Another month passed.
During that month, the spatial rifts underwent a massive transformation.
With a method to annihilate folded spaces, countless folded spaces collapsed. And when all the folded spaces within a spatial passage collapsed, the passage itself would be destroyed along with them.
And so, after one month, one of the black spatial rifts that spanned the sky above Blue Star was finally closed.
When the very first spatial rift closed before the eyes of all humanity, countless people celebrated and wept. In this planetary defense war, humans had, for the first time, gained the possibility of complete victory.
But the interstellar Zerg were no pushovers. Soon, an even fiercer counterattack began.
Fortunately, by then, some humans had gained the ability to contract a second spirit beast. And with the growing number of mutated plants, most people chose a mutated plant as their second contracted partner.
Most mutated plants specialized in area-of-effect attacks—a type of combat that proved incredibly effective against the interstellar Zerg.
So time and again, humanity held back the Zerg’s counterattacks. Though casualties still occurred, people grew more confident in the future.
Amid this back-and-forth struggle, more and more people became capable of contracting a second spirit beast. By then, mutated plants had spread across the entire planet.
Fortunately, mutated plants did not actively attack humans—instead, they fed on mutated insects. As a result, Blue Star’s native mutated insect population was nearly wiped out in a short period.
Of course, humanity’s attention remained fixed on the spatial rifts.
—
“Still not hatched yet!”
That day, Qin Sang got up early and went into the space to check on the dragon egg. In fact, ever since the dragon egg had grown huge, she had been going into the space almost every day to take a look. After all, the glittering golden egg was incredibly eye-catching. And now, the energy field radiating from it was astonishing—every time she saw it, she felt a mix of awe and unease.
Grandpa Goose was lying beside the egg. Hearing Qin Sang’s words, he flapped his wings dismissively: “Not so fast. It’ll be ready once it’s absorbed all the energy.”
He said it casually, but Qin Sang could tell from his tone that he wasn’t worried. She figured everything would be fine.
So she changed the subject and started talking about what was happening outside.
Lately, Grandpa Goose had been entirely focused on incubating the egg, so Qin Sang filled him in on the outside world, hoping to glean some new information from him.
After listening to Qin Sang, Grandpa Goose suddenly said, “The heavy rain might be stopping soon.”
Qin Sang had been talking about all the new mutated plants appearing everywhere. She paused at his words, then asked, “Really?”
Grandpa Goose: “Of course.”
Qin Sang: “Will there be any more extreme weather after the rain stops?”
Grandpa Goose ignored her.
Qin Sang shrugged and moved on to talk about the spatial passages.
“Grandpa Goose, if all the spatial passages are closed, will Blue Star be safe from now on?”
As she spoke, Qin Sang was lying on the grass inside the space, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds above, listening to the sounds of various small animals from the distant spatial pasture. This, she thought, was what real life should feel like. Unfortunately, even if the heavy rain stopped outside, the world was now scarred and ravaged, and it would almost certainly never return to what it once was.
The outside world was already evolving into a world of spirit beasts.
The torrential rains had brought about the resurgence and evolution of plants. The large-scale evolution of animals wouldn’t be far behind.
After chatting with Grandpa Goose a little longer, Qin Sang left the space and prepared to tell her parents the news that the rain was about to stop.
But the moment she stepped out of the space, her phone rang.
She checked it—a message from Xu Lin. It contained the latest weather forecast.
Qin Sang immediately called him: “What’s the official plan?”
Xu Lin: “Once the rain stops and the floodwaters recede, they’ll arrange for people to return to their original homes.”
Due to the flooding caused by the torrential rain, many people had been relocated to higher ground. Although there had been a crisis with the brain worms in between, after it was resolved, the pace of relocation had accelerated. Many low-lying areas had been submerged. Even Qin Sang’s home had been flooded up to the third floor.
Thinking of the people living on the upper floors, Qin Sang felt it was good that they could go back. The main issue was that too many people had been crammed into the building during this period. Even though everyone tried to stay restrained, the stress of the torrential rains had caused frequent arguments among the upstairs neighbors. It didn’t directly involve Qin Sang’s family, but hearing all the shouting and bickering was still unpleasant.
Xu Lin continued on the other end of the line: “Once the personnel are settled, more resources will be devoted to the spatial rifts.”
