In a desolate wilderness, a group of about twenty people piled into several off-road vehicles, their engines roaring as they sped deeper into the barren landscape. The place they left behind was littered with the carcasses of animals. 

If a biologist were present, they might initially recognize these as ordinary Siberian wolves. However, on closer inspection, they'd quickly doubt their conclusion. Each of these wolves was the size of an American bison—gigantic, far beyond the wolves that Earth has known. Indeed, this wasn't Earth. 

Shortly after the convoy disappeared into the distance, a patch of leaves about a hundred meters from the road rustled. From underneath, a small figure emerged, hunched low like a cautious rodent. Moving quickly and silently, it darted toward the wolf carcasses. 

Stepping into the open, the figure revealed itself to be a scrawny boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old—perhaps even younger, given his frail build. In his hand, he clutched what could barely be called a weapon: a piece of metal wedged between two wooden slats, resembling a crude dagger. 

"This one's no good. Damn it, this one too…" 

The boy muttered to himself as he began methodically cracking open the heads of the wolf corpses, plunging his hand into the bloody mess without hesitation. Then he'd move swiftly to the next. 

One after another, he inspected over a dozen wolves, yet his efforts yielded nothing. His expression didn't waver—there was no frustration, no impatience. His tone, though peppered with curses, was as flat as someone reciting a textbook. 

When there were only five or six carcasses left, the boy suddenly leapt back with astonishing speed. A moment later, one of the wolves sprang to life, snapping its massive jaws at the spot where he'd just been standing. The wolf's fangs, sharp and lethal, would've easily torn into him if not for his quick reflexes. 

The dying giant wolf collapsed to the ground, its last flicker of life extinguished. But the boy didn't relax. He flung his makeshift blade with precision, piercing the wolf's heart. Only when it lay completely still did he cautiously approach, letting out a soft sigh—a rare hint of emotion. 

Retrieving his "weapon" from the wolf's chest, he resumed his gruesome task. The near-death encounter seemed as routine to him as drinking water. 

"Finally," he murmured after prying a fingernail-sized object from the wolf's skull. It resembled a glass bead—irregularly shaped, yet remarkably pure and clear, without a single blemish. 

The boy cradled the crystal-like stone as if it were a treasure, carefully tucking it into a small pouch on his chest. He tightened the pouch securely, ensuring it wouldn't fall out. 

Even though he'd found what he was looking for, he didn't stop. He continued working through the remaining carcasses, though his luck seemed to have run dry. None of the others contained anything of value. Still, the boy was satisfied. He gathered his things and ran back the way he'd come. 

An hour later, the boy returned to a sprawling city surrounded by towering walls. Inside the gates, he navigated through filthy streets lined with makeshift homes cobbled together from wood and scrap metal. He finally reached a yard enclosed by barbed wire. 

"Qin Zong, did you find what you needed today?" 

A girl who appeared to be the oldest among a group of children emerged from a tin-roofed shack. The kids ranged from six or seven to about fourteen or fifteen, a mix of boys and girls. 

"Yes," Qin Zong replied calmly. "We'll have a better life soon." 

He led the children into the shack. Passing through it, he arrived at a hidden backyard. In one corner, he dug into the earth and retrieved a small box. Inside were eight crystals, identical to the one he'd just collected. 

Counting his new find, he now had nine in total—enough. 

Later, a group of older teens, dirtied and weary, returned to the yard carrying boxes and sacks. The younger children rushed to help, eagerly carrying the items inside. When the containers were opened, their contents—a mix of dark, unappealing substances—were quickly divided among the children. Despite their appearance, these were "food." 

Qin Zong grabbed a portion, chewing on the foul-tasting food without flinching. A few bites later, he washed it down with cold water. 

"Qin Zong, I heard you've gathered enough magic cores?" 

The oldest youth, a boy in his late teens, approached Qin Zong with concern. 

"Yes, it's done. Soon, we'll have a better life," Qin Zong said, gesturing to the pouch containing the nine crystals. 

"Do you need help?" the older boy asked earnestly. 

"No. Just take care of the kids. Once I awaken my abilities, I'll help you all become Evolvers too," Qin Zong promised. 

After finishing his food, he left the shack with the pouch. Passing through the city gates, he headed into the wilderness. The guards barely glanced at him; small children like him leaving the city were a common sight, but few ever returned. 

Qin Zong ventured through the desolate wasteland, past ruins and abandoned vehicles, until he reached an old industrial site. Inside a factory, he found a clean, prepared space. 

He took out his dagger and carved a circular pattern into the ground, filling it with intricate geometric symbols. Then, from his canteen, he poured a red liquid into the grooves, the lines glowing blood-red as they filled. Carefully, he placed six crystals at the outer points of the circle and three in the center. 

"Zero, commence the scan and final checks," he said aloud. 

A mechanical voice echoed in his mind: "Configuration flawless. Success rate: 99.99%. Scanning subject... Strength: 0.5. Agility: 0.7. Constitution: 0.5. Mental Energy: 2. Status: Suboptimal, malnourished." 

Qin Zong nodded, accustomed to these dismal stats. Satisfied, he stepped into the circle, settling onto a small, designated spot. 

He sprinkled a fine powder onto one of the crystals, igniting a glow that spread along the grooves and lit up the entire array. The glow intensified, engulfing Qin Zong's figure in radiant light. 

For an hour, the light persisted before gradually fading. When it did, Qin Zong emerged, his expression finally softening into a rare smile. 

"I can feel the power," he murmured. 

A spark of flame appeared in his palm, its warmth illuminating his face. Around him, the red liquid had turned clear, and the nine crystals had crumbled to dust, their purpose fulfilled. 

With newfound strength coursing through his veins, Qin Zong walked out of the factory, ready to change his life. The seed of power was now his.