PFC Chapter 2: Central Land
Chapter 2: Central Land
Chapter 2: Central LandZhao suddenly found himself in a vast area, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. The landscape stretched endlessly before him, bordered by a dense forest of towering trees, their gnarled branches twisting into the violet-tinged sky.
"Huh, where am I?"
He felt nauseous, his stomach churning as though he'd been spun in circles for hours. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he steadied himself against a nearby rock, its surface rough and cold under his trembling fingers.
"Did I just get teleported?" Zhao muttered, his voice barely audible over the faint rustling of leaves. He could do nothing but sigh, his breath fogging in the chilly pre-dawn air.
The area was vast, unnaturally so, with a small, dilapidated hut standing at its center. A strange, translucent dome shimmered around the entire space, its surface rippling like water under an unseen breeze. Above, the sky was a tapestry of alien beauty—two moons hung low, their pale light casting overlapping shadows across the ground. The horizon glowed faintly, a sign that the sun would soon rise, though its warmth felt like a distant promise in this strange, foreboding place.
Zhao had no idea where he was. The forest loomed ominously, its depths shrouded in shadow, and the dome above felt more like a cage than protection. He glanced at the hut, its wooden walls weathered and splintered as if it had stood here for centuries. With no other options, he trudged toward it, his footsteps muffled by the soft, mossy ground.
Inside, the hut was sparse—a single bed with a threadbare blanket, a rickety wooden table, and a faint, musty smell that clung to the air. But what caught his attention was a timer etched into the wall beside the bed, its glowing digits counting down from 01:02:47. The numbers pulsed faintly, as if alive, and Zhao felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"It seems there's time for whatever is going to happen," he murmured, his voice echoing in the small space. He moved to sit on the bed, its frame creaking under his weight when a sudden voice pierced the silence, sharp and mechanical.
(Ding... Million Times Multiplier System has been activated)
(Assimilation in progress.....)
(10%)
(46%)
(80%)
(100%)
(Ding.. Assimilation complete)
(Initiating system, merging has started)
Zhao's head exploded with pain, a white-hot agony that felt like needles piercing his skull. His vision blurred, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the bed, his body trembling uncontrollably. Darkness swallowed him whole, and for what felt like an eternity, he was adrift in a void, his mind screaming against the intrusion.
.
.
.
(Merging complete)
.
.
.
When Zhao woke, his head throbbed, and his body ached as though he'd been beaten. He blinked groggily, his vision swimming, and saw the timer on the wall had dwindled to 00:03:38. He sat up slowly, wincing at the pain in his temples, and tried to focus.
"What... was that?" he whispered, clutching his head. He remembered the voice, the system, the percentages—but when he tried to summon it, to understand what had happened, nothing came. No interface, no explanation, just silence.
"It seems I can do nothing but wait for the countdown to end," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced around the hut,
{Attention: The 7-day Novice Period has begun. During this time, monsters will not be able to pass through your shield.}
(Use this time to prepare, as the event will officially start after this period.)
Zhao was taken aback, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. Here, he would have to kill—not just monsters, but his species—to survive. The realization hit him like a physical blow, cold and unyielding. It wasn't just about strength or luck; it was about choices, about morality, about how far he was willing to go to live.
But ultimately, it all depended on how you lived.
That's when he heard another announcement, its voice cutting through the silence like a blade, sharp and final.