Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

A boy stepped onto the moonlit ground, looked down at his footprints, and stood there stunned for several seconds.

He carefully lifted his other foot and stepped on another one.

Two footprints were left side by side on the lunar surface, their patterns clearly visible in the gray dust.

The little girl who asked "Can I keep a rabbit?" squatted down and drew a rabbit on the lunar surface with her finger.

The rabbit was crooked, with one ear bigger than the other, and its tail was a circle.

Not far away, a star-spangled flag was planted diagonally in the lunar soil, next to the long-abandoned descent section of the lunar module, its golden heat shield reflecting the sunlight.

“The American flag…” A little boy recognized it and took a step in that direction without thinking. Several other children beside him followed suit, eager to join in.

The principal reached out to stop her, squatted down, and looked her in the eye.

“A long, long time ago,” he said, “there were a few very brave people who rode in rockets and flew a very, very long way to get here. They were the first people to stand on the moon.”

The little boy looked back at the flag, then turned to the principal and asked, "Why did they come?"

“Because humanity wants to know what this glittering light really is.” The principal smiled. “They didn’t come for any one country; they came for all of us. So let’s not touch this flag, or their footprints… Let them be left for more brave people to see in the future.”

The children nodded, turned around, and ran back.

The principal straightened up and gestured to the teacher, "Let's begin class."

Three teachers stood on the lunar soil, and more than sixty students sat cross-legged in front of them.

The Earth hangs above the lunar horizon, slowly rotating.

The teacher reopened the textbook, her fingers trembling slightly. This is normal; anyone would do the same if they were teaching from the moon.

“Children, that’s where we live,” the teacher said, pointing to the Earth with a slightly stuttering voice. “This is the Pacific Ocean. We learned about the seven continents and four oceans in the last lesson. This is the largest ocean.”

She moved her finger a little to the side, "This is our Da Yang."

The finger continued moving, from Da Yang eastward, across the Pacific Ocean, until it touched the outline of the Americas. "That's South America over there. You see, from this position, the sun is completely out of sight now... Everyone's asleep..."

……

After the lesson, the children ran and jumped on the lunar surface. Zhang Qiliang found an open space and gently put down an object that had been flying alongside them from two kilometers away.

It is a massive structure, square in shape, at least three meters high, ten meters wide, and ten meters long. When its base landed on the lunar surface, it raised a small circle of dust, remaining perfectly stable.

The outer shell is dark gray, with a row of narrow observation windows on the surface, the glass reflecting the blue light of the earth.

"Ming-ge, what's that?" The little girl who liked to draw rabbits tugged at his trouser leg.

Zhang Qiliang looked down at her.

"This?" Zhang Qiliang thought for a moment, "Let's just call it the Smart House for now."

……

When he woke up, it took Duan Zhihai several seconds to remember who he was.

The ceiling is made of reinforced concrete and coated with a moisture-proof paint. There are old marks on the edges where water has seeped in.

The air was filled with the lingering smell of diesel generator exhaust, mixed with the inexplicable stuffiness unique to the basement.

He lay on a folding cot, covered with two layers of military overcoats, with several boxes of compressed biscuits and bottled water piled at his feet, and canned food, self-heating rice and medicine boxes stacked on an iron shelf in the corner.

He sat up and rubbed his temples.

Three days ago, he injected himself with a strong sedative, a veterinary anesthetic he found online. The dosage was difficult to control, and he lost consciousness after the injection.

If a wicked monster can trace the chain of cause and effect, surely he can't even detect the brainwaves of someone in a deep coma?

Duan Zhihai quickly glanced at his watch: 9:47 a.m.

Three whole days have passed!!!

Duan Zhihai stood up and walked to the monitoring console.

The surveillance system is connected to four cameras inside the shelter: the corridor, storage room, power distribution room, and the backup exit leading to the ground.

All four feeds were completely quiet.

Staring at the screen, Duan Zhihai slowly grinned.

Given that jerk's personality, he wouldn't tolerate anything he dislikes for so long...

