The city stretched out before Zhuo like the decaying skeleton of a long-dead beast. Towering skyscrapers—once symbols of power and ambition—now stood as hollowed-out husks, their shattered glass facades reflecting nothing but emptiness. Vines twisted up their sides, strangling steel and concrete alike as nature reclaimed what humanity had abandoned.
The streets were a warzone of time itself—cracked asphalt littered with rusted, overturned vehicles, their metal frames corroded and stripped bare. What were once bustling intersections filled with people, honking cars, and neon lights now resembled a graveyard of civilization.
A haunting silence filled the air, thick and oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of unstable metal or the distant whistle of the wind as it slithered through broken windows. The remnants of human life still lingered—a child's toy, dirtied and forgotten, lay in the middle of the road; an old newspaper fluttered weakly against a pile of rubble, its headlines irrelevant in a world that had moved on.
Above, faded billboards loomed like ghosts of a bygone era, their peeling advertisements eerily out of place. One read "Welcome to Evernight City—The Heart of Innovation!" in bold, hopeful letters, but someone had graffitied over it in large red paint:
"ABANDON HOPE."
"Well," Zhuo muttered as he read it, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie, "that's reassuring."
The air was thick with the scent of damp rot and rusted metal, an unpleasant mixture of decay and neglect. Pools of stagnant water, blackened by time, littered the streets, disturbed only by the occasional ripple—either from the wind or something lurking beneath the surface. Zhuo chose not to investigate.
In the distance, something moved—something large.
Zhuo's gaze flicked toward the source of the sound, and for a split second, he swore he saw eyes gleaming within the shadows of a collapsed mall. They blinked—then vanished.
"Yup," he muttered. "Definitely haunted."
Still, he continued walking through the ruins, the crunch of debris beneath his boots the only noise accompanying him. His attire was simple—a white hoodie with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black jeans, and sneakers. A casual look he had pieced together from the memories he had absorbed before descending.
After all, walking around in some godly attire screaming "I AM AN IMMORTAL BEING WHO TRANSCENDS EXISTENCE" was a little too much. Blending in was key.
Even if his very presence warped the space around him.
With a sigh, he surveyed the ruins once more.
"So, this is what they call a 'mana-concentrated area,' huh?" His voice carried a lazy amusement. "I expected something more… alive."
From what he had gathered through the fragmented memories of the civilians, this place—Evernight City—had once been a flourishing metropolis. That was, of course, before it got turned into a godforsaken wasteland.
Apparently, the city had been plagued by an unknown phenomenon. Spatial cracks, gates, rifts—call them what you want, they had started appearing at an alarming rate. Monsters poured out, and soon, the place became unlivable.
At first, the awakeners fought to reclaim it. Heroes, soldiers, elites—they had all come. They had all failed.
Faced with endless waves of beasts, the strongest warriors of humanity had no choice but to retreat. The city was abandoned.
It had been years since anyone set foot here willingly.
And yet—
Zhuo kicked a loose rock into a murky puddle, watching the ripple spread across the surface.
"Had the so-called 'awakeners' really grown so weak that they couldn't handle a few oversized pests?"
He sighed, shaking his head.
"And here I thought humanity was supposed to evolve. What, did they lose their backbone while I was asleep?"
Of course, he knew it wasn't that simple. From what he had gleaned, the gates didn't just spawn the usual run-of-the-mill monsters. No, the creatures that came through them were different.
More powerful.
More intelligent.
More… unnatural.
Still, watching humanity flee rather than fight left a sour taste in his mouth.
Zhuo had seen war. He had fought battles that could shatter entire realities. And yet, the greatest warriors of this age couldn't even hold one damn city?
"Pathetic," he muttered, kicking another rock.
Then, he paused.
"…Wait."
His entire body froze. His head tilted slightly as his eyes flickered with realization.
"…Wait, now I finally get it."
A slow grin tugged at his lips, not of amusement, but of dawning understanding.
The barrier.
That giant glowing dome wrapped around Earth like a divine-sized "Do Not Disturb" sign.
It wasn't just a prison.
It was a shield.
And suddenly, it all made sense.
These people—their so-called warriors,their elites—they never stood a chance.
Zhuo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Goddamn it. They were never meant to win."
Of course, the humans had fought. Of course, they had tried to defend their cities. But they were fighting the wrong war.
The creatures that came through the gates? They were just the surface-level threats. The real monsters—the things that lurked beyond, the ones Zhuo knew all too well—hadn't even stepped in yet.
If humanity had tried to fight them?
If they had bared their puny strength against true Outer Beings?
Earth would have been obliterated.
Hell, wiped off the universal map.
The only reason that hadn't happened was the barrier.
Zhuo let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Oh, I see now. I see."
He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, staring up at the sky where the invisible dome wrapped around the planet.
"That bastard."
He chuckled, shaking his head. Now it made sense.
That bastard wasn't throwing and putting arround barriers just for some fun, It wasn't some act of goodwill.
No.
It was a calculated move.
It protected humanity, yes. But more importantly—it made Zhuo owe him.
"Oh-ho, I get it now. That slippery, scheming piece of shit." Zhuo sighed again, louder this time, for dramatic effect. "He did it just to put me in his debt, huh? What a good guy."
His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"What a selfless, benevolent, entirely-not-an-asshole move."
He scoffed.
"He's probably sitting somewhere right now, smiling to himself, thinking: 'Oh, when Zhuo gets back, he'll have no choice but to thank me!'"
Zhuo made a disgusted face.
"Yeah, fat chance, buddy."
Sure, technically he should thank him. After all, the guy had protected Earth from an imminent, irreversible destruction.
But Zhuo knew better.
This wasn't a favor. This was a setup.
This was a power move.
And Zhuo hated owing people.
Hated. It.
He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today.
"Guess I have no choice now," he muttered. "I really should 'thank' him when I get the chance."
He rolled his shoulders, already dreading that future conversation.
Still—
Even if it wasn't done out of goodwill, even if it was purely a move to trap him into a debt—
It was undeniable.
That bastard had saved his home.
And for that…
Zhuo's expression shifted into something unreadable.
He exhaled one last time, then turned his gaze back toward the city ruins.
"I'll deal with that later," he decided. "For now…"
Time to see what humanity had been up to while he was gone.