Around 8 o'clock, Liu Weian woke up. Although he had slept for just over two hours, he felt fully refreshed. Zhao Nannan and her daughter were already up. Since they lived in a basement with no windows, it remained dim inside even though it was already daylight outside. Liu Weian turned on the light and freshened up briefly.
"The landlord knocked earlier—probably here for the rent," Zhao Nannan said.
Liu Weian did a quick mental calculation. It was already the first day of March. He nodded, opened the door, and was immediately met by a blinding shaft of sunlight.
Mars had an extreme temperature difference between day and night—freezing cold in the evenings, scorching like midsummer during the day. Liu Weian closed the door behind him and left. Zhao Nannan and her daughter couldn't risk being seen; otherwise, they'd be taken away.
The streets bustled with life—people washing up, heading to work. Most wore the hollow look of malnutrition.
Although Liu Weian had lived here for over a month, he didn't know anyone. He had gone out fewer than five times, spending his days immersed in the game and his nights sleeping. Consequently, no one knew him, and he knew no one.
The landlord was a slightly overweight middle-aged man, rumored to be the steward of a powerful family. He managed several buildings in the area and had a reputation for maintaining order—no slaves or thugs dared stir trouble on his turf. Liu Weian had chosen to rent here precisely for that safety.
The basement cost 40 copper coins per month. Liu Weian's unit, which came with a private bathroom, cost 50. Water and electricity added 1 and 3 copper coins respectively—totaling 54.
The landlord was cold and aloof. Liu Weian didn't bother with small talk. He paid, took the receipt, and turned to leave. Nearby, a middle-aged woman was pleading desperately.
"Please, just five more days! We promise we'll get the rent together—"
"You still haven't paid last month's. I'm giving you three days, no more. If you can't pay, get out. There are plenty of people waiting to rent this place…" The landlord's voice was devoid of emotion.
Crossing through the run-down streets, Liu Weian headed toward the commercial district. The area was lively, a stark contrast to the ghostly wasteland it became at night.
Most people who could afford to rent were poor—too broke for better housing, so they stayed near the border of the slums and the slave zones, just to have some semblance of shelter. The slave zone had no industrial jobs, so anyone wanting work had to pass through the commercial district.
Behind the slums was a large industrial sector that supported hundreds of thousands.
Buildings here were centuries old, many collapsed or severely damaged. In every nook that offered even a sliver of shelter, emaciated slaves huddled, either lying down or sitting. Most were just skin and bones.
They were sunbathing. After each cold night, many failed to wake up. Those lucky enough to survive crawled out to absorb warmth. In narrower alleys, rough-looking men loitered—also slaves, but the more "successful" kind. Brawls, murder, arson—nothing was off-limits if it meant staying alive. Their ruthless nature kept them going, but even they had to work every day.
Slaves weren't entirely destitute. Every three days, they received a rationed energy tube. Some got lucky scavenging—finding food scraps, broken electronics, or even damaged firearms and ammo. Those who'd survived this long had their own ways of making it.
Those thugs? They lived off the others.
The commercial district was bustling. At a large square, thousands lined up, hoping to be hired by factories. Most were poor or commoners, with a handful of slaves trying their luck.
With more jobseekers than jobs, buses packed with people departed every few minutes, heading east past security checkpoints and vanishing from sight.
The settlement was divided into four zones—East, South, West, and North. East was for commoners, North for the poor, while South and West housed the slaves. The commercial district straddled the center. Since both South and West were slave areas, their borders were fluid. The poor districts were chaotic but had a semblance of order—unlike the slave zones.
In contrast, the East District was highly structured, tightly controlled. Massive walls and iron gates guarded its entrances. It felt like a completely different world.
Liu Weian wasn't particularly affected. That was just how the world worked now. Complaining wouldn't help. Surviving and slowly changing one's fate—that was all anyone could do.