It's highly likely that I, the one who slipped through the net, have truly escaped.

Duan Zhihai's lips curled up, and he stood up and paced back and forth.

Duan Zhihai was involved in the trade of providing information to the industrial park. He would buy citizens' personal information from insiders, package and categorize it, and sell it to operators in Southeast Asia. Through this business, he amassed a considerable fortune.

He has never trusted anyone in his life.

When he first started out, he helped people photocopy ID cards at a print shop. He discovered that every photocopy could be sold for money. From then on, he understood a principle: trust is the most expensive form of social interaction.

Later, as his business grew, he never recruited downlines, never hired assistants, never met in person for transactions, and all data exchanges were encrypted and anonymous. Even his packages were transferred three times before he received them.

During their divorce proceedings, his wife stated in court that during their eight years of marriage, she did not know his phone password, had never seen his ID card, and could not even give him the exact address of his hometown.

The judge asked him if he had anything to say, and after thinking for a moment, he said that she was right.

This shelter cost him nearly three years' savings and countless hours of hard work. To protect against radiation and potential gas warfare, the internal air purification system alone underwent four revisions. He commissioned an industrial-grade carbon dioxide adsorption unit from the manufacturer and added a molecular sieve oxygen generator and a humidity balancer. The money he spent was enough to buy half an apartment in Shanghai.

When the construction team asked him why he was making things so complicated, he said he wanted to grow mushrooms in the basement.

"Those armchair clowns on the apocalypse survival forums," Duan Zhihai muttered to himself, "when it really comes down to it, we'll have to see real action."

It's been three days... Duan Zhihai decided to go out for some fresh air.

Of course, don't rush to open the door. Take a look at the observation window first: it was specially left during the renovation. It is equipped with explosion-proof glass and steel mesh. It faces the quarry slope and you can see the gravel slope and a few clumps of withered yellow grass.

Climbing the iron ladder, Duan Zhihai approached the observation post and peered out.

There were no gravel slopes, and no wild grass.

A gray wilderness stretched into the distance, its ground riddled with potholes, the largest of which was as big as a playground.

Duan Zhihai blinked.

On the horizon, a faded American flag was stuck askew in the gray earth, next to a strange-looking metal frame, its golden foil reflecting the blinding sunlight.

Duan Zhihai blinked again and pressed his face even closer.

A few seconds later, Duan Zhihai slowly raised his head.

Directly opposite, a deep blue planet hangs above, slowly rotating.

179 SSS-level Challenge

This was Zhou Yuan's first time working on a project of this caliber.

He had recited the name of the entire engineering system, "Jiangu Project" and "Tengger Lake Hub," several times on his way here, but it still didn't feel quite real.

He used to work in building construction, and the tallest building he ever built was only thirty-three stories. Now, just the shuttle bus between work areas takes almost an hour.

He was greeted by a middle-aged man in his forties, surnamed Ma, whom everyone called Old Ma.

Old Ma doesn't speak fast, but he's very agile. Zhou Yuan had to jog a few steps every now and then to keep up with him.

"What did you do before?" Old Ma asked as he walked.

"I've done everything: building construction, masonry, plastering, and tiling."

“Alright, follow me for the next few days and get familiar with the place.” Old Ma stopped in front of a row of prefabricated houses, pushed open the door of one of them, and said, “This is your bunk… Put your things down and come with me for roll call.”

The roll call was held in the open space at the entrance of the construction site.

When Zhou Yuan arrived, about twenty people were already lined up. They were of all shapes and sizes, ranging in age from their early twenties to their forties, and all wearing uniform dark gray work clothes with numbers printed on their chests.

Zhou Yuan professionally scanned these people's hands. The skin on the back of their hands was smooth, and there were no cement marks under their fingernails. They were obviously novices, just like what was said online.

"Today's work," Old Ma stood at the front of the team and began assigning tasks, "formwork for the drainage ditch on the east side of unloading area number three. Same as usual, the formwork has been delivered to the site, and the paint has been applied. You twenty people, split into two groups, one group responsible for the north section, and the other for the south section, each section approximately forty meters long. Finish before dark, any questions?"

