Chapter 26: Survival Handbook

Upon returning to the real world, Zhang Wen was frantic. He immediately drove out to a high-end restaurant to gorge himself. His exaggerated manner of eating left the guests at the neighboring table dumbfounded. They called over a waiter, though it was unclear what was said. The waiter glanced over, looking troubled. The guests wore expressions of indignation until the lobby manager arrived, which finally eased their agitation.

Zhang Wen observed this with disdain. "Hmph, in a few days, they’ll all be eating dirt anyway." Ignoring the contemptuous glares of others, he finished his meal, paid the bill, and left. His next stop was the best bathhouse in the city. Between the bathing, scrubbing, and massage, Zhang Wen finally felt like he had come back to life.

"Reality is still the best. You can eat whatever you want. What is money? Money is just scrap paper!" As he spoke, he felt like weeping. He had just won 200,000 in a scratch-off lottery, but before he could even enjoy it, he had to return to that wretched game. "Life is so lonely..." With those words, he drifted off to sleep. People bustled around him, but he remained motionless, as if he hadn't slept in an eternity. Only when a staff member reminded him that he could go to the designated sleeping area did he slowly rise and shuffle away, step by step.

After a night's rest, Zhang Wen finally felt satisfied. "Ding-dong," his phone suddenly chimed with a message notification. Still groggy, he fumbled for his phone and saw it was an official text. He scanned it casually and was about to swipe it away when his eyes suddenly widened. "What the hell?"

Every citizen in China received a text message at 8:00 AM that morning. It contained only a few simple sentences: "An unknown civilization will descend upon Blue Star in 48 hours. Please return home as soon as possible and memorize the 'Survival Manual'."

The first reaction of everyone who received the message was, "Is this a scam?" Pity it didn't include a request to send 50, nor did it leave any suspicious links. But immediately after, many office workers in private enterprises received notifications from their supervisors: "Starting today, we are on leave. Please return home as soon as possible to reunite with your families and memorize the 'Survival Manual'."

Government agencies also received notices to assist airports, train stations, and bus terminals in ensuring the safety of everyone trying to get home. The military also received orders to assist various units in completing transport tasks. As order after order was issued, China was on the verge of completing a population migration even larger in scale than the Spring Festival rush. On the internet, netizens shifted from disbelief to skepticism.

Soon, various topics hit the trending searches:
"Did you all get the text?"
"Yes, my company announced a break."
"Is this for real? Isn't this a scam?"
"It's real. I work at a community center and we're currently conducting a census."
"I'm a teacher, and we've already been told to take leave. I'm messaging parents one by one, telling them to bring their children and memorize the 'Survival Manual'."
"Universities are closed too. Our advisor just notified us; those who can buy tickets should, and for those who can't, we're organizing chartered buses."
"Wait, I’m panicking. What is going on? Are aliens attacking?"
"Extinguish human tyranny! The world belongs to..."
"The apocalypse is coming, haha! Let's all perish together."
"I don't have to pay my mortgage anymore, yay!"
"Does this mean I don't have to pay my online loans either?"
"Probably not. If it were really the apocalypse, why would they want us to reunite with our families? We'd just wait to die."
"[Images] The troops are out on the streets, so it must be real."
"I believe it. I’m rushing to get a ticket."
"Heh, too late. The tickets are all gone."
"No way, even standing room is sold out?"
"Heh, luckily I'm smart and already booked a charter."

While netizens were still buzzing with discussion, those holding down the front lines in reality were already busy. Cen Yi had become a community worker just last year. Although the pay was low, it was close to home, included benefits, and had weekends off. In this harsh job market, even though the work was busy, it was manageable. Ever since the notification arrived, her phone hadn't stopped ringing.

"Mom, the text is real. Just stay at home."
"Oh, you don't need to buy anything. Just study the 'Survival Manual' well; you can't bring anything inside anyway."
"Grandma's blood pressure medication won't work either. Oh, I'm very busy right now, I'll talk to you when I get home."

Her colleagues were also receiving constant calls from people looking for information, but they were too busy to answer. The community where Cen Yi worked was mostly relocated residents, with many elderly people, making the registration process complex. It was better for those with children, as they could arrange to reunite the family and enter the game together. But there were also elderly people living alone—no children, no spouse—some even bedridden. You couldn't just leave them to their fate, could you?

Beyond that, there were special schools, mostly for orphans with severe physical disabilities or intellectual impairments. These children also required proper arrangements. Even some people with families didn't want to be with them; such individuals often had deep-seated family conflicts, but they couldn't be ignored either. The trivial tasks left Cen Yi spinning in circles, not even having time to drink water.

Another colleague was responsible for promoting the "Survival Manual." Young people were fine, but the elderly—some were illiterate, and others, even if they could read, didn't understand what a game was, requiring door-to-door explanations. For grassroots workers like Cen Yi, pushing the work forward was fraught with difficulties.

Special venues also faced many challenges, such as hospitals. There were patients reliant on machines to maintain vital signs, as well as many emergency patients, and doctors had to remain at their posts. Helping patients and doctors reunite with their families was also a massive undertaking.

China faced enormous pressure, not only from domestic questioning but also from international public opinion. Among them, the rhetoric from the ROK and India was the most pointed.
"Aish, have the Chinese gone crazy?"
"Heh, the leadership is crazy, and the people below are crazy too. I’d rather close the flight routes between the two countries to avoid the spread of this madness."
"Hahahahaha."
"China is not just a repeat offender of plagiarism, they’ve gone insane. Ridiculous."
"How laughable, there are actually people who believe this nonsense."
"I heard if you don't agree, your social credit score goes down."
"Since China is crazy, can they give back our festivals and characters now?"

Those stinging remarks were relayed back home, sparking another wave of controversy. Yet, the authorities offered no response. Instead, they continuously broadcasted the content of the "Survival Manual" on television, radio, and other platforms. This manual had been created by relevant experts based on information provided by Ning Yun. It was catchy and easy to understand. Most importantly, it explained that to enter the game, one must hold hands to be recognized as a team, with a limit of no more than eight people.

At this moment, Ning Yun was not at the Hu family residence; she was in a car with Hu Cunji. Their destination was unknown to ordinary people. Ning Yun felt anxious, her hands trembling slightly. "Is he... really going to see me?"