Bottled water, which had once cost 2 copper for two bottles, now sold for 50 per bottle due to severe shortages caused by nuclear contamination. Luckily, humanity had evolved over centuries to become more drought-tolerant—otherwise, mass starvation would have followed.
Liu Weian bought four bottles of water and spent the rest of his money on dry food and compressed rations—enough for half a month. Upon returning home, he realized how much his body had strengthened. In the past, such a long trek would've left him exhausted. Now, he wasn't even breathing hard. His excitement for Plunder grew. What had once been a necessary grind now sparked genuine interest.
After eating, he logged in.
Daytime in the game was just as crowded. Liu Weian found it puzzling—did none of these people have jobs? As far as he knew, most players were desperate types. No one with a stable job would risk death in-game, especially when one death meant half a month of weakness.
His destination: the cemetery.
After spending over two hours crafting 90 arrows, Liu Weian set off. As he neared the cemetery, the sounds of battle reached his ears—his heart jumped. Someone was fighting there.
He dashed forward and saw over twenty rotting corpses locked in combat with a group of players—men and women, about a dozen in total. The fight had been going on for a while; the ground was littered with bodies, some disemboweled, with corpses feasting on them.
The situation was dire. A woman let out a piercing scream as one of the corpses latched onto her neck, biting viciously. Her screams weakened, then fell silent.
Only six people made it to the cemetery's edge—two of them already injured. Normally, they might have escaped, but the scent of blood drove the corpses into a frenzy.
The six looked hopeless. One particularly beautiful girl froze in fear, watching in horror as a corpse's razor-sharp claws closed in on her chest.
"Run!" a teammate screamed, but it was too late.
Just then—thwip!—a black streak of light shot from behind, striking the corpse square in the forehead. It collapsed instantly.
Thwip, thwip, thwip!
Three more arrows flew in rapid succession. The three leading corpses fell in a neat line, each pierced through the brow—one-shot kills.
The six survivors stared, stunned. Their eyes turned toward the archer: young, under twenty, slender, pale from long days without sunlight, with a strikingly handsome face. But what drew the most attention was his eyes—deep black and utterly cold.
Liu Weian didn't even glance at the others. His gaze remained locked on the incoming corpses. The bow in his hand thrummed—arrow after arrow shot out like lightning. In the blink of an eye, all twenty-something corpses lay dead.
The six players stood frozen until Liu Weian lowered his bow and began extracting white crystals from the corpses. Only then did they snap out of it.
A tall man—about 1.8 meters and seemingly their leader—stepped forward gratefully. "Thanks for saving us. I'm Wang Bai. There are so many corpses—let us help you."
"No need," Liu Weian replied without looking up.
"In that case, we'll be on our way," Wang Bai said. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes. He gave a subtle signal to a short teammate, then called out, "Let's go."
Heavy footsteps began retreating. Each teammate bid a polite farewell—except the short one, who quietly circled behind Liu Weian. A dagger flashed.
But it struck only air.
The moment he looked up, an arrow—huge in his vision—pierced his forehead.
Thwip.
Brain matter blossomed.
"Sh*t, run!" Wang Bai shouted, turning to flee.
Liu Weian relaxed slightly. Had they attacked him all at once, it might've been troublesome. But now they were just running targets.
Thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip!
Five arrows. Five screams. All five fell at once, arrows in their backs—dead before they hit the ground.
Liu Weian's expression remained unchanged. Though it was his first time killing other players, he felt no fear. He had seen too many killings and lootings these past days.
He moved quickly. In just ten minutes, he had finished harvesting all 26 corpses. Digging out crystals and meat sacs had become second nature by now. The result: 26 white crystals, 26 sacs.
Then he moved to Wang Bai's group—not to pay respects, but to loot.
Three daggers. One iron sword. One machete. A pair of boots. A lump of iron ore. A medicinal herb. Four silver and seventy-eight copper coins.
Liu Weian finally smiled.
Not bad. This bunch was worth the effort.