"No problem," came a scattered reply from about twenty people.

Zhou Yuan waited for Lao Ma to say the next sentence.

Based on his past experience, after the team leader assigns the task, he will definitely emphasize safety, quality, and schedule, and will talk for at least three to five minutes.

But Old Ma didn't say anything more, he just nodded to the group: "Then let's go."

The people dispersed.

Zhou Yuan was stunned for a moment.

"Is that all?" He followed Old Ma towards the construction site. "Won't you explain the technical points? What about unevenness, verticality, and so on?"

"It's all written in the standard drawings; they can read it themselves."

"What if there's anything you don't understand?"

"They'll ask."

Zhou Yuan bit his lip and didn't say anything more.

He had worked on construction sites for several years and had never seen a team leader who wouldn't teach unless asked.

If you don't keep an eye on them, the workers have plenty of ways to get away with it. If the formwork is crooked by one or two centimeters, that's considered lenient; they can crook it by ten centimeters.

When Zhou Yuan arrived at the construction site, he was even more surprised.

Of the twenty people, no one stood still waiting for instructions, and no one took out their phone to watch videos.

Several quick-thinking workers had already moved the templates from the storage yard to the edge of the trench, while the rest of the workers were laying lines, driving piles, and erecting support poles on both sides of the trench.

Someone squatted on the ground and looked at the blueprint for a while. Then, he stood up and gestured to the person next to him. The two of them lifted a template to the designated position and placed it on the ground. It fit perfectly inside the lime line.

"Old Zhao, can I borrow your spirit level?" someone called out.

"Take it yourself." The person next to him didn't even look up.

The worker, Lao Zhao, walked to the toolbox, picked up the spirit level, returned to his position, leaned the spirit level against the template, squatted down to look at the bubble, then stood up and gently kicked the bottom corner of the template with his foot. When he leaned back to look again, the bubble was in the center.

The whole process takes no more than two minutes.

Zhou Yuan stood by the ditch, his expression somewhat blank.

In his previous construction work, he had to shout several times just to convince the workers to move the formwork to the correct position.

Some seasoned veterans know perfectly well what the lime line means, but they'll deliberately deviate it by two centimeters. When you ask them why, they'll say, "That's about right."

Nobody here says "almost".

Old Ma led him around the ditch.

When they reached the middle of the northern section, Lao Ma stopped.

“This fastener,” Old Ma pointed to a steel pipe fastener on the side of a template, “is missing a screw?”

Zhou Yuan looked down and saw that one was indeed missing.

The fastener has two screw holes, but only one was screwed on.

This kind of problem is all too common on building construction sites. If a fastener screw is not tightened enough, the formwork will not collapse in a short time, but when the vibrator is used to pour concrete, there is a certain probability that the grout will leak.

"Who did this?" Old Ma asked again.

Old Ma's voice wasn't loud, and he didn't seem angry at all.

Zhou Yuan subconsciously pursed his lips.

Such scenes are all too common on construction sites: the team leader discovers a problem and begins to investigate and hold those responsible accountable.

Zhou Yuan could guess what would happen next with his eyes closed: everyone would lower their heads, look elsewhere, or pretend not to hear.

You have to ask them one by one. When you ask one, they say "It wasn't me." When you ask another, they say "It was like this when I came." When you ask the third one, they might just point in a direction that God knows exactly what they're pointing to and say, "It might be them."

If you're lucky, you can get the answer in ten minutes; if you're unlucky, you'll end up having to screw the screws on yourself and that's the end of it.

"I did it."

Zhou Yuan turned his head.

The speaker was a young man in his late twenties, with very short hair and a flat expression on his face.

He was squatting on the other side of the ditch, holding a wrench, and he must have been tightening another screw.

"Why is one missing?" Old Ma asked.

"The screw fell into the ditch. I picked it up and looked at it. Three of the threads were stripped... The new screw is in the toolbox, but I haven't had time to get it yet."

"Go get it now."