11: Chapter 11 The End of the World

A day passed in the blink of an eye. Less than twenty-four hours remained until the sun would be extinguished.

Song Yang lay on his bed, opened the 'Residential Complex Owners Group,' and sent out a message.

【Building 6—Song Yang】: The end is near. I am currently offering a safe residence. Limited to young, beautiful, single women with large breasts and slender waists. Slots are limited; come quickly if interested.

After the message was sent, the group fell into an eerie silence for a few seconds.

In the next second, the notification sound for new messages began to ring frantically.

【Building 2, 801—Auntie Zhang】: @Song Yang, "What nonsense are you talking about? What apocalypse? I think you just haven't woken up from your daydreaming!"

【Property Management—Xiao Li】: @Song Yang, Mr. Song, please do not post false information in the group to incite panic.

【Building 5, 305—Brother Zhou】: Song Yang, have you gone crazy wanting a woman? And a young and beautiful one at that? If you're that thirsty, go find a prostitute.

【Building 1, 1403—Wang Qiang】: Lunatic! I think everyone is right; you are a complete and utter madman!

Talk of the apocalypse and taking in beauties... I think you've watched too many Japanese adult films; your brain is completely fried!

What decent woman would go to your place? Unless her head was caught in a door!

【Building 2, 502—Auntie Li】: What a sin! Such a fine young man, how did he end up like this? Song Yang, listen to your auntie's advice: if you're sick, get treated. Don't spend all day having wild fantasies.

【Building 4, 701—Boss Zhao】: Heh, I can't even get any even with money, and you want it for free?

Song Yang exited the owners' group and opened another WeChat group—'Doomsday Survival Mutual Aid Group'.

The people in this group were all individuals extremely obsessed with the end of the world.

When Song Yang claimed the apocalypse was coming, he directly became the group leader.

Although there weren't many people—only a few dozen—the atmosphere in the group was far more harmonious and friendly than the owners' group.

Everyone exchanged experiences on stockpiling supplies, shared tips on Shelter modifications, encouraged each other, and collectively looked forward to the arrival of the end times.

【Magic City—Li Ming】: Old Song, did your complex's owners' group explode? I saw the screenshots. Haha, those people are really something; none of them believe you.

【Chengdu—Wang Lei】: It's normal. They won't shed a tear until they see the coffin; they won't give up until they reach the Yellow River. When that day truly comes, it'll be too late for them to cry.

【Imperial Capital—Zhang Qiang】: Old Song, isn't your 'young and beautiful' condition a bit too harsh? If you ask me, as long as it's a woman, it should be fine.

Watching the discussion in the group, Song Yang tapped his finger and sent a red envelope worth a hundred yuan into the 'Doomsday Survival Mutual Aid Group'.

【First come, first served. Good luck to everyone.】

The red envelope was gone almost instantly.

Then, with a thought, his consciousness sank into the system space.

The sight before him was enough to drive anyone who had experienced the hunger and despair of the apocalypse insane.

The system space was like a boundless, giant warehouse.

Just the bottled pure mineral water alone was stacked neatly in ten thousand barrels, each a standard 18.9-liter size.

Based on his personal consumption, even if he drank as much as he wanted every day, it would be enough to last him over three hundred years.

Not to mention the mountain of food beside it, which nearly reached the 'ceiling' of the space.

Compressed biscuits, military canned goods, self-heating rice, various flavors of instant noodles, dehydrated vegetables, and freeze-dried meats were all on display, covering everything one could need.

From basic staples to luxury snacks, the variety was so rich and the quantity so vast that even if he ate until he died of old age in this life, the next life, and the life after that, he wouldn't even consume a tenth of it.

In addition to water and food, there were medicines, weapons, fuel, tools, and clothing; almost every supply one could think of for apocalyptic survival was included here.

To get the money to buy these things, he had mortgaged everything he could to the bank.

Looking at all this, an indescribable sense of security welled up in Song Yang's heart.

This was his greatest confidence for making a living in the apocalypse!

Recalling his previous life, he, like countless others, had struggled to survive for half a piece of moldy bread or a mouthful of turbid, dirty water after the darkness descended.

In the end, he had met a tragic fate when hungry Neighbors broke down his door and devoured him to fill their bellies. Song Yang's gaze turned a few degrees colder.

In this life, he would not only survive, but he would also live better than anyone else!

As for those who mocked him?

He hoped they would still be able to laugh when the time came.

His consciousness withdrew from the system space, and his gaze landed on the attribute panel.

The panel clearly displayed: 【Ordinary Survivor LV.0 (EXP 0/100)】.

The experience points hadn't budged at all, which was exactly as he had expected.

It seemed that the growth of this experience would indeed have to wait until that star, which had burned for billions of years, was completely extinguished.

He glanced at the time displayed at the top of his phone.

10:15 PM.

According to his calculations based on his memories, exactly ten hours and five minutes remained until the darkness that could swallow everything descended.

He walked to the window, reached out, and carefully pulled back a corner of the heavy blackout curtains to look outside.

The streetlights below cast dim circles of yellow light, and a few scattered windows in the complex were lit.

Further away, the city's neons continued to flicker, outlining the false prosperity of the metropolis under the night sky.

This final display of revelry was merely the last feast before execution.

Song Yang let go of the curtain, and the thick fabric once again blocked out the external light and scenery.

...

The next morning, Song Yang stood by the window early.

His phone screen was lit, showing the time: 8:15 AM.

Five minutes remained until the sun would be extinguished.

He could hear the sounds coming from outside the residential complex.

The screams of children chasing and playing came from below, mixed with the impatient scolding of parents.

On the distant road, car horns honked one after another.

In the complex's garden, a few early-rising elderly people were stretching their limbs, while a radio played the melodic sounds of traditional opera.

Everything was no different from yesterday, or any other day in the past.

Everyone was busy with their respective lives—for their daily bread, for fame and fortune.

Worrying, anxious, or joyful over things that would become completely meaningless in a few minutes.

No one looked up at the sky.

Or rather, even if they did, they couldn't see anything unusual.

That star, which had burned for billions of years, was still faithfully performing its duty, shedding light and heat onto the earth and maintaining the operation of this world.

Until—

8:20 AM.

There was no warning, no gradual fading.

It was as if someone had flipped the universe's power switch.

The light peeking through the gaps in the curtains vanished instantly.

It wasn't blocked; the light source itself had been extinguished.

Outside the window, the continuous city noise came to an eerie standstill at that moment.

The screams stopped abruptly, the car horns sounded as if they had been strangled, and even the rhythmic thudding of the distant construction site's pile driver paused suddenly.

A deep, viscous darkness, as if from the primordial chaos, like ink dropping into clear water, arrogantly swallowed the entire world with unstoppable speed.

The sky went black.

It wasn't the deep black of night, adorned with stars.

It was a pure, total, heart-stopping void.

The sun, that giant ball of fire hanging in the sky and regarded by humanity as a symbol of eternity, became a blurred black hole, greedily sucking away all light.

Song Yang felt it.

That familiar, bone-chilling cold and despair were silently spreading through the walls and windows.

The apocalypse had arrived.