Chapter 22 Three-in-One

**Chapter 22: Three-in-One**

"Ji An, over here!" Ji An had just picked out his food when he heard someone call him. He turned and saw Kong Zhongcheng waving at him.

Sitting with him were Wan Xueying, Gu Jinsheng, and Zhou Qin—the plant-type super who had once brought a counter to Ji An’s shop.

Balancing his tray, Ji An walked over to the table.

"Why are you eating here?" The super cafeteria was separate from the researchers'.

Kong Zhongcheng grinned. "We came to scrounge a better meal."

They had overheard the whispers earlier in the cafeteria. Though most thought Ji An’s spatial storage device experiment sounded far-fetched, they still felt it was wrong to talk behind his back.

Kong Zhongcheng hadn’t planned to bring it up, but as he looked Ji An over, he noticed something—off.

"You look refreshed," he said slowly. "But… different somehow." Then realization hit him. "Wait. Ji An, did your mental-type power break through again?"

Ji An speared a piece of steak and took a bite. The meat was tender and flavorful, enhanced by pepper—far better than anything he’d eaten in pre-apocalypse diners.

After chewing thoughtfully and taking a sip of water, he replied, "Yes, I made a minor breakthrough."

"How is that even possible?" Advancement wasn’t like eating or drinking. Ji An had only broken through right before arriving at the base. Could this mean…

Then, in his usual detached tone, as if describing something trivial, Ji An added, "I finished the spatial storage device, so my ability evolved. Professor Zhou was right—the correct path for mental-types is research, not combat."

"What? You actually completed the spatial storage device?"

Kong Zhongcheng shot up from his seat in shock, knocking his tray to the floor.

Food and drink splattered across the floor. Every head in the cafeteria turned toward them.

"Impossible! It's fake—he must be lying!" Zhao Zhen, who had been silently watching Ji An from another table, twisted in fury, his eyes burning with resentment.

Han Yaokun frowned slightly, eyeing Ji An with skepticism.

Through the chaos, Ji An remained calm, continuing to eat without a care.

He didn’t bother explaining. Instead, he simply placed the smallest spatial storage device he had created onto the table.

Kong Zhongcheng reached for it, but Gu Jinsheng beat him to it, picking up the jade pendant first.

Kong Zhongcheng was practically tearing his hair out. This was the legendary item from xianxia stories—a real spatial storage device! And yet, since it was in Gu Jinsheng’s hands—his boss—he couldn’t just snatch it back. All he could do was strain his neck, desperate for a glimpse.

The entire cafeteria fell silent, every eye fixed on them—except Ji An, who kept eating.

Gu Jinsheng examined the pendant for a moment, then, as if instinctively understanding how it worked, flicked his wrist—and the tray on the table disappeared into thin air.

"B-boss, did you awaken spatial powers?" Kong Zhongcheng blurted, immediately realizing how dumb the question sounded. "T-the spatial storage device is real!"

His voice squeaked in excitement, rising to an ear-splitting pitch.

At once, a wave of clattering trays filled the room. Within seconds, the entire cafeteria swarmed the table, surrounding them in layers of curious onlookers.

Zhao Zhen’s face turned ashen, his eyes full of venomous hatred. "This can't be real! They’ve all been tricked—it has to be some childish gimmick!"

No one paid any attention to Zhao Zhen. Everyone was too busy jostling for a better view. Even the usually reserved researchers abandoned decorum, some climbing onto tables, straining to see.

Kong Zhongcheng was ready to grovel. "Boss, boss, please let me take a look!"

Gu Jinsheng didn’t look at Kong Zhongcheng, focusing instead on Ji An. “Got anything bigger?”

Ji An nodded and pulled a jade bracelet from his spatial storage. This time, Gu Jinsheng handed the teardrop-shaped jade to Kong Zhongcheng and picked up the bracelet himself. Though his handsome face remained expressionless, Ji An still caught a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

Kong Zhongcheng wasn’t clueless—he messed with it a bit and got the hang of it fast. Then he started pulling the plate out and sucking it back in, messing with it endlessly.

