Chapter 8: The Wrath of Nature

Sitting on the stool, patiently waiting for the pork to finish roasting, Chen Zhuo took the moment to open the regional chat channel.

The coming apocalypse had already stirred a quiet panic in most people.

"Hey guys, how's it going over there?"

"I'm already getting light drizzle—like, *feathery* rain."

The mention of acid rain instantly grabbed everyone’s attention.

"So am I. Honestly, I don’t know if my little wooden cabin can survive this."

"Bro above me, let me tell you—no worries. It’ll hold."

"Actually, maybe you're all overreacting. Acid rain is corrosive, sure, but it’s not *that* apocalyptic."

"Let’s be real—worst case, it just fries the plants. That’s about it."

"True. Wooden houses should be fine. Otherwise, with only three days to prep, who even *could* upgrade from a busted stone axe to a full stone house? I’m telling you, no one’s got a stone hut yet."

"Haha, who says no one has one? I just finished mine."

"Oh yeah? Prove it. You’re lying through your teeth. I’d say I’ve got a golden mansion myself."

The survivor shot back, clearly annoyed. He’d spent hours chopping trees and digging stone, barely missing the stone house milestone—and now someone claims they already built one? No way.

Then came the proof: a photo dropped straight into the chat.

A solid stone house stood proudly on the mountainside, weathered but unshaken.

The chat exploded.

"Whoa… seriously?! Legend, take me under your wing—I’ve got my land foundation ready!"

"Back off, dude. Everyone’s got a land foundation. Boss, I’m about to upgrade my stones—let’s team up! Two strong players make a fortress!"

"Look at me! I’m cute, I’m sweet—just take me in. Whatever you need, I’ll do it!"

"Haha, okay, okay—bring your land foundation, and I’ll take *all* of you."

Seeing how fast people were fawning over that stone house, others who’d already built their own began popping up in the chat—showing off, flexing, recruiting survivors like generals assembling an army.

Chen Zhuo watched silently, quietly noting down the names of those with stone houses. He also mentally tallied how many others in his region might have done the same—those who stayed quiet or just didn’t check the chat.

"Eight confirmed in the channel. But add in the low-key ones, and the ones who aren’t paying attention? Probably ten times that number."

He was stunned. Without any system help, they’d managed to build stone houses in just three days? He’d used the survival platform’s stone axe himself—efficiency was painfully slow.

Still, he believed only teamwork could pull it off in time.

And the fact that these builders were so eager to recruit others only confirmed his theory.

But none of it mattered to him.

As long as they stayed focused on surviving—no drama, no schemes—he didn’t care.

No way was he letting strangers join his shelter. Not when he had a system—a black-tech secret. If word got out, he’d be hunted down like a target in a warzone.

After all, *innocent man, but carrying treasure—that’s a death sentence.*

"Early game happiness points are crawling. So far, I’ve only traded 10 for a flint. Now I’ve got 35 left."

"Survival path ahead… long and hard."

He tossed a slightly charred piece of roasted pork to Tai Mei, then ate his own meal with boiled spring water.

One bite—juice burst across his tongue. The wild boar leg was firm, chewy, rich with flavor. Every mouthful carried the raw essence of the untamed wilderness. He closed his eyes, savoring it like a feast from another world.

No wonder it was ranked high-tier. Too bad it lacked saltiness—just pure aroma.

He opened the trading platform and found salt for sale. Swapped six logs and brought it back.

Items that traded with wood or stone? His favorite. They’d take half an hour to mine with stone picks and axes—but he did it in seven or eight minutes. Worth every second.

On the other hand, food and water? That required serious haggling.

A few grains of salt sprinkled on the meat—simple, but transformative. The salt danced with the fat and fragrance, turning a good meal into something unforgettable.

+3 Happiness Points

"Man, early game, food gives the most happiness. Half a pound of beef with a pinch of salt nets me three points. If I just *ate* half a pig whole… would I be able to afford gene serum right away?"

He chuckled to himself, still chewing, thinking about the bag of snacks he’d stashed away.

After finishing, he cleaned up, lay down, and kept scrolling through the chat.

Tomorrow was the day the disaster began. He’d wait until exactly 12:00—when the acid rain officially started.

Until he knew what was really happening, sleep was out of the question.

Watching the survivors chat, joke, and panic, he felt a strange déjà vu—like watching old friends from Earth’s online communities.

Only now, instead of bragging about gear or flexing lifestyles, they were obsessing over one thing: *how to stay alive.*

Heavy topic, yes—but somehow, the banter gave him comfort.

In this alien world, conversation was the only lifeline between them.

+9 Happiness Points

Second by second, the clock ticked toward noon.

Finally—12:00.

The acid rain began.

[Day One Disaster: Acid Rain Officially Begins]

The ancient voice on Chen Zhuo’s wrist tattoo stirred after days of silence.

He ignored the sound, cracked open the door a sliver, and looked outside.

The sky darkened beneath a sickly, ominous haze. The once-black heavens now glowed with a jaundiced green tinge—like a warning painted across the sky.

An acrid smell filled the air. He instinctively covered his nose. Tension tightened in his chest.

Then—cracks split the sky.

Rain fell like needles.

At first, scattered drops. Then more. Then a storm.

The droplets hit the ground with a hiss—eating into soil and plants. Puddles formed, quickly turning an eerie, glowing green.

He glanced at the chat.

Chaos erupted.

This wasn’t the “light drizzle” some claimed earlier. This was a full-scale purge—nature itself unleashing fury.

Panic spread like wildfire.

The ones who’d confidently said “wooden cabins are fine” started sweating.

"Guys… this rain’s intense. What’s your situation?"

"Still holding. Should be okay. Can’t keep raining this hard forever, right?"

"Who knows? If this lasts seven days straight, no wooden house will survive."

"Never mind that—my shelter’s in a low spot. Water’s already seeping in! What do I do?!"