In a leaking D-rank apartment, Lu Jin sips cheap instant noodles. On a dead world under black rain, his cloud-raised girl curls up to die. A camping pod, a candy wrapper, and a lullaby bridge the distance between them.
The steam from the braised beef instant noodles fogged up Lu Jin's glasses until the world turned into a white blur.
He took them off, wiped them on the hem of his T-shirt, and settled them back onto his nose.
His vision cleared—
And a chill knifed straight down his optic nerve into his brain.
On the other side of the screen, Sector A-11 had been swallowed by night. The darkness was thick, like ink that refused to dissolve. Black rain fell in silent vertical lines, each drop laced with fine, glittering dust.
Black rain. A wasteland weather anomaly where every raindrop was a tiny corrosive dose.
Li Xing was curled beside the burnt-out sonic sphere, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.
The faint blue veil of scent blocker still wrapped the area, enough to keep beasts away—but it did nothing against the death creeping in on the cold.
Her already pale face had taken on a grayish, corpse-like tinge. Her bare feet, cut and filthy, were clenched tight in the muddy water, toes swollen and red with cold.
Lu Jin slurped a mouthful of spicy broth. His stomach spread with warmth.
His chest froze over.
He was eating hot noodles.
She was waiting to die.
The contrast made the sausage in his mouth taste like rubber.
A familiar chime cut through the room.
That damned, blood-pressure-spiking sound effect again.
[Alert: Your cloud-raised girl is being hit by a cold snap!][Environment Scan: Temperature dropping to -5°C, accompanied by mild acidic radiation rain.][Reminder: On the wasteland, a "common cold" = a terminal illness! Can you really watch your freshly rescued cutie freeze into a stiff ice sculpture in the mud?]
A 3D model spun into view at the center of the screen, rotating slowly—a sleek, egg-shaped silver pod straight out of a sci-fi movie.
[Recommended Item: Portable Single-Unit Camping Pod (Civilian Model)]
[Functions]: Constant 24°C interior, anti-radiation coating, anti-insect & vermin repulsion field, built-in soft ambient nightlight.[Price]: ¥588.00
[Newbie Protection Tip: First use is covered by the system. Actual charge this time: ¥0.00](Note: Comes with "cloud-soft" moisture-proof mat. Newbie orders only!)
"Five hundred and eighty-eight…"
Lu Jin glanced down at the noodle tub in his hand. ¥4.50 worth of braised beef flavor.
Then back at the price tag on the camping pod.
In the real world he lived in a drafty D-rank shoebox with moldy bedding. Over there, the newbie "starter gear" got slapped with a number that could bankrupt him.
"Robbers," he muttered under his breath, the word edged with a grim sort of bite. "You even manage to turn 'newbie protection' into marketing copy. You'd better pray this thing actually blocks radiation."
Another line of small text blinked in the lower corner of the interface.
[Use Newbie Protection Benefit: Have the system cover the item cost?]
"Of course I'm using it," he snorted, and tapped [Confirm].
[Item deployed. Newbie protection remaining uses: 1/1.][Friendly reminder: While this deployment is free, any future damage to the camping pod will require repairs at your own expense.]
Somewhere in Deep Space Echo's invisible back end, the debt column quietly ticked upward.
At least his actual balance didn't drop by a single cent.
Wasteland, Sector A-11.
The black rain was eating away the last of Li Xing's body heat.
Just when she was sure she'd freeze solid before dawn, the air above her rippled.
No thunder this time. No blinding light.
A silver-white capsule slid out of thin air and dropped to the ground in front of her.
It didn't crash and bounce like metal. The moment it touched the earth, it unfolded with a gentle mechanical whirr, petals of alloy peeling back like a blooming steel lotus.
Hiss—
Warm air breathed outward.
In three seconds, a translucent egg-shaped barrier rose over the ruins, glowing with a dim, orange warmth. Black rain spattered against its surface and rolled off, unable to penetrate.
Li Xing's pupils widened.
A… divine palace?
She didn't dare move.
Years of being a lab rat had taught her to fear anything clean, bright, and advanced. In her experience, "high-tech" meant restraints, needles, scanners, cold scalpel blades and colder eyes.
Then a line of soft gold text materialized in front of her.
This was one of the "perks" Lu Jin's six-yuan top-up had unlocked: the Command Overlay.
[Go in. Sleep.]
The commands were short, stripped of decoration, carrying a quiet authority that allowed no refusal.
Li Xing shivered.
The Listener's voice. His words.
She bit down on her lip, then forced her wounded leg forward, dragging herself inch by inch toward the glowing "temple."
When her palm brushed the outer rim of the pod, the stab of electricity she'd braced for never came.
Instead, warmth seeped into her skin like the touch of sunlight. The pod door slid open with a soft sigh, revealing a pristine, cloud-white moisture-proof mat inside.
Li Xing froze.
It was too clean.
That pure white made the white coats in the lab look dingy. It looked softer than the clouds she'd once glimpsed through a crack in the bunker ceiling.
She looked down at herself.
Her lab coat was soaked in black mud and dried blood. Her bare feet were caked in irradiated sludge.
She was filth. A defective weapon. Trash.
She hesitated. Slowly drew her foot back, terrified of dirtying the gift her god had sent.
Outside the screen, Lu Jin frowned. He was about to send a second prompt when he saw what she did next—and his breath caught.
Li Xing clung to the edge of the opening, gritting her teeth through the ripping pain in her thigh. She scraped her muddy feet against a jagged rock again and again, grinding off clumps of dirt and scabs until her skin burned.
Only then did she kneel in the mud, like she was at some holy threshold, and "take off" shoes she didn't even have.
