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Shen Yu slowly raised his hand. In the next moment, the gray mist that had been floating around him surged inward, converging in his palm. It shimmered softly, casting a faint light into the surrounding darkness.
This darkness—that was the true form of the Mist Space.
As for the mist itself, Shen Yu discovered its secret not long after he acquired the space. It came from doing good deeds. Helping others, saving lives—it all generated mist.
The more important the person, the greater the help rendered, the more abundant the mist.
And its uses?
Omnipotent.
Yes, truly omnipotent.
Crafting objects, enhancing the body, curing diseases, acquiring knowledge, even resurrection... or breaking the rule that no life can survive inside the Mist Space—mist could do it all.
But the cost was enormous.
He once tried resurrecting a poisoned ant and burned through all the mist he had gained from sponsoring over a hundred impoverished children.
In other words, the mist was powerful, but scarce.
This was why Shen Yu ventured into the medical industry—among all acts that earned mist, saving lives yielded the most.
“Doomsday...” A shadow passed through Shen Yu’s mind.
As the master of the Mist Space, he knew just how terrifying its power could be.
Wealth? Authority? Meaningless.
With enough mist, he could attain anything—immortality, omniscience, even reshape the course of human civilization.
His original plan was clear: build wealth through trade, unlock advanced medical technologies with mist, and steadily expand his influence.
Eventually, nothing would be beyond reach.
But the sudden apocalypse shattered that vision.
The meteor hurtling toward Earth—far beyond the scale of previous strikes—was only the beginning. Even the three prior events were beyond his current capabilities.
And when the true disaster arrives... what will be left of humanity?
Even if he hides in the Mist Space, what good is it if civilization is gone? Where would he get more mist?
Without it, not even his loved ones could be saved.
Surviving alone would be a hollow, meaningless existence.
“I have to act. Now.”
Shen Yu wasn’t the type to wait for death. Not with something as miraculous as the Mist Space in his hands.
Besides, the space still held untapped secrets.
Not a feeling—but a fact he’d traded mist to learn.
He calmed himself and moved toward the warehouse. After confirming no one was around, he tapped the air lightly. The gray mist spread out, devouring every item in the building.
Then the next warehouse.
Half a year ago, when news of the meteor was made public, Shen Yu cautiously used all his mist for a prediction.
He received only four words:
“Crisis is coming.”
He knew then—it was serious.
So he began preparing.
The doomsday fortress was only the start. He built hidden bases overseas, purchased and modified islands, and stockpiled goods—especially weapons and food.
The latter ensured survival. The former ensured safety.
Most were already stored in the Mist Space. The remaining supplies, recently acquired, were to be taken today.
The latest meteor incident in Westborne would level an entire city, killing hundreds of thousands. Once the truth spread, society would unravel faster than any disaster could.
The overseas warehouses were no longer safe. Nor were supply chains.
He had to move—fast.
But just as he reached the fifth warehouse, his eyes narrowed.
Someone was here.
The instincts gifted by the mist kicked in instantly—he retreated into the fog just in time.
Rat-tat-tat!
Gunfire exploded where he had stood moments earlier.
Outside, voices shouted in chaotic foreign tongues:
“F**k, what the hell was that?”
“I just saw a cloud—then a guy appeared!”
“Alien?!”
“Looked human to me!”
“Everyone stay alert! This messed-up world has everything!”
“Hurry up! Get those crates!”
Shen Yu’s pulse quickened. He pressed his ear to a pinpoint tear in the space, listening. His brow furrowed.
They were fast.
This warehouse was far from the impact site, yet someone had already come, knowing exactly what was stored here.
Must’ve been someone involved in procurement.
And just as Ji Mingshu warned—order was collapsing faster than the end itself.
Calling the police? Useless now.
Shen Yu scanned the rows of weapons around him.
Fight back now? Abandon the warehouse? Retreat and call in his private forces?
Just as he was deciding, a shiver ran through his soul.
That feeling—he had felt it only once before.
Right before the car crash.
It wasn’t a bodily instinct—it came from somewhere far deeper.
He stared into the mist.
“What’s happening?” he asked himself, as a strange answer welled up from within.
Then the mist churned violently—
And two figures emerged.
He had tested this space countless times—no other life could survive here but him.
But now... that rule was being rewritten.
Staring at them, Shen Yu was struck by disbelief—and joy.
One wore ancient robes, long hair flowing, sword in hand, noble and refined.
The other, a towering figure of cybernetic muscle and armor, a warrior straight out of a cyberpunk future.
All three locked eyes.
No words.
No hostility.
In that moment, they understood each other completely.
- Writer
