Temporary Command Post Stationed Outside the Abnormal Zone.
Although the rescue and joint operation plans were temporarily slowed down, a large number of squads had been deployed here.
Can looked at the bustling scene of people coming and going, frowning in worry.
“You say this whole thing…”
Aiming Scope was wiping down his wooden stock nearby, occasionally glancing into the Abnormal Zone through the stock’s opening.
Baozi munched as he mumbled, “It was already a huge headache to begin with, but they had to shove it into the action team. If something goes wrong, the boss takes all the blame again…”
Hacker sat on a supply crate, typing furiously at his computer screen, his voice cold and sharp: “They just finished training not long ago, and now they’re sending them to the front line. When leadership makes decisions, their brains are…”
“Ahem, ahem,” Liu Xuanjin coughed a few times into his headset.
“You guys talk too much. Our squad’s mission is a bit tough, sure, but given the current situation, whose mission isn’t? Everyone here needs to have a bigger picture…”
The Medic tidied up the medical bag while speaking softly, “Hacker has muted the others; now only a few of us can hear this channel. No one else can.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier!”
Liu Xuanjin’s tone changed, grumbling, “We’ve got to figure out a way to dump that guy on someone else. Otherwise, we’ll have to bring a grandpa along for every mission…”
“That guy?”
“You’re asking me that on purpose, aren’t you? Isn’t it just Ji…”
Before the name slipped out, Liu Xuanjin suddenly caught himself, swallowed the rest of the sentence, and grew serious.
“Who just opened their mic? Ji Ting, you got the signal? Report your position!”
Without Liu Xuanjin needing to say more, those who had been lazily complaining just moments ago quickly shifted into mission mode, gathering their gear and assembling near the vehicles.
While Liu Xuanjin was still speaking, Can had already floored the accelerator, shouting towards the tents, “Boss!”
Hearing a commotion on the headset, Ji Ting quickly replied, “I’m fine. Communication went smoothly, and we’ve reached a preliminary consensus.”
The vehicle stopped in front of the largest tent.
As Li Yishu lifted the tent flap, he paused at Ji Ting’s words and glanced back at the leaders behind him.
A moment later.
Aguang leisurely stretched his fingers.
“All set. You guys can talk.”
On the large floating screen, a familiar snowflake flickered briefly, then a clear image appeared.
Many people were participating in the conversation.
Aside from Director Wang, whom Ji Ting knew well, there were several unfamiliar faces he had never seen.
The Tian Shu Squad squeezed into the back of the frame, almost impossible to spot without careful attention.
Compared to the other side, Liu Daming’s group had pitifully few participants.
Besides Liu Daming and Shuanzi, Aguang was just a channel maintainer.
Ji Ting gave a brief update on the situation before handing the stage over to Shuanzi.
The two sides exchanged official statements, then got down to business, discussing the mutated creatures.
Liu Daming lost interest after a while and pulled Ji Ting away from the screen to chat about something that concerned him more.
Li Yishu’s ears twitched.
Through his headset, he caught Ji Ting and Liu Daming’s conversation.
He glanced at the screen, which now looked unusually empty—only the fierce-looking Shuanzi remained, while Liu Daming and Ji Ting had disappeared.
Can winked at his teammates, lips moving silently in lip-reading: “Ji Ting, impressive. Not long since you arrived, and you’ve already built good relations?”
Baozi: “That’s why the boss is eager to send him on missions. It’s professional matchmaking.”
Aiming Scope: “Nonsense. It’s obviously a golden finger. You’ve got yours, you try it too.”
Hacker: “Not that exaggerated. From what I heard, the effect on us is only about 1.2 to 1.4. At most, it’s strong affinity, nothing like Liu Daming’s level.”
Medic: “His ability hasn’t been fully explored yet, but it’s definitely not simple. The novels he wrote actually became reality—so he himself must be…”
Before the Medic could finish, the team leader gave them a sharp look, and he immediately shut up, playing the background role obediently and quietly listening to the friendly dialogue between the leaders and the other side.
Fortunately, both sides knew the urgency of the situation and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
They quickly reached an agreement on the plan to “eliminate the mutated creatures,” then moved on to another issue.
