Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

He raised his hand, pointing in a direction that was unclear whether it was Chu Xuan or Zhang Jie. He opened his mouth, and just as he was about to speak, a large cloud of thick smoke billowed from his mouth, just like an exaggerated special effect in a movie—then he lurched forward and fell to the ground with a 'thud,' losing consciousness.

Everyone looked at each other.

Several seconds later, the stunned group in the camp seemed to wake up from a dream and rushed over to carry the unconscious Zheng Zha back to the camp's makeshift medical room.

A few minutes later...

“No problem.” Chu Xuan put some kind of device, the purpose of which was unclear, off Zheng Zha. “He’s just a little exhausted. His energy consumption was too great, so his body entered a self-protective hibernation state. Don’t worry, I gave him some nutrient solution and prepared some food. He’ll wake up in a few minutes.”

"Food and medicine? I'll arrange for someone to get them right away." Imhotep responded, watching Chu Xuan skillfully examine Zheng Zha, draw blood, and seal samples of the detached fragments from his limbs. His eyes twitched involuntarily. After thinking for a moment, he ultimately decided not to interfere in the internal affairs of the Zhongzhou team and instead went outside to arrange accommodation and supplies for the night.

But O'Connor was clearly more enthusiastic than him.

“Uh…” He looked at Chu Xuan, and asked uncertainly, “Is he alright? Are you a researcher who came from some inhumane research institute? I feel like you look a bit like…”

He carefully considered his words, but ultimately did not utter the words "study him".

His inner thoughts obviously did not escape Chu Xuan's notice.

"I'm the team's doctor," Chu Xuan said earnestly to O'Connor. "I'm very skilled at treating illnesses and internal and external injuries. I can treat injuries caused by various natural or supernatural forces. Are you sure you want to question my expertise?"

"..." O'Connor shut his mouth and then walked to the side to sit down. He gestured to the members of the Central State team to make themselves at home. "Just don't cause any trouble yourselves. Zheng Zha is my friend after all... And are you really unable to contact Miss Margot Lloyd? I feel like something's not quite right there..."

He looked at the woods, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"...How did those monkeys manage to beat Zheng Zha like this? They were just a bunch of undead natives who relied on numbers and firearms to win... With Zheng Zha's strength, he should have been able to easily defeat them. Could it be that some strange incident has occurred?"

He frowned, got up, and prepared to walk into the woods.

However, just as he was about to take the first step, he suddenly felt as if one of his hands had been caught in a sturdy iron clamp—he turned his head sharply and found that Zheng Zha had woken up and was staring at him with those blood-red eyes.

"You mean..." Zheng's words were like blades sliding down a rusty iron mountain. "Those monkeys... only won with 'meager' numbers and firearms? 'Meager' firearms and numbers!?"

O'Connor was startled by him.

"Are you alright, Zheng? You look terrible, and you need to rest..." He suddenly stopped talking, a sense of unease making him pause—he felt that Zheng Zha in front of him had become extremely dangerous in an instant, as if he would go berserk at any moment.

“Answer me.” — Someone’s words contained a suppressed rage, like that of a dormant volcano.

O'Connor swallowed.

He immediately raised his hands in surrender and recounted everything that had happened to him. As he spoke, he looked at the others, as if to say, "Why don't you say something too?" However, he was ignored, and so he was left to face Zheng Zha, who was like a live volcano, all by himself.

“…Okay, I admit they were pretty good.” He sighed. “We killed too many, and those overly powerful field guns, those strange planes, and those large tanks that looked like improved versions of those early tanks the British made during World War II (O’Connor didn’t know there would be two World Wars) did give us a lot of trouble…”

As he spoke, he looked at Zheng Zha, but before he could finish, he noticed that Zheng Zha's expression suddenly went blank, as if he were going crazy.

O'Connor immediately shut his mouth.

The bloodshot in Zheng Zha's eyes quickly faded. He tilted his head, his neck slowly creaking as he turned to look at Chu Xuan, who was methodically preparing various strange tools and material samples, and Zhang Jie, who stood to the side seemingly bewildered. The sorrow in his eyes resembled that of an ancient scholar looking up to the heavens and sighing, "Oh, heavens, why have you treated me so cruelly?" Although this was quite out of character for him, it didn't prevent others from reading this eerie meaning in his eyes.

He sighed deeply.

"...Is this all you've encountered?" His tone was very calm, as still as a stagnant pool.

“There are also short-range surface-to-surface missiles and gunships.” Zhang Jie looked at Zheng Zha with some concern, wanting to say something, but ultimately changed the subject to the information Zheng Zha wanted to know. “The specifications are similar to the ones we were on before, and the rapid-fire cannons mounted on them are troublesome. After all, they are undead, heartless things… so I can only handle five or six at a time at most, and the rest are a bit beyond my capabilities.”

He pointed to the scrapes on his shoulder. "This is from a rapid-fire cannon shot; I almost couldn't defend against it."

"..." Zheng Zha's face was draining of color.

He suddenly felt so tired, so exhausted, so bored. Everything he could see was utterly terrible, just like his messed-up life. So he peacefully closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest like an ancient mummy.

