Chapter 103: [Accept the Rainy Season Time-Limited Quest?]
In the dead of night, the Awakeners and the two squads of city guards reentered Seed City through the North Gate.
The two strike teams didn’t return to the residential district. Instead, they followed the guards straight to the central clock tower.
Past three in the morning, the light in the Commander’s office was still burning.
He had stayed awake solely to await their return.
Within the tower’s depths, a heavy set of reinforced doors swung open.
A uniformed guard stepped through holding a takeout container of braised vegetables, leading a physician right behind him.
Over in the Black Fields Quarantine Sector.
Several overseers bustled in and out of the Chief Inspector’s office, clutching fresh logs of real-time field data.
Fresh from an exhaustive briefing, the Chief Inspector sat hunched over his desk, rapidly scribbling notes and running calculations across the ledgers.
At the South Wall.
Her lacerations cleaned and dressed, the captain of the special strike team suited up in a pristine hazard uniform. Gathering several trusted operatives, she laid out tactical orders with grim solemnity.
And in the residential quarters.
Through the thin walls of rickety timber shacks, deep snores rose and fell in a steady chorus.
This was likely the soundest night of sleep the populace of Seed City had enjoyed in years.
…
Dawn broke.
Zhu Le stirred awake inside her wooden shack.
She was merely one among the countless ordinary, faceless denizens scraping by in Seed City.
Rolling out of bed, her mind still clouded with sleep, she instinctively pulled on her field scavenge gear out of sheer muscle memory.
Tough trousers and a long-sleeved tunic, both hems bound tightly with cord. Heavy boots, thick gloves, and a hooded cloak stitched together from threadbare rags, paired with a cloth face wrap.
Her canteen and crystal-collecting pouch sat ready on the table.
It was hardly a real table—just two cracked plastic shipping crates shoved together to form a makeshift surface.
Zhu Le reached out to sling both items over her frame, only for her hands to freeze mid-motion.
Her eyes caught the large cloth sack resting right beside the canteen.
Tied from a torn old bedsheet, it was the very sack she had used yesterday to haul toxic sweet potatoes.
…Having drifted through a daze for so long, she had almost convinced herself that yesterday’s events were just a fever dream.
Waking up, she had defaulted straight to her old behavioral routine, running on cold, mechanical inertia.
After spending years in this post-cataclysmic wasteland, whatever dreams or ambitions she once harbored had long turned to ash, leaving behind only the endless cycle of scavenging and sleeping.
She picked up the sack, tracing the dried crumbs of mud clinging to the fabric.
Lifting the pouch at her waist, it felt heavy in her palm.
She untied the cord. Inside rested twenty-six City Coins—including the twenty-two coins she had earned yesterday trading in wild sweet potatoes.
Her stomach didn’t ache with hunger, either, because she had bought a piping-hot roasted sweet potato before heading home.
Right. Yesterday, she had followed the guards out to the “Chinese Restaurant.”
Far too much had happened recently.
First came the ration price hike three months ago, followed by the sudden spike in Black Fields conscription lotteries just days earlier.
Yesterday morning, when the guards announced the Chinese Restaurant in the plaza, she hadn’t reacted at all.
Her mind had felt rusted shut, with a thick wall standing between her and the outside world’s news and emotions.
When she followed the crowd to that diner, gasps of disbelief had echoed all around her.
Yet many were just like Zhu Le: utterly dazed, watching the spectacle through a persistent fog.
They couldn’t process it. Their senses had been sealed shut for far too long.
Which was why she had woken up today and, out of years of ingrained habit, suited up to scavenge beyond the walls once more.
Only upon seeing that cloth sack did the memories of yesterday come rushing back.
Ah.
It hadn’t been a dream.
Zhu Le held up the sack, turning it over in her hands.
Even so, she needed to see it for herself once more.
Pushing through her front door, she walked out into the central plaza.
A considerable crowd had already gathered.
Just like Zhu Le, the first thing anyone did upon arriving was verify whether yesterday’s wooden directional sign was still standing.
It was.
It was real.
A long breath escaped her lips.
A warm, unfamiliar swell of relief welled up in her chest.
The feeling was foreign, but it was certainly not an unwelcome one.
Hm?
Today’s plaza differed from yesterday’s in another way.
