In the year 4993 of the new calendar, humanity still does not fully understand the world.
Eastern Region, Western Desert, Southern Xinjiang, Northern Plains, and Central China—these are the known gathering places for humans. Other areas remain unclear. The only certainty is the edge war zones, where battles never cease.
The knowledge Yang Shung has gained is limited, but there's nothing he can do. No matter where you come from, the information you have is filtered. Knowledge of the war zones is particularly restricted, deliberately hidden from the public.
Now living in the Eastern Region, Yang Shung's life is peaceful—barely.
In Qingsancheng's Huyuan District, a place ironically named with no lake nearby, Yang Shung resides in a high-end community. The scenery is beautiful, and the population sparse, but the location has its drawbacks. It's the first line of defense during alien beast invasions, aside from city guards.
Knock, knock, knock!
Yang Shung rapped on his front door. Though the house had a doorbell, he preferred knocking—a personal quirk.
Still, no one responded.
"Where's Yang Ping? I gave him the key this morning. Did he go out to play? He should be back by now…" Yang Shung muttered. Just as he started getting impatient, the door creaked open.
Yang Ping stood there, phone in hand, gaming with headphones on. At 1.8 meters tall, he had delicate features and an air of casual indifference.
"Bro, you're back. Mom and Dad aren't home yet," Yang Ping said lazily, his eyes still on the phone screen.
"And dinner?" Yang Shung raised an eyebrow.
Yang Ping shrugged. "Not cooked yet."
Yang Shung sighed. His younger brother was always like this—a gaming addict. Just as he opened his mouth to complain, his stomach growled loudly, betraying his hunger.
Yang Ping chuckled awkwardly and turned his head. "Alright, I get it. I'll leave dinner to you."
Yang Shung walked into the living room, tossing his backpack onto the sofa before heading to the kitchen. Inside, the ingredients were sparse, but he figured he could manage four dishes and a soup.
Cooking was second nature to Yang Shung. He quickly whipped up three colorful, fragrant dishes. Since childhood, his interest in cooking stemmed from necessity—his father's unique culinary experiments had traumatized him. Strawberries in scrambled eggs? Unforgivable.
Now, after years of practice, Yang Shung's cooking had improved drastically. His father and younger brother finally stopped adding strawberries to everything, much to his relief.
With practiced hands, Yang Shung began slicing exotic beast meat. This ingredient was a luxury, more expensive than regular meat since most of it was hunted in the wild. Though some exotic beasts were farmed, the supply remained scarce.
Alien beasts came from secret realms—unstable zones that appeared unpredictably. These realms were dangerous yet full of opportunities: rare materials, secret treasures, and exotic beast resources that could be used in alchemy or crafting. However, they required great effort to harvest.
Soon, the dishes were ready, their aromas filling the room.
"Wow, today's food looks amazing!" Yang Ping exclaimed, stuffing his mouth full as he praised his brother.
"Slow down! You'll choke!" Yang Shung scolded, shaking his head. "By the way, do you know when Mom and Dad will be back?"
"They said they might be late. Want to play games after dinner?" Yang Ping asked between bites.
"No. You need to start exercising. You're a superpower user, aren't you? It's a waste if your physical fitness falls behind."
"Haha…" Yang Ping laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact. Unlike his brother, who woke up every day at 6 a.m. to train, he lacked the discipline for such routines.
"I'm a ranged fighter. I don't need to train as much!" Yang Ping argued weakly.
"No excuses. After the college entrance exams, you'll run at least 5,000 meters daily," Yang Shung declared firmly.
"Five thousand meters?!" Yang Ping's eyes widened in horror. "How about two thousand?"
"We'll see," Yang Shung replied with a sly smile. He didn't actually expect his brother to run 5,000 meters, but as an S-level talent, Yang Ping had potential that shouldn't go to waste.
Yang Ping groaned, feeling trapped. "You're the worst, bro…" he muttered, glaring at Yang Shung, who only chuckled in response.