Each time he did, the crowd kept gasping in shock.

He kept playing, and the simple act of storing and retrieving held the audience spellbound—they were glued to the show, eating it up.

One researcher who knew him shouted from the back, “Hey, Deputy Kong, lemme see!”

Right—Kong was the Deputy Commander of the Capital Base.

Still too hooked to share, Kong waved him off with fake solemnity. “You break it, you pay for it. You got that kinda cash?”

The man shut up. Where would he get that kind of money? This was straight out of a xianxia novel!

Gu asked, “This for sale?”

Ji An had just finished eating, setting down his knife and fork. He nodded. “Of course. Why bother making it otherwise?”

Gu’s face stayed blank, but his tone edged with impatience. “How much?”

“Twenty mil credits,” Ji An said. “That one’s got 200 cubic meters.”

“I’ll take it.” Gu tapped his wristband. “Sending the credits now.”

Ji An eyed the bracelet and then Gu’s thick wrist. “That won’t fit your wrist.”

Gu stiffened slightly. “I’ll wear it around my neck.”

Yeah, hanging it like a necklace worked, even if it looked kinda tacky.

But treasure like this didn’t come along every day—a few flaws weren’t a big deal.

Ji An shrugged and pulled five more pieces of jewelry from his space, dropping them on the table. “Take your pick.”

Gu grabbed the necklace with nine gemstone charms strung together. “Biggest one?”

“More or less. Each charm holds 200–300 cubic meters. It’s a full set, so pricier than singles—300 mil.”

“Done.” Gu wired the payment instantly. As top brass, that was pocket change.

Gu studied Ji An seriously. “Thanks.”

Ji An understood—it wasn’t about the sale. The thanks was for taking credits as payment.

Every base had its own credit points, but they were monopoly money outside their own turf. Most small bases used goods or crystal cores instead.

Credits were like pre-apocalypse paper. Once the base fell, those points became trash. People couldn’t trade them outside for squat, so nobody fully trusted them.

A base where people actually used credits meant strength. Meant trust.

By dealing in credits, Ji An had just propped up the base’s rep.

As the highest-ranking commander of the base, Gu Jinsheng’s gratitude toward Ji An was indescribable.

Ji An smiled. “I’m part of the base too.”

Ji An had always been that kind of person—once he chose to believe in something, he committed completely; if betrayed, he cut ties without looking back.

“I’ll take this one.” Wan Xueying wasn’t slow when it came to grabbing goods. She snatched up the jade bracelet Gu Jinsheng had set aside—she’d had her eye on it for a while.

Wan Xueying immediately transferred the credits to Ji An, and soon after, Ji An realized every last spatial storage device he had placed on the table was gone.

Luckily, the researchers were honest, and Ji An quickly received a series of credit transfers.

Those who managed to grab one acted like they’d struck gold, guarding their prize fiercely. Two researchers even duked it out over the same item until one came out on top.

Kong Zhongcheng gawked at the teardrop-shaped jade in his hand, on the verge of tears. “Mine’s the smallest—only one cubic meter!”

A researcher beside him immediately chimed in, “Commander Kong, one cubic meter is too small for someone of your status. Hand it over to me instead?”

“I can hear your scheming from a mile away.” Better small than empty-handed.

Undeterred, the researcher laughed it off and dropped the matter.

Ji An sighed and pulled another pendant from his space. “Here, this one’s for you—150 cubic meters.”

“Thank you!” Kong Zhongcheng accepted it gleefully.

The same annoying researcher butted in immediately. “Researcher Ji, I don’t mind a small one—sell this to me!”

Ji An shook his head. “Sorry, this one’s spoken for.”

The man looked disappointed but then turned to beg those who had already bought items for a chance to see theirs.

“Ji An, you really did it.” Zhou Fanxiu and the others had slipped in unnoticed at some point and had been watching for who knew how long.

Zhou Fanxiu’s gaze toward Ji An was complex, but mostly filled with pride and relief.

Ji An grinned. “Glad I didn’t disappoint. Professor, this is for you.”

