Chapter 112: Xu Zhi Levels Up Again
She was a little curious—what kind of reaction would the cat have when it woke up and realized it had been lying on her lap?
Would it freak out? Or start angrily meowing?
But what Xu Zhi didn’t expect was that the little creature seemed a bit dazed when it first woke up. It actually rubbed its fluffy head against her leg, then rolled over, clearly enjoying itself. Only when it groggily opened its emerald-green eyes and recognized where it was—and saw the expression on Xu Zhi’s face, which practically screamed “I didn’t know you were that kind of cat”—did it instantly snap back to awareness.
The black cat let out a rare, sharp cry, then arched its back and practically bolted from her lap, scrambling away as if fleeing from a predator. Xu Zhi raised her eyebrows, managing not to laugh.
Watching the cat dart away and hide on the car roof, refusing to be seen, Xu Zhi regretfully savored the lingering sensation of the feline’s warmth on her legs. Then she picked up her game console to check what changes had come with the cat reaching level 10.
[Familiar: Nightmare, Lv10]
Mental Strength: 600
Physical Strength: 0 (As your familiar is a special entity, any purely physical attacks have no effect on it.)
Attribute: Moth
Traits: Dreamweaving Lv5, Fear Lv5, Chaos Lv3, Agility Lv4, Insight Lv3
Special Ability: Nightmare Creation]
[Congratulations! Your familiar’s special ability has upgraded. It can now actively enter a creature’s dreams, observe them, and alter their contents.]
“Wow.”
Though the upgrade to its special ability was impressive, what shocked Xu Zhi more was the cat’s whopping 600 mental power at level 10.
She had been worrying whether her mutated creature would even hit 100 mental power at level 30—and yet the cat had already far surpassed that…
It was clear now: not all familiars were created equal.
Unfortunately, her little mutant’s evolution points seemed like a bottomless pit. She had to carefully limit how many [Cup] attribute cores it consumed at a time. Progress would be slow and gradual.
Still, at least the mutant had a visible progress bar. Xu Zhi, by contrast, could only rely on intuition to guess how close she was to leveling up.
Even after circling the entire second ring and returning to the residential zone, that “on the verge of breakthrough” sensation still lingered. She remained stuck, just short of the threshold.
She hadn’t spent long in the second ring—it was smaller than the third—but it housed significantly more surviving transcendent beings. That was probably because the second ring had a higher population density to begin with, unlike the third ring, which mostly consisted of farmland and factories with wide open spaces.
It had taken her less than two months to complete her sweep. By the time she returned, the residential district had grown to nearly 4,000 residents, providing Xu Zhi with a steady supply of cores every month. Most transcendentals preferred low-level cores, and gladly traded the high-level ones they hunted to Shen Jinwen for larger quantities of lower-tier cores.
After all, low-level cores were used for more than just housing and personal upgrades—they were needed for plantation access, official trade fees, and even acted as the currency of the settlement. Everyone had to stock up.
The residential district had expanded beyond its original boundaries. Zhong Lingfan had redefined the area, incorporating the area around the Bell and Drum Towers, and introduced a new hierarchy system: central zone, inner circle, and outer circle. The class divisions were now out in the open.
But in today’s Yuncheng, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
While Xu Zhi personally scouted for survivors, Zhong Lingfan also sent out search teams regularly. Xu Zhi’s rescue operations were more casual—fate-driven, you could say—so she wasn’t combing through every corner. But Zhong Lingfan wasn’t about to leave any living soul out in the wild.
Thanks to Xu Zhi’s actions, the number of transcendentals outside the residential area had plummeted. If anyone encountered danger, it was nearly impossible to find help. Hence, Zhong Lingfan kept sending search teams out to bring back stragglers.
She didn’t think Xu Zhi was doing a bad job—just that it would’ve been even better if she were more thorough. Unfortunately, she had no authority to tell Xu Zhi what to do.
Yuncheng had now been sealed off for nearly six months. The black mist showed no sign of dissipating, and no one could find a way out. Still, people hadn’t given up hope. This wasn’t the apocalypse—just Yuncheng’s apocalypse. Even if they couldn’t escape, surely the outside world would eventually step in?
Besides, everyone had become transcendentals now—who’d be willing to die miserably, trapped in a single city?
They had tasted power under the new order. If the city’s blockade was ever lifted, they could probably gain even more. Greed knows no bounds. Outsiders lusted after Yuncheng’s resources and tried everything to get in; insiders longed for freedom and benefits, hoping to get out.
Xu Zhi understood their desires, but she didn’t act on them. The other residents might not see it, but she was well aware: Yuncheng’s transcendentals had grown vastly different from the Federal ones in both mentality and capability.
Even if the city opened up one day, the two groups likely couldn’t coexist. The Federation would surely try to isolate and divide the Yuncheng group to prevent them from forming a unified, uncontrollable power bloc. If any of them—accustomed to Yuncheng’s iron-fisted rule and survival-of-the-strongest culture—couldn’t adapt to the Federation’s rules, chaos would inevitably follow.
The Federation wouldn’t tolerate such a rogue power.
But that was fine.
She would protect Yuncheng’s transcendentals.
As long as they listened and behaved themselves when the time came.
Xu Zhi harbored a quiet ambition: If Yuncheng ever reopened to the outside world, she had no intention of handing it back to the Federation.
This was her territory now. Everything here was hers. She could take whatever she wanted. If the Federation reclaimed control, she’d lose all that freedom—and she couldn’t allow that.
So, she simply decided: No. Yuncheng would remain hers.
And at that very moment, as she made that declaration in her heart, something clicked in her mind. The blurry path ahead grew clearer. That nagging, edge-of-breakthrough sensation finally vanished. The unmistakable feeling of imminent leveling up surged through her.
Thankfully, she was already home. She hurriedly instructed her familiars and Yu Shenwei to keep an eye on her, then collapsed into bed and plunged into her ascension dreamscape.
This time, Xu Zhi didn’t lose consciousness entirely. She retained a brief moment of clarity. Though her memories remained absent, she had a strange awareness that she was walking a critically important path—and that this wasn’t her first time here. Her goal: to complete the journey.
But unlike last time, a powerful sense of danger immediately wrapped around her the moment she entered the white forest.
This time, the threat didn’t build gradually—it was sharp, murderous, and came crashing straight at her from behind.
She had to escape at once—and ensure she stayed on the correct path.
