"Good morning, dear residents of Happiness City!"
"This is Happiness City Morning Radio, right here with you at six o'clock every day. I'm today's announcer, Little Sun, and I hope to pack warmth and joy into the airwaves to send your way!"
"First, let's take a look at the weather. Look outside your windows—a mischievous rainstorm is gently blanketing Shi Province. Nine cities, including Yun City, Yang City, and our very own Chuan City where Happiness City is located, are all embraced by this 'sweet rain.' But the playful rain might have had a little too much fun! Flash floods are playing hide-and-seek like infected, liable to pop up at any moment. Darlings heading outdoors, remember to keep your eyes peeled so you don't get swept into another province~"
"Speaking of our neighbor, Yun City, good news! The infection wave there has finally drawn to a close. Unfortunately, Yueye Shelter City wasn't as lucky. Rumor has it they suffered a terrible blow during the infection wave and are now shivering down in their underground facilities. Little Sun is cheering them on right here, wishing for the gloom to lift soon!"
"Oh, right, another important reminder! Some hydrophilic infected have been stirred up by the downpour and might embark on a spontaneous 'little trip.' Brave warriors of Happiness City who are heading out soon, make sure to stay on high alert so these savage brutes don't catch you off guard!"
"Next up, news from neighboring provinces. A bizarre thick fog recently appeared in Sha Province. Anyone who steps inside feels as if they've dropped into cotton candy—could they have been secretly hidden away by the clouds?"
"A new tentacle infection source has emerged in Hai Province. Word has it that it measures a full thirty meters long, a distant relative of the Deathwhisper Tentacle. Eww, how utterly disgusting!"
"..."
From the battered radio came a female voice brimming with vitality, clashing sharply with the wasteland's dominant keynote of death.
Enveloped in the sound of rain, Uncle Dong reclined in a rattan chair with one leg crossed over the other, waving a cattail fan while interjecting curses, exclamations, and curious murmurs in response to the broadcast.
The morning broadcast, airing every three days, was one of the few forms of entertainment available to the lower-class folk of the Buffer Zone.
It was nothing like the punctual evening broadcast each night, which was always delivered in an iron-gray, rigid drone, its words dripping with death threats, as if anyone failing to heed its warnings would be torn to shreds by infected on the spot.
Little Sun's broadcasts were always soothing, making it feel as though the infected had turned into friendly neighbors.
Yet happy moments were ever fleeting. In the blink of an eye, the half-hour news slot passed, bringing an end to the hearsay and tidbits gathered from across the wasteland.
The sign-off floated steadily from the radio's speaker:
"All right, the producer is already hurrying me, so... that's all for today's broadcast~"
"Before we sign off, though, I'd still like to chat a bit more with our family living in Happiness City. Please don't be afraid of change! We have dutiful guards sweeping the city's perimeter around the clock to minimize the threat of infected, and a real-time information-sharing network established alongside more than twenty neighboring shelter cities, allowing us to monitor any developments the moment they occur..."
"And of course, we have the most, most, most professional inspectors, who keep every infected barred outside the checkpoints, protecting every resident's safety right at the source!"
"Get out of bed now! Take the vitality Little Sun has given you, and have a day full of energy~"
"That's it?"
The sweet, coquettish female voice cut out, replaced by erratic static.
Uncle Dong cursed, feeling unsatisfied, and pulled his right hand back out of his trouser pocket.
The damned torrential rain had even cut Little Sun's broadcast short by two minutes, robbing him of the final sweet song segment.
He had only just gotten ready to start, and it was already over?
Glancing up at the digital clock on the wall, the display had just ticked past 6:31. Uncle Dong smacked his lips; his injured right arm had begun to ache again in this damp weather.
"Still need to earn more money to get that surgery sooner..."
On a hellish rainy day like this, business would probably be dead from dawn till dusk.
Yet at the thought of the steep surgical fees, Uncle Dong had no choice but to get up and slowly haul up the roll-up shutter.
The rusted chain groaned, and the spindle let out the creak of aged gears grinding together. When the gap widened to half the height of a man, a pair of bloodshot, crimson eyes slowly emerged.
"Holy fuck!"
Uncle Dong shuddered in fright. Having been retired for so many years, his courage had plummeted, and he actually stumbled back two steps.
*Thud.*
A pair of hands braced against the iron shutter, lifting it upward from the outside. Beneath those crimson eyes appeared the sharp, chiseled jawline of a young man.
"Little Cheng?"
Seeing clearly that it was Cheng Ye, Uncle Dong let out a visible sigh of relief, though his heart continued to hammer.
"What are you doing here so early in the—"
The words caught in his throat. Even though they had parted only a single day ago, the state Cheng Ye presented threw Uncle Dong's memory into confusion.
His skin had grown even paler, with dark blue-green veins visible beneath the surface like vines bloated by the downpour.
His frame, which had previously been almost flat, now showed bulging muscle, especially around the pectorals, which faintly outlined the rudimentary V-taper of an inverted triangle.
Moreover, with his seasoned veteran's eye, Uncle Dong noticed that both of Cheng Ye's hands seemed to have grown a size larger.
This was a telltale sign found only in lifelong martial artists. It meant the qi-meridians in his hands had been unblocked, allowing him to grip weapons more securely in close-quarters combat or unleash greater force with his bare hands!
"Uncle Dong, how much nutrient paste do you have left? Bring it out. I... I want it all!"
Cheng Ye's voice scraped like sandpaper against rust, frighteningly hoarse.