He handed Zhou Fanxiu the Guanyin jade necklace he had saved specifically. Zhou Fanxiu hadn’t expected Ji An to have reserved one for him, and his eyes lit up with pure delight.

“I’ll transfer the credits to you,” Zhou Fanxiu said at once.

“No need, Professor. This is a gift from your student.” The Space Necklace Zhou Fanxiu had given him was the real treasure.

“Thank you.” The gift was valuable, but it also represented Ji An’s equally precious sincerity. Zhou Fanxiu knew that saying more might hurt his student’s feelings, so he accepted it gratefully, vowing to repay Ji An’s kindness in the future.

After briefly inspecting the gift, Zhou Fanxiu placed it around Bai Na’s neck. Her face lit up with surprise. “Men wear Guanyin, women wear Buddha—this suits you.”

Zhou Fanxiu chuckled. “Our family doesn’t follow such traditions.”

Bai Na blushed, and the air between them turned sweet and flirty.

Ji An felt a twinge of envy but refused to think of Chen Chen—trash belongs in the trash, not worth a second thought.

“Ji An, do you have any more spatial storage devices? I’d like to buy one too.” Han Yaokun worked up the nerve, his face flushed red as he spoke.

The moment he spoke, the room went dead silent, every eye locked onto them.

“None left. This batch’s gone.” Ji An kept his expression neutral, treating him like just another buyer rather than the guy who’d doubted and ridiculed him.

"Everyone who bought a spatial storage device, come to my lab later to disperse your psychic field."

Ji An used his psychic energy to create a mental lock over the spatial storage devices. With this in place, those testing the devices wouldn’t be able to form a contract with them.

"Got it, got it—demagnetization, right?"

Grinning, everyone followed him to the lab to clear their psychic imprints and, under Ji An's guidance, proceeded to form contracts.

Only one chose a hereditary contract; the rest went for binding contracts.

This outcome was exactly what Ji An had expected.

That night, Beijing Base was anything but quiet. The homes of researchers lucky enough to get a spatial storage device were swarmed with visitors, each household packed with dozens of people. Doors stayed open all night, and sleep was impossible.

Even though others couldn't open a spatial storage device bound by a binding contract, that didn’t stop them from watching the owners put things in and take things out.

As for the one without a forced contract, its owner kept it a secret.

Among the researchers, every conversation revolved around the spatial storage devices.

"Something you only see once in a blue moon—cultivation novel gadgets actually being developed!"

Didn’t you mock Researcher Ji not too long ago?

"Hey, don’t blame me! Han Yaokun, Na Boyu, and Zhou Fanxiu all said it was impossible. Those are the top experts in our lab—if they said it couldn’t be done, who’d dare argue?"

"Researcher Ji dared."

"That’s because he had the skills—and now he’s done it!"

"I wonder how Han Yaokun and his hyperactive apprentice are feeling now. Bet they’re eating crow!"

The powered folks in the base were also buzzing about the news.

Wan Xueying said to Gu Jinsheng, "Boss, Researcher Ji is legit impressive!"

Kong Zhongcheng stroked his spatial storage device with delight. "This is insane! Absolutely insane!"

Zhou Qin added, "Boss, a genius like him—even if he hasn’t manifested any abilities and is just an ordinary person—can create miracles with a lab. Why did Chen Chen from the Third Base treat him like trash?"

Kong Zhongcheng chimed in, "I’m dying to know too. How could someone as brilliant and good-looking as Ji An get cheated on? What kind of woman could pull that off—a literal goddess?"

"Even a goddess wouldn’t stand a chance! With Ji’s brain, he could make them rich and famous overnight!"

"Morons," Gu Jinsheng muttered.

Wan Xueying scoffed, "The world’s full of people who can’t tell gold from garbage. But boss, we should assign someone to protect Researcher Ji. This operation wasn’t foolproof—I’m worried rivals might pull a fast one."

Gu Jinsheng nodded. "I’ll bring it up with him."

