Chapter Three: My Grand Debut Approaches

Hell Difficulty: Successfully clear a solo-themed hunting ground of F-level or higher within 24 hours and receive an A-level or above evaluation.

Fang Nian knew that the hunting ground themes were extremely intricate and complex—was it escape or puzzle-solving? Rescue or destruction? The variations were endless. As for the grading, it was notoriously strict, generally ranging from S to G.

An F-level hunting ground was actually considered advanced entry-level. Not particularly difficult, but riddled with dangers and pitfalls. For a small team with a few years of hunting experience, clearing it was typically not a problem.

But the challenge lay in the system’s requirement: it had to be a solo hunting ground. This meant Fang Nian had to shoulder every role of the hunter alone. For a rookie in the hunting grounds, this truly was hellish difficulty—especially since the clearance rating had to be A or above.

Yet now, with the arrow nocked, there was no turning back. As the saying goes, “If I do not descend into hell, who will?”

“How can I know it’s impossible without trying?”

With this in mind, Fang Nian hesitated no longer and clicked to accept the challenge.

“Hell difficulty accepted. Countdown: 24 hours. Please complete as soon as possible.”

Seeing the countdown begin on the system interface, Fang Nian wasted no time, reaching back to pat the sleeping Fatty.

“Fatty, wake up. Time to get to work.”

Fatty jolted awake, wiping drool from his face.

“Huh? Is it mealtime…”

...

Fang Nian and his companion were located in the northern district of Sector 16, a city nearly as large as a second-tier metropolis before the disaster—so one could imagine the sheer scale of Sector 16’s main city.

The northern district’s layout was not the familiar grid of Fang Nian’s home planet, but rather a flattened hexagonal trident street network. The design was meant for postwar regional management and maximizing land use, and the effect was distinctly futuristic.

Yet compared to the days before disaster, the city now showed almost no signs of life. Most buildings had suffered severe attacks, the greenery was sparse, and the air quality was worse than a desert, testament to the harsh toll the sun’s decline had inflicted on Earth.

Fatty sat in the passenger seat, holding a newly bought city map, circling an area.

“Old Fang, there are over a hundred hunting grounds in Sector 16, with the largest being the Xia, Xu, and Jin. In the northern district, nearly all hunting grounds and camps are concentrated on Soulfall Street—it’s a hunter’s haven. We might as well head there.”

“And I just heard from the map vendor that Xu Hunting Ground is launching a new theme today. The prize is hefty, and it’s a solo hunting ground—just what you need.”

Fang Nian nodded slightly.

“Alright, let’s go to Soulfall Street.”

...

Soulfall Street, the paradise for soul hunters—gazing from the entrance, one saw a myriad of hunting grounds and camps catering to hunters. Merchandise crowded the storefronts, hawkers shouted incessantly, and hunters laden with gear hurried through the throng. The place was teeming with life.

Fang Nian and Fatty hadn’t eaten for a day and night. Starving, their eyes glazed over, they had no mood for window shopping. Their steps were swift, crossing the district straight to the most imposing facade—the Xu Hunting Ground.

Fatty, looking miserable, fished five ten-dollar Hope Coins from the lining of his underwear and handed them to Fang Nian.

“Old Fang, this is all I’ve got left. This time, you must succeed. If you mess up and lose this too, we’ll have to sell our kidneys and bury ourselves.”

Fang Nian patted Fatty’s shoulder.

“Relax. You just watch me dominate in the spectator hall. When I’m out, we’ll have a feast.”

...

Inside Xu Hunting Ground, the place was abuzz with noise. A soothing instrumental played, heightening the festive mood. The grand spectator hall was packed, scarcely a seat to be found—truly a spectacular scene.

On the massive three-dimensional broadcast screen, a promotional video for the new hunting ground theme was looping.

“Xu Hunting Ground’s May blockbuster, F-level solo theme ‘Buried Alive’ launches with a bang. Thousands in prize money await you. In the depths of a sealed, pitch-black underground, demons silently approach, devouring everything. Crimson blood will spatter your body; scarlet eyes will watch you from the corners. In the darkness below, anything can happen. Your task: resist the terror within and endure—until someone comes to save you.”

Fang Nian watched the promo twice, feeling uneasy. He wasn’t afraid of violence, but he truly hated anything supernatural.

“That damned Fatty, what kind of cursed thing did he pick?”

But the arrow was nocked, and retreat was impossible. With no choice, Fang Nian steeled himself and walked to the registration point.

...

In the VIP suite of Xu Hunting Ground, Xu Lang gazed at the hunters in the hall, swirling his wine. A shadow flickered in his deep-set eyes. The suite door swung open, and Xu Zhuo staggered in, clutching a large gift box, grumbling as he walked.

“Second Brother, what’s with this thing? It’s so heavy. Are you really taken with Xia Moyan?”

Xu Lang set down his glass and glared at Xu Zhuo.

“I told you: it’s not me. Say it again, and I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Xu Zhuo, seeing Xu Lang’s anger, quickly switched topics.

“By the way, Second Brother, in this day and age, you’re still doing these old-fashioned themes? Will it work? I hear our big brother’s ace theme in the southern district is blowing up. If you flop this time, it’ll be hard to bounce back.”

Xu Lang’s expression turned cold.

“You know nothing. This theme was designed by Jin Jin Dao, the ace architect of the Jin family. It may seem unoriginal, but the mysteries within are deep—far beyond your grasp.”

Xu Zhuo’s interest was piqued and he pestered Xu Lang.

“Second Brother, what mysteries? Tell me, let me learn.”

Xu Lang scoffed, taking the gift box from Xu Zhuo.

“Third Brother, it’s not that I look down on you, but with your aptitude, you couldn’t even be a regular hunter, let alone a theme architect. So, just stay by my side like a loyal dog. When I inherit the Xu family business, I’ll make sure you get a share. Stay here and keep watch—I’m off to the Xia family.”

Xu Zhuo felt a bit disgruntled by Xu Lang’s words, but kept a goofy smile.

“Second Brother, today’s the theme’s launch day; the first session has five hundred participants. Aren’t you going to oversee it?”

Xu Lang smiled mysteriously.

“Relax. This theme… in ten days, no one will clear it.”

With that, Xu Lang strode out.

...

Fang Nian’s number was 251 for the first session, entry at 11:00 AM. With time to spare, he sat in the waiting hall, idly searching on his phone for information about solo hunting grounds—he suspected there was something fishy about “Buried Alive.”

He remembered when he worked odd jobs at the hunting grounds, solo themes had been launched before. Yet due to their limitations, they rarely sustained long-term profits and were usually cracked within three to five days. The prize money was inevitably low.

So, aside from newcomers, most hunters disliked solo hunting grounds. But “Buried Alive” was different: high-profile promotion, massive prize—something was off. Fang Nian felt his hunting ground debut might not go smoothly.

At 11:00, a rich baritone echoed through the hall.

“Welcome to Xu Hunting Ground. Our latest theme, ‘Buried Alive,’ will begin in twenty minutes. All five hundred hunters registered for the first session, please follow the instructions to the preparation area. A reminder: the hunting ground will officially open in twenty minutes. Thank you for your support.”

Hearing the announcement, Fang Nian took a deep breath and followed the crowd to the prep zone.

“My debut is here.”