Shuanzi: “According to your summary of the ‘three stages of novel and reality fusion,’ completely wiping out the mutated creatures seems an unattainable goal.”
“During the fusion, mutated creatures will continuously appear. Once fusion ends and the novel becomes part of reality, we won’t be dealing with just a few mutated creatures anymore—we’ll be facing all the mutated creatures scattered across the wasteland.”
“You might not understand the wasteland’s situation. The mutated creatures that have appeared recently are just appetizers. The real big shots that turned the wasteland into an apocalypse? None have shown up yet.”
Outside the screen, Liu Daming discussed the topic with Ji Ting.
“The wasteland is full of those crazed monsters, gathering outside the city, attacking every day. If they appeared in this world alongside us, things would spiral out of control quickly and repeat all that’s happened in the wasteland.”
Liu Daming grew increasingly annoyed: “If we really crossed over, wouldn’t that be great? But instead, we got this ‘novel and reality fusion’ mess. You guys are the ones truly screwed.”
“These creatures are incredibly hard to kill, possessing astonishing self-healing—no, more precisely, incredible vitality. Even if you cut off their heads, two more grow back. They have no fatal weakness. Any shattered organ can regrow into a whole new cluster…”
Perhaps thinking words alone were too dry, Shuanzi had Aguang play a video.
At the start of the video, the entire screen was pitch dark, easily mistaken for footage filmed at night.
But from the heavy breathing, roars, crashes, and furious howls—these deafening sounds conveyed more accurate information: this wasn’t nightfall, but the sky and ground were swarming with bizarre monsters, so numerous they blocked out the sun.
Aguang raised the brightness, revealing the monsters’ strange forms.
In appearance, they bore almost no resemblance to known creatures.
They looked like patchwork abominations, grafting limbs from various animals onto themselves to form huge, terrifying shapes.
Here you could find everything that defied imagination: spider legs, wolf heads, a rotting human face embedded in their abdomen, snake tails coiling behind…
Compared to these, the Giant Field Frog Ji Ting had encountered could be considered a blend of both beauty and brutality.
“Monster siege” was an apt description.
Monsters in the sky and on the ground roared, trying every method to break through the fortress, leaving countless battle scars on the walls.
This was a war with no chance of victory.
During the monster siege, the city wasn’t idle.
On the contrary, it fought back fiercely.
Dense artillery turrets on the walls continuously rained down ammunition, and monsters could be seen struck everywhere.
But as Shuanzi said, these creatures were too resilient—their heads shattered could regrow multiple new heads within a minute or two, not to mention other body parts.
The video was intense and tragic, shrouded in gloom and despair, much like the city itself—never seeing a clear sky without monsters surrounding it.
Everyone watching knew the city’s doomed fate.
Shuanzi ended the video: “The apocalypse has arrived. All of us are prepared…”
He paused and glanced toward Ji Ting’s direction.
“But an unexpected event occurred.”
The city, which should have met its predetermined end amid the monster siege, crossed the boundary between reality and the novel, arriving in a brand-new world—and with it, new possibilities.
Director Wang’s expression was grave.
“We must prevent this situation from happening again,” he emphasized, “at all costs.”
Perhaps the tension was too thick, for after speaking, Director Wang softened his tone and called out, “Xiao Ji…”
No one responded.
Ji Ting was quietly whispering with Liu Daming, completely unaware he was being addressed.
Until a cough came through the headset.
Ji Ting looked up to see Director Wang kindly assigning him a task.
“Xiao Ji, we still need your cooperation. We have several contingency plans, all focused on ‘how to control the course of novel and reality fusion.’ If possible, we must avoid such extreme situations. If we can influence the fusion’s direction so those mutated creatures don’t appear in reality…”
Ji Ting was a bit surprised but then thought it made sense.
The gap between individual and collective power was objectively huge—especially for a colossal entity like the state.
These few contingency plans for ‘controlling novel and reality fusion’ were just a small part of their preparations for ‘special events.’
Ji Ting straightened up, energized: “If there’s anything I can do, that would be great.”
Director Wang smiled warmly.
“Don’t underestimate yourself. You’re the core of our entire ‘Special Event Response Plan.’”