In the lab, Han Yaokun, Zhao Zhen, Na Boyu, Zhou Fanxiu, and Bai Na wore varying expressions—the first two looking like they'd seen a ghost, the latter three biting back grins out of politeness.

"Researcher Zhou, could you let us examine your spatial storage device?" Han Yaokun gritted his teeth, still refusing to believe it was real.

Zhou Fanxiu declined immediately. "Apologies, Researcher Han. This was a gift from my student—strictly personal property. I can’t allow it to be used for experimental research."

Bai Na smiled. "Xiao An will develop more in the future. The lab can petition the base to buy some for study then."

Han Yaokun’s face turned thunderous. Was she rubbing salt in the wound?

A researcher who's won international awards actually has to buy research from a student at the base for study—how does that make any sense?

Zhao Zhen retorted indignantly, "Spatial storage devices are ultimately just minor conveniences. Having them or not doesn’t change the big picture. Our mentor simply hadn’t considered this direction before—he’s focused on bigger goals, thinking about how to reshape humanity’s future.

The Zombie Vaccine is what truly benefits mankind."

Na Boyu, worried he might provoke Han Yaokun and Zhao Zhen into some kind of outburst, quickly added, "The Zombie Vaccine is definitely our top priority. Professor Han always puts the people first."

But in his mind, he had stopped underestimating Ji An.

Of course, many researchers were secretly competing, thinking that if someone like Ji An—who had no major research accomplishments beforehand—could come up with something like this, it couldn't be that difficult. They were just stuck in their own mental boxes.

They firmly believed that once they could get ahold of one, they could produce it just as easily.

At this time, nobody at Third Base knew that such a game-changing spatial storage device had already been created. They were caught up in an argument over Tang Tang—or more accurately, over her spatial ability.

Just a few days ago, Shen Mo had led a team outside the base on a mission. They had successfully completed it, obtaining a peak-Level 3 Zombie Core and a 200-pound mutated domestic pig that hadn’t been infected with the zombie virus.

The whole team was thrilled, only to be jumped on the way back by another team with higher-level superpowered individuals.

They returned in disgrace, all of them fuming.

Although part of their anger was directed at the raiders, they couldn’t fight back against those people, so their frustration shifted toward Tang Tang.

"Commander Chen, we’re not just taking it out on her unfairly. If Miss Tang had gone with us, our losses wouldn’t have been this bad." The reason spatial superpowered individuals are valuable isn’t just because they're rare—it's because they can store food and supplies.

When going on missions, they can carry all the food needed, and anything placed in their storage space remains hidden from others.

So when a team with a spatial user returns with a lot of loot, other teams can't tell whether they've just left the base, are coming back, or how much they’ve collected.

Potential attackers usually back off when they don’t have that information, avoiding many unnecessary losses.

Also, superpowered teams generally avoid attacking teams that include spatial users—if the spatial user dies, their storage space becomes permanently sealed, and everything inside disappears along with them.

After all that effort, injuries and risks would lead to nothing, making it a losing gamble.

"Miss Tang keeps saying her healing ability was drained from healing Song Pengcheng last time and that she hasn’t recovered enough to go on missions. But it's already been a month—even people hurt worse than her have recovered. Commander Chen, even you, with your serious injuries, have healed enough to return to work. How much longer does Miss Tang need to rest?"

Chen Chen’s internal and external injuries weren’t fully healed yet, but he couldn’t afford to keep resting.

Though Third Base wasn’t huge, plenty of people were waiting for a chance to take his position.

Ever since he was seriously injured in the last battle, Ji An disappeared, and rumors spread that he had been mentally compromised and might never advance again, old rivals started making moves again.

Chen Chen refused to let anyone take advantage of him while he was weak. He had to act like he was healed, whether he really was or not.

But while his body could heal, Tang Tang’s power wouldn’t be coming back soon.

Zhang Yu snapped, "Miss Tang gets such a high monthly salary—how much longer is she planning to stay on leave?"

Rare abilities like Spatial Storage and Healing Power meant special treatment in almost every base.

