 (White)** – Made from subpar flour. Slightly fills hunger.
- **Water Bottle X3 (White)** – Regular bottled water. Eases thirst.
- **Thatch Shirt X1 (White)** – Poor-quality grass cloth. Offers minimal warmth.
- **Stone Axe X1 (White)** – Basic axe. Can chop ordinary trees.
- **Stone Pickaxe X1 (White)** – Basic pick. Can mine common minerals.

“White means lowest tier… Seriously? This starter pack is stingy.” He snorted. “According to the guide, item tiers go White, Green, Blue, Purple, Gold, Red, and Colorful—common, rare, fine, epic, legendary, mythic, and unique.”

Before he could rant further about the platform’s miserliness, something shifted.

A golden glow flared in the air.

P Chen’s breath hitched. His eyes widened. The light burned bright in his pupils. Slowly, trembling, he reached toward it.

**Territory Core (Gold)** – Upgradable. Place on ground to generate a 3x3x3 wooden shelter and claim a 3x3 area of territory. Within its radius, you can build, upgrade, and repair shelters. Structures and survivors under its influence gain bonuses. Upgrade cost: Wood x50.
【Note: Each survivor may possess only one Territory Core. Guard it well.】

“The Territory Core… This is the ultimate tool for building shelter against disasters.”
But then he frowned. “Wait… everyone gets one? And it can be stolen?”

His excitement deflated instantly. *So much for my lucky break.*

Just as he closed the interface, a new voice cut through his thoughts—familiar, yet different from the totem’s tone. Cold. Mechanical. It spoke directly inside his mind.

Then, another screen materialized—identical to the survival platform, but with a sleeker design.

【Ping! Congratulations, Host. You’ve unlocked the Happy Life System. We’re here to help you build the perfect, joyful life—ocean-view villa, luxury cars, beautiful companions—all within reach. Would you like to bind?】

“What the actual hell?” P Chen nearly shouted aloud.

“You want me to *bind*? I’m stranded in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, and you’re pitching me a beach house and a hot girlfriend? Are you kidding me? Should I bring them down to the rubble and use them as furniture?”

【Ping! Detected change in host environment. System upgrading… Please wait…】

Minutes passed.

Then—

【Upgrade successful! Congratulations, Host. You now possess the Wasteland Happy Life System. This upgraded version is optimized for survival in the apocalypse—while still ensuring comfort, wealth, and happiness. Bind now?】

“Bind,” P Chen said, skeptical. The system upgrade didn’t seem to change much—just added “Wasteland” to the name. Still felt sketchy.

【Ping! Successfully bound. Newcomer Gift X1 available. Claim?】

“Claim!”

- **Happiness Points X30** – The core currency used for upgrades, renovations, and item exchanges. Earned daily based on your Happiness Value.
- **Winter Cotton Coat X1 (Blue)** – Thick cotton-lined jacket. Resists moderate cold.
- **Fine Iron Sword X1 (Blue)** – Sharper, more efficient. Better damage against enemies.
- **Fine Iron Axe X1 (Blue)** – Faster tree-cutting. Can handle fine-grade trees.
- **Fine Iron Pickaxe X1 (Blue)** – More efficient mining. Can extract fine-grade ores.

“Yes! This gold-plated gift beats the crap out of that stingy survival platform!” P Chen grinned.

Still buzzing with the thrill of his new advantage, he paused—then sank into thought.

*Happiness Points… That’s probably the most valuable thing this system gives me. And they depend on my Happiness Value. So… I have to survive. Not just survive—but thrive. Live better than anyone else. Only then does the system truly work.*

“The priority now? Find a spot to place my Territory Core.”

He remembered the voice: Acid Rain in three days. If he didn’t build a decent shelter before then, he’d be toast.

He scanned the endless wasteland ahead—cracked earth, skeletal trees, dust storms swirling in the distance.

Then, far off, a flicker of green.

Sparse plants. A sign of life.

“Damn. My dumb luck actually paid off.”

He pressed forward.

After two hundred meters—or maybe more—the first tree appeared.

No hesitation.

He pulled out the stone axe from the survival platform and swung. The blade bit into the bark with a dull thud—like hitting wood with a rock. The impact reverberated up his arm.

“This thing’s useless. If I keep using this, I’ll be chopping until nightfall and still not finish one tree.”

He switched to the iron axe—gift from the new system.

Swung once. Then again.

Wood flew like paper. With each strike, the tree groaned, split, and fell—clean, fast, efficient.

In seven or eight minutes, the job was done.

**Wood +5**

He looked up. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the cracked land.

Time was running out.

He tightened his grip on the iron axe.

“Better move fast. I need wood. Shelter. And a damn good start.”