"Sorry, I'm planning to get some sleep now. Don't wake me unless it's something else. Chu Xuan, it's up to you whether you want to do research or a medical check-up, just don't disturb me." He said calmly, "However, I suggest you don't go into that forest, because I'm not sure if you'll come out alive... if this trial organization really increases the difficulty based on the number of native deaths."

He recalled that he seemed to have received the information—'Killed fifty-three blessed natives, gained 530 reward points, and one D-level side quest'—when he took down the group of invisible warriors. So he added a sentence.

"I probably took down fifty-three monkeys. The difficulty might have increased a bit. If you're determined to die, you can go in and try it. I guarantee you'll be very surprised."

"--I promise."

He uttered one last sentence before his consciousness sank, and he fell into a deep sleep. He sincerely hoped for a good dream, preferably one about recharging… that the witches would come to his side and shower him with countless super-powerful blessings, buffs, and inexhaustible energy. Then he could charge straight at them, punching each of the two Death Moon Skyships into four little pancakes!

He fell asleep.

The remaining few exchanged glances.

"Uh... how about," Ba Wang, who hadn't dared to speak until now, scratched his face, "we go eat first, and we can talk about the rest when the captain wakes up?"

................................................

Meanwhile, in the no-man's-land of Britain, within an unnamed spatial fault.

Alice lay listlessly in the virtual space simulated by the computing engine, her head raised in melancholy as she observed the subtle changes in the outside world through the numerous sensors installed in Ming Yanwei's power armor. With each glance, her mood grew increasingly depressed, her heart churning with turmoil, even to the point of wanting to unleash a Hadouken (a powerful, explosive punch).

Two days have passed, and including the time spent separated from the men's group, it has been three days. And Alice's spirit, in these three days of exploration... has gained absolutely nothing.

The outside world is engaged in massive demolition. Since the surrounding environment is good and the magic is abundant, taking this opportunity to familiarize oneself with the state of the obsessive soul is a good strategy. However, the problem is that no matter how much destruction occurs outside, as long as the entire land is not destroyed, the fundamental reality of this spacetime rift cannot be shaken. And as long as the final coordinates of the descendant are not revealed, one can only sit here and wait foolishly.

Foolish waiting, foolish waiting, until this guy named Ming Yanwei either opens up a little more or closes up his mind.

Alice was at a loss for words.

Ah, yes, Ming Yanwei wasn't exactly a fool; she guessed the witches' purpose and the needs of the invaders. But the problem was, she wasn't exactly brilliant either. At least not so brilliant that there were people outside in a hurry—so after being secretly guided by the invaders' messengers to a slightly closer timeline than before, she fell into the trap of being a clever fool!

—She actually thought that with her shallow power and understanding, she could bring peace to these ghostly phantoms who had died two years ago in the time-space rift and even try to save them. She even acted as a champion of justice here!

Damn it! I should have deleted some of her memories of being a priestess before giving them back to her!

She gazed at her with melancholy, watching her rescue the townspeople caught in the catastrophe at this critical juncture, two hours after the protagonists' escape. Then, calculating the progress of the Ragnarok ritual—which had already advanced to the third day and might even have seen the 'World Tree' erected—she felt a deep sorrow for the mortals truly facing extinction.

She knew that when the agreed-upon seven-day deadline arrived, Patchouli would have no hesitation in unleashing the Apocalypse and utterly destroying the nation. She also knew that the Descendants hidden deep within this temporal rift had become suspicious of Ming Yanwei and might not easily let her into the deepest level again.

She sighed deeply.

"I need a muscle-bound brute who's stupid enough... and straightforward enough to be the cleaver."

I touched it today, and here's a summary of the voting...

I had a little something to do tonight, so I just touched it today _(:з」∠)_

The voting results... Currently, the Witch War storyline is ahead, followed by the sequels in the other worlds. Gensokyo seems almost certain to be a pass... _(:з」∠)_

I'll look into how to add side stories without charging... Being limited to 1000 words is a bit of a chore... If all else fails, I guess I'll just start a new book and stuff it in _(:з」∠)_

And have I been writing worse and worse lately? _(:з」∠)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: This Place Isn't Called Detroit

Alice is considering whether she should give up – although Ming Yanwei's resurrection was the result of her efforts, after the resurrection ceremony, the person she actually prefers to cultivate is the Overlord.

[Ming Yanwei will become very strong sooner or later, whether it's her original form or her clone, and regardless of whether Zhang Heng is still alive or not, she can at least unlock the third stage of her genetic lock without any side effects. Reaching the limits that mortals can reach—meaning it makes little difference whether I'm there or not. Helping her will at most allow her to avoid some detours.]

So, is it worth wasting my time on her? Especially given how uncooperative she is?

Alice rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought on the data-constructed sofa. Her gaze passed beyond the sensors to the small camp hastily erected by Ming Yanwei—the extraterrestrial invaders had been severely damaged upon arriving in this world, losing their ability to escape and move freely. But Anubis had clearly not paid attention to the surrounding environment when he attacked, so after the battle, the remaining divine power and otherworldly forces manifested as a terrible natural disaster.