For example, they received a fixed monthly salary, only needed to participate in a few mandatory missions, and still shared in the high-value rewards. Any additional missions they took on earned them personal profits.

That’s why so many people envied Tang Tang.

Tang Tang wanted to try the same act again—burst into tears and run away—but she knew it wouldn’t work this time.

Chen Chen understood her real condition and didn’t dare make any promises either.

Song Pengcheng, clueless but stubborn, snapped defiantly, "What's the rush? If someone with a rare and precious ability like Tang Tang isn't properly cared for, who'll take responsibility if she develops lasting complications later?"

The group left angrily, reaching no resolution.

After leaving, Zhang Yu grumbled, "Boss, that Chen Chen is clearly nursing hidden injuries. I heard his former lover even left a mental compulsion on him—he might never advance his powers again. Should we..."

Zhang Yu drew a finger across his throat.

Shen Mo's eyes gleamed with consideration. "Let's wait and see. Tang Tang is a spatial user after all. Without her support, getting supplies for the base would be way more difficult. Over time, people will start complaining."

Zhang Yu scoffed, "That woman Tang Tang is nothing but a manipulative bitch. Only Chen Chen is blind enough not to see it. He ditched the loyal and powerful Ji An for some two-faced schemer."

Shen Mo remarked pointedly, "How do you know Chen Chen doesn’t see it? Maybe he just prefers that type. Besides, do you really think everyone in this world is a fool? Ji An may be loyal, but how can psychic abilities compare to the rarity of spatial and healing dual powers?

No one in this world is truly stupid!"

Meanwhile, Chen Chen and Tang Tang were also discussing the situation. Tang Tang asked in a trembling voice, "Brother Chen, what should we do? If this goes on, they’ll find out sooner or later, and then we're finished!"

Chen Chen’s face fell. "Our only option now is to find Ji An and get the Space Necklace back."

"Such a treasure—why would Ji An ever agree to return it?" Tang Tang wailed.

"Regardless, we have to try," Chen Chen said. "Prepare yourself. In a few days, we’ll head to the Capital Base. You’ll come with us claiming it's a mission."

"Okay," Tang Tang agreed.

After leaving the research institute, Ji An went to the shop.

Tang Ning wasn’t alone—there was a customer inside, and the two seemed to be in a loud argument.

"What's going on?" Ji An asked as he entered.

Tang Ning immediately explained, "Our shop requires sellers to sign for their jade pieces and take photos as proof. When he came to sell his jade earlier, he kept refusing to sign himself and insisted I do it for him.

I told him I wouldn’t accept it unless he signed, so he finally did."

Tang Ning fumed. "He brought it in yesterday, and this morning, he suddenly came back wanting to cancel the sale.

Fine, I was ready to return it, but then he accused me of swapping his item.

A worthless hunk of jade like that isn’t even worth a loaf of bread—who’d bother swapping it?"

Tang Ning still didn’t know Ji An had developed a spatial storage device and still saw jade as worthless junk.

The man, who had been aggressive with Tang Ning, immediately backed down when he saw Ji An, his eyes shifting guiltily.

"This isn’t the Guanyin pendant I sold. The one I had was much higher quality—I paid over a million for it before the apocalypse," the man muttered unconvincingly.

Ji An didn't take either side. Instead, he compared the photos and the pendant carefully and confirmed it was the exact same piece the man had originally sold.

Ji An said, "I see no evidence of a swap. Since this gentleman insists we switched his item, Tang Ning, go fetch the patrol and let them judge."

"Fine, I’ll go right now." Tang Ning threw the man a dirty look and turned to leave.

But the man moved faster, grabbing the Guanyin pendant from Tang Ning’s hand while grumbling, "Whatever, consider it my loss."

Tang Ning fumed, "My loss? He was just trying to pull a fast one!"

“No need to take it to heart. When running a business, you encounter all sorts of things.” Ji An took out the Space Necklace, which had only one cubic meter of storage space. “My research paid off. This is a spatial storage device—I’m giving it to you.”

Tang Ning’s mouth opened and closed in shock, stunned into silence. After a long pause, she finally trembled as she reached for the necklace and whispered, “M-Mr. Ji, is this real? Am I dreaming?”