Uncle Dong frowned, but ultimately refrained from asking, quickly returning with a carton of nutrient paste in his arms.
"There are thirty-five pouches left. Drink as much as you can—Uncle Dong's treating today!"
There was no answer.
Cheng Ye had already reached out, crudely seized two pouches, shoved them into his mouth, and squeezed them burst.
A milky-white fluid trickled down the corners of his mouth. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, producing an unbroken series of gulps.
In all fairness, the nutrient paste produced by Happiness City didn't taste terrible.
It tasted a bit like soy milk diluted tenfold, carrying a faint sweetness and a grassy hint.
This was the sole thing Cheng Ye felt fortunate about after transmigrating to the wasteland.
The researchers in this wasteland world weren't as foolish as those portrayed in so many post-apocalyptic novels, who made the primary energy source of the underclass into foul-tasting culinary horrors until food disparity eventually incited the masses to revolt and overthrow the ruling class.
Drinking nutrient paste long-term might leave one's palate utterly bland and rob life of some of its zest, but it was far healthier than modern meals fried in gutter oil.
"Six pouches... eight... ten!"
Uncle Dong narrowed his eyes. As Cheng Ye gorged himself, the pallor on his face gradually receded, replaced by a subtle flush of color.
His exposed skin no longer looked wrinkled and pale like it had been soaked in water; instead, it swiftly regained the healthy luster and tone of a normal human being, looking even more vibrant than before.
Uncle Dong's gaze stayed glued to those hands, his eyes flickering with envy and a trace of jealousy.
Qi-Meridian Hands—one of the gifts martial artists coveted most.
The miraculous feats of traditional martial arts in the old era had never flourished due to the shift in human genetic trajectories. Only after many years in the wasteland, with genes reverting to primal savagery, did martial arts finally find a stage once again.
Yet with his own aptitude, Uncle Dong had practiced for a lifetime without even crossing the threshold, while Cheng Ye, at such a young age, had already grasped the beginnings of the craft.
Comparisons truly were maddening!
Soon, the eighteenth pouch of nutrient paste was downed.
Cheng Ye paused, finally sensing the gnawing hunger in his gut subside into something bearable.
"Uncle Dong..."
Before walking through the door, Cheng Ye had already prepared an explanation, but to his surprise, Uncle Dong waved a hand first. "No need to explain. Ah Long actually left you a vial of gene purification serum before he departed. You really know how to hold out, waiting until today to use it and maximize its effect."
*Gene purification serum?*
*What on earth is that?*
*The Captain America special?*
The previous owner of this body had never had access to high-tier goods like that in the Inner City. Day in and day out, he had spent his time romancing or dabbling in poetry and prose, to the point where Cheng Ye, sifting through his memories, had wondered if the guy intended to become a trendy wasteland idol.
Now that Uncle Dong had provided an explanation on his own, Cheng Ye kept his composure and shelved his original excuse about taking special medication.
Even so, he stayed wary, wary that Uncle Dong might be inventing something out of thin air to test him.
So instead of confirming it, he shook his head with a laugh. "You're joking, Uncle Dong. I've never even heard of any enhancement serum. I was just too busy at work yesterday to eat, so I was starving out of my mind!"
"Good that you haven't. Just remember to eat your meals on time from now on."
Uncle Dong gave a dismissive smile and pushed the remaining nutrient paste over along with the box. "It happens to have only two days left before expiration anyway. Take it all."
"How much?"
"I said it's my treat. Are you going to deny Uncle Dong that face?"
"Thanks, Uncle Dong. If you ever run into trouble down the road, don't hesitate to come to me."
Cheng Ye patted his chest, readily taking on the promise, and walked out of the shop carrying the box.
Uncle Dong had weathered more than twenty years of combat on the battlefield, and in his old age, after being injured, had still managed to retire and open a shop.
Brains alone couldn't achieve that; he was unquestionably a ruthless character with serious backbone.
*Investing in me with a carton of nutrient paste to earn a favor... Works out nicely. I need Uncle Dong to keep his mouth shut anyway, so our interests align.*
Entering his room, he shut the door.
Of the remaining seventeen pouches of nutrient paste, Cheng Ye tore open another ten and poured them down his gullet. Only then did he finally feel somewhat full, banishing the hunger that had consumed his mind.
Stepping into the communal bathroom, he stripped off his shirt. The reflection in the mirror was no longer frail. Overnight, a lean layer of muscle had formed across his frame. Though the definition wasn't exaggerated, it exuded a powerful aesthetic of raw strength.
Staring at his reflection, Cheng Ye was gripped by unprecedented shock.
*This is... terrifying. The boon brought by this skill far exceeds my imagination!*
It was hard to explain what had happened using science.
Level 1 Basic Force Exertion had brought him not only force-exertion techniques and muscle memory, but also overnight muscular transformation, sparing him months of bitter training.
*Could it be that muscle memory for force exertion requires sufficient musculature to support it?*
*Then if I find skills that enhance constitution in the future, could I gain such immense boosts as well?*
Back in his room, Cheng Ye sank into a pleasant dilemma.
The sudden surge in strength vastly improved his odds of surviving the upcoming field mission.
Yet such conspicuous overnight changes made lying low and biding his time among the crowd all the more difficult.
*Beep, beep, beep.*
A call notification sounded from the defense comm on the table.
*Who would call me this early?*
Cheng Ye looked at the screen with curiosity, then froze.
It wasn't Liu Bi, but a name he had never expected.
...
Chapter 9