It's really nothing special, just some resurrected undead and a bunch of flesh-and-blood mutants hatched and infected by extraterrestrial forces. The former can be dealt with in seven or eight hits with bullets from this era, and the latter can be disposed of by simply hacking them to pieces and burning them, despite the mental pollution.

Alice felt that even in her pre-twenty-year-old body, she could easily sweep away most of the strange things in the city and then leave unscathed. But clearly…

I can't expect ordinary people in this world to have particularly high levels of intelligence... Let's say the average level of the outside world a hundred years ago was reduced by two levels.

But the effort is still commendable.

She watched as the small shelter expanded from nothing to something, gradually becoming more complete. It transformed from just two or three trembling wounded huddled in a corner into a large, united, and supportive team—Ming Yanwei had cleared away the low-level alien creatures and the undead infected by the power of death. Survivors from several surrounding streets had gathered here and were housed.

To be fair, Ming Yanwei did a good job. She organized the rescue, medical care, and search efforts all very efficiently. She also speaks English, so command and coordination were not obstacles for her. Under her guidance, the survivors in the disaster area were also inspired to fight for survival and cooperate, helping each other to overcome the difficulties.

If she had been there when the disaster struck, she might have actually been able to save these people and allow them to survive in this world. But—

—She arrived two years late.

Alice watched her, watched her do futile work during this precious time. She watched her soothe each survivor and assign them labor to build temporary survival targets. Like a work-for-relief policy, she kept everyone busy, and when people are busy, they forget the suffering behind them.

She tried to hint at Ming Yanwei's presence, but failed. And she obviously couldn't repeat this attempt multiple times. She wasn't sure if the outsider hiding in this distorted spacetime would detect her presence, and then… something unpleasant could happen.

A stream of unusual data flowed past Alice's eyes. She stared at the complex changes in information projected onto the lower part of her retina and shook her head helplessly.

[I haven't detected any trace of undead activity in the outside world, so it seems the undead born from the remnants of divine power have been eliminated—which makes sense, as it's only natural that the more severely injured party loses more power. But the problem is... this guy is too badly injured.]

[So heavy that I don't even dare to take the slightest risk.]

She sighed softly... and secretly made plans in her mind.

I cannot be used as bait, because I am far too strong compared to this heavily injured outsider. Even with only a wisp of spirit remaining, my inherent strength is still undeniable.

Just like how most ordinary people wouldn't notice a kilogram of mud on the roadside, but would definitely spot a kilogram of gemstones on a display stand at a glance—as soon as you expose yourself, you will inevitably attract the attention of outsiders, and then you will permanently close the road to the next level, and all your efforts will be in vain.

Therefore, one cannot expose oneself.

As long as you don't expose yourself, the other party will take action sooner or later.

Because the decoy installed inside Ming Yanwei's body was actually a set of coordinates, a set of dimensional coordinates recording the world of 'Ju-on 2'—Patrick provided her with these coordinates from the temporarily unusable Great Library. And for this outsider, the coordinates themselves were the gateway.

Obtaining it would offer a slight chance of escaping this world. The exact probability is currently impossible to calculate, but it's certainly better than nothing.

Staying means certain death. While these coordinates might be a trap, they also offer a glimmer of hope.

She knew that the outsider lurking deep within the spacetime rift would eventually make its move, capturing Ming Yanwei in an attempt to obtain her coordinates. She herself was also well aware that if the other party dared to do so, she was over 80% confident she could annihilate this foreign visitor. However, how long that "finally" would take... was debatable.

Patchouli will only wait seven days, and so will Chu Xuan. Although Alice doesn't know what method Chu Xuan has used to make Zheng Zha temporarily halt his progress, since he has given a seven-day deadline, he will definitely keep his promise. And while he fulfills his promise, he will certainly not tolerate their breach of contract.

Therefore, once the seven-day period is up, all people, or rather all living things, in all of Britain will die. They will be crushed to dust by the power of the Revelation, and the outsiders hiding somewhere in this island nation will be forced out of their physical forms and turned to ashes.

There were only seven days left, and two days have already passed.

The Apocalypse only reveals its oppressive power when it is activated and in the brief period before activation. Before it is activated, as the ultimate magician's method with an extremely long casting animation, its underlying framework is marked with the characteristic of 'extremely high concealment', which cannot be changed in a short time.

Since it cannot be changed, it cannot be used as an external force to exert pressure.

It's impossible to expect an outsider to lose their composure under external pressure. Because their own firepower is insufficient, their deterrent effect is naturally lacking. And since the other party won't lose their judgment, they probably won't be in a hurry to make a decision in the remaining five days.

Perhaps the mortals on this island are destined to die.

Alice thought to herself, reaching out to gently touch her non-existent heart—just as this thought arose in her mind, she suddenly felt a slight stinging pain in her chest. Thoughts of 'regret,' 'unbearable pain,' and 'pity' quietly surfaced from the depths of her heart. Although she immediately suppressed them, those emotions still had a slight impact on her.

She frowned.

"Something's strange..."

Why have I become so concerned about the life and death of these mortals?

She whispered to herself, conducting a mental self-examination amidst her doubts, while secretly making a certain decision.