“No,” Ji An replied. “Try it. Prick your finger, drip blood onto the jade, then focus your attention and feel it with all your mind…”

Tang Ning chose the forceful binding method. For an ordinary person like her to attempt a transfer contract was like a child holding gold—ripe for exploitation.

Once the contract was successful, Tang Ning could sense the space inside. Though only one cubic meter, it was more than enough for her.

“Mr. Ji, this must be incredibly valuable. I can’t accept it for free. How much does it cost? Deduct it from my salary.” Ji An had already saved her from Third Base and given her a new life—one for which she was profoundly grateful. Now he was giving her something so precious that it went beyond money; it was about the sentiment behind it.

“This is an employee gift. If you really want to thank me, just work hard.” Ji An wasn’t some generous benefactor throwing money around. He gave Tang Ning this gift precisely so she would remain loyal and diligent in her work, without cutting corners.

Ji An knew the best way to make an employee feel a sense of belonging was through bonuses. If the pay was good enough, employees could treat the company like home.

That evening when he returned home, Gu Jinsheng was already there, having prepared a full-course banquet. Ji An raised an eyebrow. “Did you invite friends?”

“No, it’s to celebrate you,” Gu Jinsheng said.

Ji An paused. He hadn’t expected anyone to care—or rather, he thought no one would care about his success, only the results. A warmth blossomed in his chest. It was true—no matter the time or place—the feeling of being remembered and cherished was like a gentle breeze, intoxicating without the need for wine.

“Thank you.” Ji An wasn’t one for affectation, and since this was clearly meant for him, he accepted it gladly.

Gu Jinsheng, ever the gentleman, pulled out a chair for Ji An. As soon as he sat down, Gu flicked a switch, and the dining room plunged into darkness.

Silently, Gu moved to Ji An’s side, half-leaning over him. One arm rested on the back of Ji An’s chair, the other braced against the table. Ji An found himself loosely encircled in Gu Jinsheng’s embrace—and it was then he realized Gu Jinsheng was a full head broader than him.

Ji An’s nose was filled with Gu Jinsheng’s distinct masculine scent, reminiscent of sandalwood.

Yet sandalwood was supposed to be a light, calming fragrance, soothing to the mind. Somehow, though, the sandalwood on Gu Jinsheng felt like the eerie calm before a storm—deceptively tranquil, hiding sharp edges. Like a predator lying in wait.

“Look outside,” Gu murmured in the dark, his voice laced with a husky undertone, making it even more magnetic and pleasing to the ear.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!* Fireworks exploded across the night sky, bursting into dazzling brilliance.

What had once been ordinary before the apocalypse was now a rare luxury.

Though many factories had resumed production, explosives were in such high demand that no one bothered making frivolous fireworks anymore. Even in Jing City Base, aside from New Year celebrations, fireworks were a rare sight.

People who had already gone to bed rushed outside, gazing up at the spectacle. Children shrieked in delight, while couples quietly held hands and kissed. Beneath the night sky, everyone found their own slice of romance.

Third Base was just a minor settlement, barely scraping together explosives—let alone fireworks.

Ji An couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such vibrant fireworks, a common sight before the apocalypse. And now, they were bursting just for him—making the moment all the more special.

Wordlessly, he moved to the window, the riot of colors reflecting in his eyes, breathtakingly beautiful.

“Thank you.”

“Wait—there’s more,” Gu Jinsheng murmured, standing just half a step behind Ji An.

Then he moved past Ji An, sliding open the balcony door. Under the night sky, he glanced back—his godlike features glowing with an almost divine radiance.

Slowly, he raised his arm. Suddenly, lightning split the sky, thunder roaring with such fury it seemed a downpour was imminent. The couples and onlookers who had just been basking in the moment scattered in panic.

Ji An was startled by Gu Jinsheng’s sudden action—but what happened next left him gaping in disbelief.

Amid the lightning and thunder, a majestic and domineering dragon writhed and coiled, its body dazzling with electric sparks, crackling and popping.