Qin Sang had guessed as much. After all, until the spatial passages were dealt with, the threat from the Zerg would never truly be resolved.
The very next day after their discussion, the authorities officially announced that the rain would soon stop.
The news was met with yet another wave of celebration.
“So many good things have been happening lately!”
Fa Ge came over that day to inform the upstairs residents about the arrangements for their return home once the floodwaters receded. He stopped by the Qin household on the way to trade goods and walked in beaming.
Qin’s mother was equally delighted: “Indeed—so much has happened during this time, but our village hasn’t suffered a single casualty.”
For someone of her generation, safety was worth more than gold.
Qin’s father had already begun pulling out the roast goose he’d prepared from the spatial storage.
Yes, Fa Ge had come specifically to trade for roast goose. He had just returned from the spatial rifts, and while he didn’t have much of anything else in his space, he had more energy cores than he knew what to do with.
Knowing that Qin Sang’s energy core supply was running low, he came straight to her as soon as he got back.
“Uncle, I’ve been craving this. Out there in the spatial rifts, killing those damn bugs, the stench was so foul I couldn’t even eat. Right now, all I want is some roast goose to get my appetite back.”
Listening to Fa Ge’s complaints, Qin Sang couldn’t help but laugh.
“Any casualties on your team this time?”
At that, Fa Ge launched into a spirited account of his team’s exploits in the spatial rifts.
“You have no idea. Our batch was using the upgraded energy cannons. One blast, and we’d wipe out a whole cluster of Zerg.”
Qin Sang’s curiosity was piqued at the mention of the upgraded energy cannons: “So they’re really using spatial cores as energy sources now?”
Fa Ge nodded: “You bet! None of us expected the authorities to be so generous. Using spatial cores directly as fuel—no wonder those cannons pack such a punch. The only downside is they don’t last long. After ten shots, the spatial core’s energy drops by half.”
Qin Sang wasn’t surprised to hear that. After all, a weapon with that much firepower was bound to consume a lot of energy.
“Are you going on the next deployment?”
Qin Sang had returned from the spatial rifts just a week ago and had been resting at home. She thought for a moment and said, “I’ll head back out after the rain stops.”
And so she waited—another three days.
Three days later, the rain finally ceased, and the skies cleared. The long-lost sunlight streamed down through the clouds.
Everyone stepped out of their homes, feeling the sun on their skin and reveling in the sensation that they were finally no longer damp.
Honestly, Qin Sang felt that if the rain had gone on any longer, people would have started growing mold.
All the wooden furniture in her house had sprouted mold and even mushrooms. The mutated mushroom from before had long been contracted by her father. Not long after, her mother had also contracted a mutated mushroom of her own.
Why? Because in the torrential rain, mutated mushrooms were the easiest mutated plants to come by.
Funny enough, after contracting the mutated mushroom, their family was able to enjoy fresh mushrooms every single day.
Yes—the mutated mushroom could produce edible mushrooms, and ones that even contained trace amounts of energy.
That discovery sent many people into a frenzy.
Of course, for Qin Sang’s family, it was more of a novelty.
After this discovery, many people began exploring the other uses of their contracted mutated plants. Qin Sang, meanwhile, pulled Little Grass Seed aside and asked it if it had any other abilities it hadn’t told her about.
In the end, she found out that it could also produce dandelions, which could be used as medicinal herbs.
However, dandelions didn’t expel dampness from the body—which left Qin Sang a little disappointed.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs. Qin Sang knew the temporary residents on the upper floors were moving out.
She didn’t go out of her way to say goodbye. They weren’t close. Even the young man from the four-generation family—the one she’d saved from being parasitized by a brain worm—was still basically a stranger.
Still, he came down with his family to bid farewell. Qin Sang smiled and saw them off.
It was heartwarming—after a year into the apocalypse, this family was still whole. The eldest, a very old grandparent, and the youngest, an infant, had all survived.
Families like theirs were the most enviable in this post-apocalyptic world.
After seeing off the temporary tenants upstairs, Qin Sang packed her things and prepared to head to headquarters. She had already signed up for the next rotation of the spatial rift squad.
But on the very night before she was set to depart, something unexpected happened to the spatial rifts.
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