Urban Powers After the Apocalypse

However, once he retracted the mask, Xu Mo could no longer see that faint mist with the naked eye. The distant wasteland appeared as ordinary as ever.

What exactly was that purple mist visible only through the mask? Could there be another secret hidden in the wasteland he had traversed countless times before?

Since January 20th had been officially declared the start of the winter break, Class 3-1 showed no signs of the usual relaxation that came with an impending vacation. Instead, the schedule became even more intense. Nearly every teacher was working overtime, tirelessly printing practice questions in an attempt to make up for any lost study time during the break.

Under such circumstances, even a top student like Si Mobai found it unbearable. As for students like HeShang, who were at the bottom of the class, they simply turned in blank test papers as a form of protest. Yet, this did nothing to dampen the teachers' enthusiasm for creating more tests. After all, as long as a portion of the elite students could secure spots in prestigious universities, their year-end bonuses would remain unaffected.

Xu Mo, whose grades hovered slightly below average, was also lumped together with HeShang and the other low-scoring students. The teachers essentially adopted a laissez-faire attitude toward him—while this meant he wouldn't receive special attention, it also granted him a rare sense of peace and quiet. It was hard to say whether this was a good or bad thing.

Due to the intense study load, Xu Mo didn't want to risk failing his college entrance exams, so he temporarily put his research on the Doomsday Fragments aside. He attended school and returned home each day like any other senior student, leading an unremarkable life.

However, this period wasn't entirely unproductive. One day, while taking a pile of empty beverage bottles to the recycling station, he stumbled upon a young child playing marbles by the roadside. Among the marbles, he spotted a yellow Doomsday Fragment. With nothing more than a lollipop, he successfully tricked the child into trading it to him.

That was the only Doomsday Fragment he had obtained during this time.

Given the fragment's astonishing healing capabilities, Xu Mo didn't rush to activate it. Instead, he decided to keep it as a precautionary measure—after all, in a critical moment, this thing could be worth a life.

Aside from that, life remained unchanged.

That day after school, their homeroom teacher, Lao Pang, rarely took the podium. He knocked loudly on the lectern to quiet the class, then made an announcement in a serious tone:

"Recently, students from other grades have reported that certain individuals from outside the school have been lurking around the area. Several students have already been robbed of their belongings. I advise everyone to travel in groups when going to and from school. If your home is nearby, male students should show some chivalry and escort female classmates home. The New Year is approaching, so stay safe and enjoy a peaceful holiday with your family... That's all, dismissed!"

"Whoo!" The entire class erupted in cheers. To them, no words from Lao Pang carried as much weight as the single command: "Dismissed!"

"Hey, HeShang, want to go?" Xu Mo asked after packing his bag. Since the next day was a rest day, his parents weren't too strict about his curfew.

"I have to collect rent today. Two of my tenants don't know how to transfer money through the bank, so I have to go in person every quarter. What a pain... You go ahead." HeShang grumbled as he packed his bag.

"You lucky little landlord, getting paid for doing nothing. What's there to complain about?" Xu Mo chuckled, playfully punching HeShang's shoulder. He then added, "Once you collect the rent, remember to treat me to a meal! I want seafood!"

"No problem! Two lobsters—one to eat, the other to smash just to hear the sound!"

Since HeShang wasn't going, and Xu Mo had no other friends to invite, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the school building alone.

Not long after exiting the school gate, he spotted a group of young men in their twenties surrounding a small, frail underclassman, extorting money from him. Xu Mo hesitated, wondering if he should step in to help. Before he could decide, one of the gang members suddenly noticed him. The man's face twisted into an expression of shock. After whispering something to his companions, they all withdrew on their own accord.

By now, the deaths of Black Wolf and his gang had long faded from Xu Mo's memory. Although he found the group's sudden retreat a bit strange, since they didn't cause him trouble, he didn't overthink it.

Because the next day was a break, the internet cafés were predictably packed. Xu Mo waited patiently for half an hour before finally securing a free computer.

As usual, he opened the browser and searched for information on the Doomsday Fragments using multiple keywords. To his surprise, the search results only amounted to just over fifty million—hardly any increase from his last search.

Information control! The term instantly popped into Xu Mo's mind.

It seemed that the authorities in Huaxia had already discovered the secret of the Doomsday Fragments and had begun suppressing all accurate information regarding them. However, this suppression was subtle—they hadn't outright banned all related keywords, as that would have made their efforts too obvious.

But this wasn't surprising. From the government's perspective, Doomsday Fragments were far more dangerous than explosives. To maintain social stability, it was only natural that they wouldn't allow such information to spread freely online.

Narrowing his search to results from the past ten days, Xu Mo quickly found an emergency announcement from the National Academy of Sciences, prominently displayed on the homepage of major websites, occupying nearly a fifth of the main page.

The announcement claimed that, after extensive research, the mysterious crystalline objects that fell to Earth on the night of February 2, 2012, contained high levels of radiation harmful to the human body. Prolonged exposure could trigger various illnesses. However, due to their scientific value, the government was now offering a nationwide buyback program—each fragment would be purchased for a uniform price of 1,000 yuan.

Moreover, judging from the comments on these posts, it appeared that other countries had issued similar announcements. The content was nearly identical, except for minor variations in buyback prices based on national conditions. Clearly, Huaxia wasn't the only country that had uncovered the secrets of the Doomsday Fragments.

Fortunately, no government had yet to break ranks by significantly inflating the buyback price. This suggested that a covert international agreement had been reached—otherwise, such consistency in messaging would have been impossible.

For Xu Mo, collecting Doomsday Fragments wasn't about fulfilling any personal greed. It was purely driven by a young man's longing for power, coupled with a childlike excitement for obtaining a new "toy." So, no matter what actions the government took, he didn't really care. He only knew that this new policy meant his old method—trading lollipops for fragments—was now virtually impossible.

Though he was somewhat surprised by the National Academy of Sciences' announcement, it didn't pose any direct problems for him. After skimming through a few more pages and confirming there was no further useful information, he casually closed the browser and double-clicked the CS icon on the desktop, logging into the café's LAN with his username, Pan.

Objectively speaking, Xu Mo wasn't particularly skilled at CS. He joined matches purely for the fun of chaotic firefights, employing no real tactics—just recklessly charging forward with an AK-47, making him the textbook definition of a berserker. His aggressive playstyle was in stark contrast to his otherwise mild demeanor.

Though ferocious in combat, his kill count was often abysmal. His main contribution was being a human shield and drawing enemy fire. But Xu Mo thoroughly enjoyed this style of play—killing enemies wasn't his goal. He simply relished the thrill of unleashing relentless firepower.

His Pan ID was well-known in the local internet café community. After all, two and a half years of gaming without a single improvement was an achievement in itself—wherever he went, he was as conspicuous as a firefly in the night.

However, today was different. Thanks to the reflex boost from the red Doomsday Fragment, his reaction speed was now off the charts. Round after round, he was instantly landing headshots, plowing through opponents with an unstoppable aura—like a one-man slaughterhouse.