The Thunder Dragon suddenly turned its head, its golden eyes gleaming as it fixed its gaze on Ji An. Before Ji An could react, the dragon abruptly opened its massive maw and blasted a fireball straight toward him.

Startled, Ji An instinctively took two steps back, colliding with Gu Jinsheng’s chest like solid steel.

Gu Jinsheng steadied Ji An with both hands, his voice low and hypnotic, “Don’t be afraid.”

Collecting himself, Ji An looked up again to see the fireball hanging motionless just outside his window before suddenly exploding.

Amidst the flashes of lightning and scattered sparks, the fireball exploded into glowing words: “Congratulations on the success of Project JA.”

The mighty Thunder Dragon, still circling the sky, now swooped down beside the words and raised a claw in salute toward Ji An, as if offering congratulations.

The once-intimidating dragon, now acting this way, lost its terrifying aura and instead appeared endearingly goofy.

“Sorry, I couldn’t display your full name—had to use initials instead.”

“It’s fine.” Ji An was at a loss for words to describe how he felt at that moment. All he knew was that he was truly, deeply happy!

So happy that, in that instant, he felt his rebirth and struggle through this messed-up world had been worth it.

Gu Jinsheng’s spectacle not only shook Ji An’s heart but also threw the whole base into chaos. With such a grand display, who in the base could have missed it?

Overnight, the streets buzzed with chatter. “What happened last night? I thought the sudden lightning meant a storm was coming, but then a giant dragon appeared out of nowhere, blasting fireballs. I thought we were done for—damn, had to be two superpowered duking it out. If superpowered that powerful went at it, half the base would’ve been blown to bits. How could we common folk survive?

But then, out of nowhere, the fireball exploded into glowing words. And damn, that mighty dragon suddenly started doing fool bows in the sky.

Ugh, only later did I realize—that superpowered wasn’t trying to kill us, he was shoving couple’s PDA down our throats!

So stuffed. So damn stuffed I wanna hurl!

Damn superpowered!”

A girl nearby rolled her eyes at the ranting boy, then cupped her face, eyes sparkling. “So romantic! Before the apocalypse, I thought someone setting off fireworks by the river just for me would be the height of romance. But after the apocalypse, I figured even that was a fairy tale—something I’d never experience again. Who knew superpowered could pull off something like this?”

Another girl jumped in, equally envious, “Makes me want to find a superpowered boyfriend to do something like this for me.”

“Stop dreaming.” Just then, Kong Zhongcheng happened to pass behind the chatting girls. He scoffed, “Do you have any idea how much superpower that kind of display burns through? I’m telling you, it’s no less exhausting than fighting a Level 6 zombie. This is just a case of someone with too much power and too little to do! Any weaker superpowered would’ve been wiped out pulling that off—no romance, just straight to an early grave!”

The two girls immediately shot Kong Zhongcheng identical glares with their big, pretty eyes. “Tone-deaf, romance-illiterate dude!”

Grumbling, they glared at him once more before stomping off together.

After a few steps, as if still unsatisfied, one girl suddenly turned back. Kong Zhongcheng, thinking she might apologize, was instead met with a sharp stomp on his foot. The girl stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry, then bolted.

Kong Zhongcheng froze in disbelief. Since when had superpowered become so worthless that any ordinary, non-awakened girl could stomp on them in broad daylight?

This street was a common route for base command staff. Wan Xueying, riding her sleek motorcycle, happened to pass by and witness the scene. Without even slowing down, she blazed past, flinging back the words “Serves you right!” which echoed in Kong Zhongcheng’s ears.

Meanwhile, the Command Center was losing it, everyone speculating about who had orchestrated last night’s spectacle.

“Who pulled off that massive show last night?” someone asked.

“If our boss weren’t a robot, I’d have suspected him. That superpower was terrifying!”

“Without this, I’d never have guessed our base had such hidden talents. Who knew we had superpowered this powerful just lying low?”

Just then, Zhou Qin strolled past leisurely. “Think about it—who else but our boss could wield such terrifying superpower and then mess around with it like it’s nothing?”

