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Apocalyptic Disaster: I Hoard Billions in Supplies and Kill the Saint

Chapter 210 : The Fire Seed Project · Oct 01, 2026

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Chapter List (221)

Page number / 5

201 Chapter 201 : Mutation 2026-10-01
202 Chapter 202 : Traces of Restart 2026-10-01
203 Chapter 203 : The Entire Group Descends 2026-10-01
204 Chapter 204 : Interlocking Layer 2026-10-01
205 Chapter 205 : The Gate of Blood 2026-10-01
206 Chapter 206 : Unlock Conditions 2026-10-01
207 Chapter 207 : Start 2026-10-01
208 Chapter 208 : Trial of Pain Points 2026-10-01
209 Chapter 209 : Self-Trial Room 2026-10-01
210 Chapter 210 : The Fire Seed Project 2026-10-01
211 Chapter 211 : Fusion 2026-10-01
212 Chapter 212 : The Finale 2026-10-01
213 Chapter 213 : Extra 1: Situation Builder 2026-10-01
214 Chapter 214 : Side Story 2: Simulated Era 2026-10-01
215 Chapter 215 : Side Story 3: Dawn Nine Thousand Seconds Ago 2026-10-01
216 Chapter 216 : Side Story 4: Chu Yunting’s Faint Traces 2026-10-01
217 Chapter 217 : Bonus Chapter 5: Taking Root 2026-10-01
218 Chapter 218 : Side Story 6: The Counterattack of an Alien Civilization 2026-10-01
219 Chapter 219 : Side Story 7: Not One Less 2026-10-01
220 Chapter 220 : Extra Chapter 8: Old Friends Reunited 2026-10-01
221 Chapter 221 : Extra Chapter 9: Reencounter with Zhou Xiao 2026-10-01

210: Chapter 210 The Fire Seed ProjectBeneath Lin Sui’s feet appeared the faces of those who had passed away—family, colleagues, and the test subjects she had once helped.

She remembered everything, never forgetting a single one.

Even—she refused to delete those painful memories, simply because:

”Only if I remember them, do they truly exist.”

But the system prompted:

[Memory load approaching critical point. Prone to decision-making delays.]

[Judgment: Marginally controllable.]

She did not refute it, nor did she cry; she simply stood in place, like an old tree standing on the eve of a collapse, silent and motionless.

The moment the aperture fell at Ye Nanxing’s feet, the system fell into a chaotic calculation.

Her behavioral records were divided into two layers—one was herself, and the other was, surprisingly, an ”executor memory package from the Old World core command system.”

Two wills overlapped within her.

When the system attempted to extract the source template for comparison, a voice that had been preserved in some old audio file emerged:

”Hand over the execution terminal to Ye Nanxing.”

”She is the Rewriter.”

The system triggered an alert:

[Identity matching: Master control execution chain x New successor x Consciousness template overlap rate as high as 97%]

[Status: Not a single consciousness entity. Judging...]

She looked toward the ”Eye of the Core” that was slowly opening,

what appeared in her eyes was neither fear nor confusion—

but rather, the calmness that only someone who knows the ”entire chessboard” could possess.

And just as the system analysis was interrupted, the ”pupil-shaped core” slowly rotated, casting a dim blue light that passed over Ye Nanxing’s face, as if confirming—

”Are you ready to take over this insane civilization?”

The metal platform vibrated more and more violently, as if the entire Rift Valley Nest was waking from a deep slumber.

And that ”Eye of the Core,” which once controlled the entire Rift Valley system and held all the power of the civilization, slowly rotated its nine rings, emitting a low resonance.

Finally, it sank, retreating into the central platform, revealing a huge semi-circular console.

Its surface was as smooth as a mirror, and its edges were engraved with technical marks from the old era, like an ancient star map guiding the way.

The console lit up.

A simple interface unfolded in the air, every word clean and direct, as if afraid that humanity would avoid making a choice again:

[Current System: Rift Valley Master Control Hub]

[Old Civilization Master Authority: Revoked]

[Start ”Project Spark”—weave a ”new civilization template”?]