A cluster of people had gathered before the bulletin board off to the side.
What were they looking at?
Zhu Le drifted closer on instinct.
Pinned to the wooden board were two crisp sheets of paper.
Flanked by the Notice of Black Fields Conscription Lottery and the faded Red Flag Society Monthly Relief Notice, these two fresh bulletins immediately caught the eye.
Their headers were nearly identical:
Notice on Recruitment of Awakener Operatives — Dark Star
Notice on Recruitment of Awakener Operatives — Red Flag Society
Even the body text was remarkably similar:
To any citizen within Seed City who has awakened supernatural abilities, or who aspires to become an Awakener: please report to Dark Star at Row 2, Unit 17 / Red Flag Society at Row 10, Unit 1 in the Residential District for further consultation.
The notices were terse.
Yet their contents sent shockwaves rippling through the crowd.
“What does this mean… Awakeners?”
“They’re training Awakeners?!”
“Aren’t all Awakeners supposed to be reported straight to the high command? How can the city guards let them pin something like this to the public board?”
“They shouldn’t be allowed to…”
“If it’s forbidden, why haven’t they torn it down? The guards are standing right over by the exchange box!”
“Can you even train someone to awaken?”
“…This notice is from the Red Flag Society. I’m actually tempted to go ask.”
“Recruiting Awakeners… does that mean Dark Star and Red Flag already have their own awakened members?”
“Shh! Are you insane? Keep your voice down!”
The bystanders muttering before the board were entirely baffled.
Yet a singular deduction was spreading among them like wildfire.
—Both factions appeared to possess active Awakeners now.
And the local administration… showed no intention of handing them over to the Three Great Cities.
The Chinese Restaurant.
The moment Ling Jing opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong.
A heavy, dragging ache throbbed in her lower abdomen, accompanied by a dull soreness across her lower back.
Sitting up, she made a beeline for the bathroom.
Sure enough, her period had started.
She glanced at the timestamp displayed on her system HUD.
[Cataclysm Year 10 — July 18 — Morning 07:43]
The eighteenth.
Ling Jing wasn’t sure if the calendar here matched her old world.
Even back then, her cycles had always been erratic.
And agonizingly painful.
During her teens, she had used cold well water year-round, which turned bone-chillingly frigid in the depths of winter.
She had suffered from dysmenorrhea ever since her very first cycle.
Later, when she threw herself into launching her business, her sleep schedule fell apart completely. She rarely rested well, skipped meals constantly, and developed anemia to boot.
There were times her period would vanish for two or three months on end.
Whenever it returned, the cramps were sheer agony.
Once her finances stabilized, she finally visited a specialist. After reviewing her history, the doctor confirmed she had primary dysmenorrhea compounded by years of physical exhaustion, warning that it could only be managed gradually.
She was prescribed a regimen of traditional herbal concoctions and regular acupuncture, which took the edge off somewhat.
Even so, the pain lingered, forcing Ling Jing to rely on painkillers every single cycle.
Without hesitating, she brought up the system interface and purchased sanitary napkins and analgesics.
60 points total.
Ling Jing had tried toughing it out in the past; going without medication left her shivering in cold sweats, completely derailing her workday.
There was no point in suffering for nothing.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she called out, “Caicai.”
Activated by voice command, the service robot rolled over cheerfully: “Good morning, Boss! (^▽^)”
“Pour me a cup of hot water.”
“Understood! ∠(^▽^)”
“Actually… have Fufu brew me a cup of hot ginger brown sugar tea instead.”
“Right away! ∠(^▽^)”
A short while later, Ling Jing was nestled behind the cashier counter.
Cradling the steaming mug of ginger tea Fufu had prepared, she looked down at the breakfast Caicai had wheeled over.
A roasted sweet potato, a bowl of piping-hot white rice porridge, and a small side of pickled radishes.
It was nearly eight o’clock.
Wonderful.
With both Fufu and Caicai running the floor, she could take half a day off with a clear conscience.
Ling Jing took a gentle bite of the sweet potato and leaned back into her chair.
Right at that moment, an alert box popped up across her vision.
[Notice: 24 hours remaining until the onset of the Rainy Season.]
[Would you like to accept the Rainy Season Time-Limited Quest?]
[(Time-limited quests feature elevated difficulty and exceptionally rich rewards.)]