"No way!" someone declared firmly. "Our boss is a robot impostor. What would a robot know about love?"

"Wait, seriously? You actually believe those ridiculous rumors from the base—that our boss is just some robot figurehead put up by the factions to maintain balance?"

"Huh, isn't he?"

"Of course not."

"But our boss is ridiculously strong! Most importantly, he's had the same expression all these years—I've never seen him show any emotion other than a blank face."

"Could it be... he's just got resting boss face?"

"Shut up!" Wan Xueying walked in, giving each of them a sharp rap on the head. "If you value your lives, shut up. The boss is here."

As soon as Wan Xueying finished speaking, the tall, imposing figure strode in. Everyone fell silent under Gu Jinsheng’s cold, chiseled, stone-cold handsome face.

Only Kong Zhongcheng, never knowing when to quit, barged in and shouted at Gu Jinsheng, "Boss! I challenge you today!"

Kong Zhongcheng let out a weird laugh. "You gotta be drained after all that superpower use last night. Finally, I can take down the boss just once—even cheap-shotting him would be enough for me to brag about for a lifetime!"

Gu Jinsheng didn’t even blink. And then… there was no “then.” Kong Zhongcheng was defeated in one move and slunk off like a kicked puppy.

Gu Jinsheng scanned the room with that intimidating stare. "Anyone else?"

Everyone lowered their heads, busying themselves with work, dusting, or tying shoelaces—anything to avoid meeting Gu Jinsheng’s eyes.

Satisfied, Gu Jinsheng left.

The second he was out the door, the command center erupted.

"Holy shit! Did the boss just tacitly admit that last night’s fireworks were his doing?"

"He didn’t deny Deputy Commander Kong’s accusation—that’s as good as confirmation!"

"Holy crap—who would’ve guessed! Ironwood blooming! Guess you really do see everything if you live long enough."

"But seriously, the boss is next-level strong. Playing around with his powers like that and still one-shotting Kong today? Kong could wreck me in one hit."

"I’m more curious about who managed to thaw out our ‘robot’ boss."

"Word is it’s a new researcher at the institute. They can throw down too."

"A researcher? Are they pretty?"

"It’s not about looks—though they are attractive. More importantly, they’re brilliant. Heard they developed a spatial storage device in just a month and a half!"

"A spatial storage device? Isn’t that something out of a cultivation novel?"

"Yeah well, superpowers used to be sci-fi too."

"Deputy Commander Zhou scored one—ask him if you don’t believe it!"

Zhou Qin, who hadn’t left yet, got mobbed immediately, everyone yelling to get a look at his spatial storage device.

Yesterday’s incident happened at the institute. Big as it was, it hadn’t spread to the command center—until now. Zhou Qin almost got torn apart in the stampede.

In the research institute, people were also discussing what had happened last night.

Zhou Fanxiu had figured out part of it and smiled at Bai Na, saying, “Being young is great. Young love is so fiery and direct—it’s always so beautiful.”

Bai Na, reminiscing about their own younger days, replied with a sweet smile, “We had our sweet moments too back in the day.”

Na Boyu, a confirmed bachelor, couldn’t wrap his head around all this. He scarfed down his food, itching to get back to the lab.

Han Yaokun didn’t have much to say—he simply thought kids these days get worked up over nothing.

But Zhao Zhen was losing it, his jealousy twisting his entire face.

He wasn’t into men, so it wasn’t that he envied Ji An for being liked by Gu Jinsheng. What drove Zhao Zhen mad with envy was Ji An’s luck.

Ji An hadn’t even produced a single notable scientific achievement yet. Before the apocalypse, he was just an ordinary student. Yet in barely over a month, he’d managed to create a breakthrough that set the whole base buzzing.

As for Zhao Zhen, despite having the top researcher Han Yaokun mentoring and guiding him, he hadn’t achieved a single independent experimental result.

Zhao Zhen was jealous—jealous down to his bones, heart-wrenchingly jealous! Why couldn’t that have been him?