A ritual born from nothing but instinct.
Then, like a stray cat afraid of being kicked out of a warm doorway, she crawled into the pod on hands and knees.
The hatch closed silently behind her.
The howling wind and the hiss of black rain cut off in an instant.
The pod's soft climate system spooled up, pumping out gentle warmth until the interior reached a steady, perfect 24 degrees.
Li Xing curled up in the center of the mat, still trembling from the cold. She stared up at the small orange nightlight overhead, eyes wide.
Tears slipped down her temples without warning.
Not from pain.
From warmth.
It scared her, that comfort. It felt fragile, like one wrong breath would break the illusion.
To anchor herself to reality, she dug into her arms and pulled out the thing she'd been clutching all this time.
The candy wrapper.
The cheap, glossy scrap from the strawberry nutrient bar.
She carefully flattened the crumpled plastic out on her lap, fingers moving like she was smoothing silk. The faint sweetness clung to it still.
It was the prettiest thing she owned.
It was the only thing she owned.
Holding it in both hands like a treasure, she lifted it high toward the empty air. Toward the unseen eye she knew was watching.
For you…
Her lips shaped the words silently to the camera.
In the rental room, Lu Jin stared at the candy wrapper filling his screen.
For a moment, that flimsy piece of plastic shone brighter than any S-grade item description.
A system prompt cut into the feed.
["Utmost Sincerity" offering detected.][Observed subject Li Xing is attempting to present you with a "treasure".][Accept? (Note: Physical objects cannot be transferred. They will be converted into equivalent spiritual linkage.)]
"Accept," Lu Jin said hoarsely.
On screen, the wrapper dissolved into motes of light and scattered.
Li Xing didn't look upset at all.
If anything, she smiled—relieved.
Her god had taken her offering. That meant he acknowledged her. That meant he wasn't going to abandon her.
Relief flooded her like warm water.
Still hugging her knees, bathed in safety and heat, she finally let her eyes fall shut.
A soft tune drifted out of the pod.
The sound bled through Deep Space Echo's interface, passing through Lu Jin's phone speaker to fill the dim little room.
No fear in this melody. No panicked plea.
It was a lullaby. Gentle. Slow. A simple sequence of notes, but each one settled into the air like it was cushioning a fall.
["Requiem" Holy Echo detected.][Holy Resonance Energy feedback in progress…]
Pale golden lights seeped from the screen like fireflies, circling Lu Jin before sinking into his skin.
They burrowed into his screaming nerve endings, flooded every frayed pathway.
His eyelids grew heavy.
The phantom pain that had chewed through his bones for years—the needles of cold stabbing into his marrow—melted under the sound of that humming. It dissolved, piece by piece, like frost under a spring sun.
What took its place was weightless.
Soft.
Like sinking into a warm bath after a lifetime in the rain.
"This money… is worth every cent…" Lu Jin mumbled.
His fork slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the table.
He slumped sideways, collapsing onto the battered sofa, and slid straight into sleep.
For the first time in three years, he didn't need painkillers or sleeping pills to get there.
He slept like a child.
He slept too deeply.
Too well.
By the time the next morning's sunlight stabbed through the gap in the curtains and sliced across his face, Lu Jin jolted awake, blinking against the glare.
His hand flew out automatically, reaching for the painkillers on his bedside table.
His fingers closed on air.
"Huh?"
He froze.
Then, slowly, he rolled his neck.
His spine popped. No rush of white-hot agony followed.
His body was still fragile, muscles still thin, but the sense that he might fall apart with one wrong move had faded. The crushing weight was gone, replaced by a lighter, unfamiliar looseness.
"So this is what Holy Resonance can do…"
He stared at his hands. The light in his eyes flared, something wild and hungry kindling deeper inside.
If an E-rank girl like Li Xing could have this effect—
What would happen if she evolved?
To C-rank. B-rank. Higher. God-tier.
Curing his "terminal" condition stopped sounding like a fantasy. It sounded like a theoretical endpoint on a very clear graph.
His phone buzzed.
Lu Jin glanced down, expecting another notification from Deep Space Echo.
It was a text from reality.
[XX Bank]: Dear customer, your credit card bill this cycle is ¥3,890.00. Payment due date approaching. Please ensure sufficient funds.
A bucket of cold water over his head.
He swiped the message away and opened Deep Space Echo.
On-screen, Li Xing was still asleep inside the pod, a tiny sleeping beauty in a rented metal egg.
But in the top-right corner of the interface, a red countdown was still ticking down like a curse.
[Gene Collapse Countdown: 64 hours 12 minutes]
[Treatment Plan A: S-grade Gene Repair Serum (Store locked. Estimated price: ¥500,000.00)][Treatment Plan B: Continuous injection of high-purity Holy Resonance Energy (requires extreme emotional states from observed subject).]
Lu Jin stared at the "¥500,000" estimated cost.
Then at his own balance: ¥7,489.
The warmth from last night's shared lullaby evaporated. Reality bared its teeth again.
"Sixty-four hours…"
He pushed himself up from the sofa and walked to the window, yanking the curtains aside.
Outside, the steel metropolis throbbed with life. Giant holographic billboards screamed ads over the streets, colors washing the gray high-rises.
One particularly bright holo-display looped an ad for Gene Optimization Serum—sleek vials spinning in slow motion, smiling elites in immaculate suits.
Luxury for people who mattered.
"Broke, and she dies over there. Broke, and I die over here."
Lu Jin narrowed his eyes. A predator's glint flickered deep in his pupils.
He needed money.
A lot of it.
However this city worked, however rigged the game was—
He'd tear it up if he had to.