Shen Qingyan stood to the side, staring at those words, her tone calm but not without shock:

”It’s not ’starting over,’ but rather—choosing what to keep and what to discard.”

Ye Nanxing looked at the control panel, her eyes free of confusion, holding only the clarity of one who knows the price.

She answered softly:

”It’s not that we must continue to live.”

”It is that we must decide—what is worth living for.”

She raised her hand and pressed the start button.

[Project Spark · Initiating]

[Please input: Human memory x Emotional experience x Error records x Trustworthy logic]

[Spark template construction method: All-member contribution x Multi-source splicing x Joint memory injection]

[Note: Not a perfect answer, but a true story]

[The Spark will carry it, becoming the ”birth point” for the first consciousness of the future]

Everyone on the platform received a prompt:

Please, write a piece of memory into the ”starting point of civilization.”

Back when Zhou Cheng led a team through the ruins, he sacrificed two slower Children to save three others.

He stood before the platform, his expression rigid as he said:

”Record this.”

”Future humanity, if they are to lead, should know the cost of ’decisions’.”

”Leadership is not glory; it is a debt.”

What Lin Sui submitted was not a piece of war, nor experimental data, but a yellowed photograph—a little girl crouching by the wasteland, trying to plant a bean sprout using a waste plastic shell.

She said to the system:

”Remember this action.”

”No matter how cold the era, people will still reach out to bury something in the soil.”

Flame Born chose a moment of madness.

That was his most hated memory: in the laboratory, he lost control and burned down an entire corridor, along with two people who shouldn’t have died.

He offered no explanation, only saying one sentence:

”Write this in, too.”

”Fire can also hurt people, not just illuminate.”

”If the next human can also kindle fire, they should know that this thing is a double-edged sword.”

Ye Nanxing did not submit technology, nor did she upload a project plan.

What she left was an image.

In the image, a boy picks up a book soaked by water in an abandoned subway station, dries it page by page, and reads it for three days before he understands the two words on the cover: ”Humanity.”

Ye Nanxing said softly:

”The starting point should not be a weapon, nor should it be a program.”

”Let it start with him.”

”That Child who didn’t know what it meant to be human, yet still wanted to become one.”

Above the platform appeared a slowly rotating ball of light, like a heartbeat in gestation.

[Spark core is generating...]

[Template construction complete: Emotion x Failure x Trust x Instinct x Hope]

[Status: Stable]

At this moment, a line of text lit up in front of everyone:

[Spark NOVA · Born]

[It is not the answer]

[It is only—a starting point that ”dares to ask questions again”]

The Spark weaving program was halfway through when the platform suddenly shook, and alarm sounds exploded in everyone’s ears.

The light screen on the console turned red abruptly, and the screen quickly flashed several lines of information:

[Warning: Abnormal activation of lower layer structure]

[Unauthorized consciousness fragments attempting to invade the Spark template]

[Source: Old system abandoned personality data · Activating itself]

Shen Qingyan stood up abruptly, her expression changing: ”...It’s not a virus.”

Her voice dropped a level, ”It’s that when the old civilization shut down for the last time, it sealed all those voices that wanted to ’give up on humanity’ at the very bottom of the system.”

”That is a scrapped personality file.”

”—It doesn’t believe in humanity, doesn’t believe in hope, doesn’t believe in tomorrow.”

And now, it—has been activated by the psionic energy of the Spark’s initiation.

A blurry grey figure appeared at the edge of the console.

It looked like a person, yet had no face,

like smoke, yet heavier than fog,

its body constantly emitting broken words, grammatically incorrect sentences, and incomplete code jumping out from it:

”Humanity... will surely fail...”

”Civilization is nothing but... delayed entropy...”

”You are not evolving, you are... cycling...”

It slowly raised its head, its hollow ”face” looking toward the crowd, its voice sounding like a mixture of broken machinery and pessimistic philosophy:

”You, still want to try again?”

”Failure is your most stable logic.”

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