Doomsday Paradise

Chapter 3: Are Cards Too Absurd?

The tender, springy flesh of a young woman sank between Ren Nan’s teeth, the metallic tang of blood staining his chin. One more ounce of pressure, and Lin Sanjiu’s fragile life would vanish forever.

But Ren Nan froze.

Not because he didn’t want to devour this prime specimen—but because he *couldn’t move*. A chef’s knife was buried to the hilt in the back of his skull.

His pale eyes still held a trace of excitement. Even in death, he couldn’t comprehend why Lin Sanjiu’s empty hands had flailed uselessly in the air… and yet *he* was the one who died.

For a moment, the only sound in Lin Sanjiu’s ears was the thunderous pounding of her own heart, muffled beneath the weight of the corpse. Gritting her teeth against the agony in her neck, she shoved Ren Nan off with all her strength. The body toppled backward with a *thud*, the knife’s tip now protruding from his gaping mouth.

Clutching her bleeding throat, her hand already slick with crimson, Lin Sanjiu gasped for air. She kicked the corpse weakly, her voice a hoarse whisper: *"...Who said I only evolved two traits?"* Just speaking sent fresh waves of pain through her ravaged throat.

The kick cost her. Darkness swam at the edges of her vision, and she nearly collapsed—blood loss hitting harder than expected. Survival instincts kicked in. Staggering to the kitchen, she grabbed a towel and pressed it hard against the wound, collapsing back onto the floor as she fought to staunch the bleeding.

Outside, sirens wailed across the city, punctuated by distant screams and sobs—a chaotic symphony that only emphasized the deathly silence of the 38th-floor apartment.

Time blurred. Half-conscious, she clung to the towel until, miraculously, the bleeding slowed. *Not an artery. I might live.* Gulping water revived her enough to take stock of the nightmare around her.

Ren Nan’s grotesque corpse still lay sprawled on the floor.

Steeling herself, Lin Sanjiu crawled to the body and placed a trembling hand on it. *"Store it,"* she croaked.

A flash of white light—and the corpse vanished. In its place lay a playing card-sized piece of cardboard.

She fumbled for her phone, illuminating the card.

As expected, crude crayon sketches depicted a man with a knife through his head, mouth stretched unnaturally wide. Bold text at the bottom declared:

**[Ren Nan’s Corpse]**

- **Name:** Can’t you read the title?

- **Species:** Human

- **Status:** …Dead

- **Potential Value:** 204

- **Prime Suspect:** Lin Sanjiu

- **Basic Abilities:** Extreme Temperature Adaptation, Physical Enhancement, Body Modification

- **Advanced Abilities:** *Hello Friend Hello*, Nutritionist

*"What kind of nonsense is this…?"* Lin Sanjiu glared at the card, torn between disbelief and grim satisfaction. This bizarre ability—her *third* evolved trait—had just saved her life.

Her power was simple: any object she touched could be converted into a card and stored within her body. A mere thought summoned it back.

The thrown boning knife? A distraction. The *real* kill came when Ren Nan bit her—and her hand, pressed to his skull, materialized the chef’s knife she’d carded that morning.

After days of testing, she’d learned she could only convert four items daily.

But this card… it was *different*. Flipping it over revealed densely packed text:

*Ren Nan, male, 25, hailing from another "New World." Socially awkward, unpopular with women, once received a confession from a male senior in college. After the New World’s descent, he struggled to survive (details omitted). Upon arriving in the suspect Lin Sanjiu’s world, he devoured a billionaire (Potential: 2), assumed his wealth, and targeted the suspect. Just as he was about to consume her, he was counter-killed.*

*"Why does it keep calling me ‘suspect’?!"* She tapped the text irritably. It dissolved, replaced by new descriptions:

**[Hello Friend Hello]:** *Identifies high-potential "seeds" in a crowd. Through intimate contact (kissing, hugging, etc.), this ability accelerates the target’s evolution. Mutual benefit—one gains an advantage, the other a meal.*

**[Nutritionist]:** *Maximizes nutrient absorption from consumed targets, inheriting their potential, abilities, and physical traits. A balanced diet ensures a brighter tomorrow.*

*P.S. The German-made chef’s knife in his skull features a sharp blade, lightweight durability, and was purchased for ¥599 on Jingxi Mall.*

Were it not for her **Keen Instincts**, Lin Sanjiu might’ve dismissed this as delirium. With a muttered curse, she pocketed the card—*no way* was she storing a corpse inside herself.

Curiosity nagged her. If Ren Nan’s card detailed his abilities, would hers explain the "New World"? She plucked a hair and whispered, *"Store it."*

**[Strand of Hair]**

- **Owner:** Lin Sanjiu

- **Quality:** Black, healthy, slightly dry ends.

- **Usefulness:** Annoying when stuck to brooms.

- **Note:** Root analysis suggests possible balding by age 40.

*Useless.* With a scowl, she dismissed the card.

*A scorching New World…* Her thoughts drifted. At 56°C, even with her **High-Temperature Resistance**, survival was brutal. How were ordinary people coping?

A jolt of realization—*Zhu Mei!*

Her friend could be in danger. Ignoring her injury, Lin Sanjiu scrambled for a backpack, raided the fridge for bottled water and soda, and changed into lightweight gear. The emergency stairwell swallowed her as she plunged downward.

Thirty-eight floors left her gasping. Sweat-drenched and panting, she pushed into the basement parking lot—and recoiled.

The heat here was *worse*.

Every car was running, headlights blazing, engines roaring in a deafening chorus. Exhaust fumes turned the space into a suffocating oven, temperatures soaring even higher than outside.

Desperate faces peered from behind fogged windows—parents clutching children, couples weeping, others slumped unconscious. Their refuge was temporary. Once fuel ran out…

Lin Sanjiu hardened her heart. Her measly supplies—five water bottles, three sodas, some bandages—couldn’t save them. She located Ren Nan’s Audi, slid inside, and opted against AC. Every drop of fuel was for Zhu Mei.

The streets were eerily empty, most vehicles parked with engines idling, occupants clinging to fleeting coolness.

Then—*impact*.

A dark shape slammed into her door with a *thud*.

---