Global Survival: I Got the D-Rank Personnel Simulator

Everything ended quickly. Apart from a few unconscious women and the club owner, Lin Ye killed everyone within minutes. The precinct’s spiritual energy submachine gun worked exceptionally well—powerful and quiet, capable of penetrating most spiritual energy shields with just a few bullets.

And Lin Ye never missed.

Each bullet sliced through the air like an unstoppable blade, leaving no intact heads in its wake.

Mr. Gold collapsed onto the floor. The man before him had effortlessly wiped out years of accumulated manpower within minutes without sustaining a single scratch. Even the black-market spiritual energy bullets failed to leave a single mark on that dark suit.

Lin Ye approached Mr. Gold unhurriedly, grabbing his hair and forcing him to meet his gaze.

”I did everything you asked! I handed over everyone you wanted! Why are you still killing me?!” Mr. Gold screamed in desperation.

”Let me introduce myself. I’m the new precinct director, Lin Ye.” His voice remained soft and polite.

”...What?”

Mr. Gold froze, but quickly regained his composure and changed his tone: ”Which department were you from before? I know the higher-ups in the precinct! Do you even have evidence to come here and... arrest people?!”

”Of course I don’t have evidence. But you’re mistaken about one thing, Mr. Gold. We’re the same kind of people. You can make people disappear at will—so can I.””This is illegal...”

Mr. Gold trembled as he was forced to stare into Lin Ye’s pitch-black eyes.

”The law is important, but it exists to protect ordinary people in civilized society. And neither of us qualifies.”

Lin Ye sensed his target beneath the club and dragged Mr. Gold deeper inside.

”What do you want to know? I’ll tell you everything! I have evidence of those cultists’ crimes!”

Out of options, Mr. Gold played his last card. Whether the other side would retaliate wasn’t his immediate concern.

”Unnecessary. I’m not here for evidence.”

Unmoved, Lin Ye dragged Mr. Gold to a hollow floorboard, smashing it open with a kick to reveal a staircase leading underground.

”Then what do you want? Money? Intel? Women? I’ll give you anything I have!”

Wood splinters cut Mr. Gold’s eyelid, blood blurring his vision.

”I just want your death to be slower.”

”...What?”

”If I appeared out of nowhere and blew your brains out instantly, you wouldn’t even have time to suffer. That’s unfair. I’ll give you the death you deserve.”

Lin Ye hauled Mr. Gold into the dim dungeon. Most cells stood empty, but some still held prisoners—ordinary citizens of the city.

Mr. Gold had never cared about these ”weeds,” but now he’d clearly found new profit opportunities.

As Lin Ye passed, cell doors swung open automatically. He didn’t rescue them—he wasn’t a savior, only providing the bare minimum. Survival depended on themselves.

At the dungeon’s depths stood a room sealed by a spiritual energy shield. Lin Ye traced a collapse rune in midair, shattering the barrier.

Inside lay a 100-square-meter chamber. At its center stood a flesh and blood tree—bones forming its trunk, woven flesh its branches, blossoming brains its flowers.

Foul blood pooled beneath it. The branches quivered, the brains pulsated, as if consciously welcoming guests home.

”Eek!”

Mr. Gold saw the abomination for the first time. He’d never cared what the cultists did here—he avoided trouble.

As for the precinct? He always had ways to handle them. After all, they followed rules.

Lin Ye tore the flesh tree apart effortlessly with spiritual energy. This grotesque structure was clearly part of some ritual—exactly what he sought.

”Wait! I know things! I know who killed the director! I know where those cultists are! I can help! I have money too! It’s all yours!”

Seeing Lin Ye’s gaze, Mr. Gold panicked completely, smelling death.

”I’ve always disliked detective films—especially where the protagonist struggles against the killer, most good guys die, and the hero only catches the suspect after finding evidence.”

”Truth is, if you just kill everyone who deserves it, you don’t need clues or evidence. The case resolves itself, and only the wicked pay the price.”

”So comparatively, I prefer horror and action films.”

Lin Ye threw Mr. Gold into the squirming flesh pile, casually sketching a mutation rune. These victims became what they were because of him—this was fair.

”AAAAHHH! HELP! NO—”

Sealing the door, Lin Ye hummed a tune as he left the Golden Apple Club.

”To the black market.”

Lin Ye entered the sports car cheerfully.

”Yes, sir!”

Nora floored the accelerator again, sending the car speeding through streets.

”Aren’t you going to interrogate him? Mr. Gold had considerable influence—his intel might help future operations,” Grace asked through the earpiece, confused.

”I don’t trust him, and his information might be wrong. Otherwise, he wouldn’t still be in the city.”

Whatever he might’ve revealed, Lin Ye’s plans wouldn’t change. There was no need to listen.

Lin Ye began organizing his gear. Compared to Mr. Gold’s men, black market gangs were more professional, numerous, and troublesome to handle.

But to Lin Ye, this was merely slightly inconvenient. Next to the monsters from his simulations, these people weren’t even dessert—if not for the main course awaiting, he’d be bored to sleep.

”Sir, the black market has many gang members. Do you need backup later?” Nora asked excitedly, seeing Lin Ye prepare.

”Unnecessary. Wait in the car.”

Lin Ye positioned his gear for easy access, combat-ready.

”Yes, sir.”

Nora longed to contribute but had to obey.

Soon, the car stopped outside an alley. Lin Ye stepped out with a spiritual energy rifle, entering the dark passage.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang...

Advancing steadily, Lin Ye gunned down every gang member encountered.

Corpses littered the alley, none with intact heads.

Initially, groups tried ambushing Lin Ye. After several waves died, no one dared approach.

These were ultimately just bullies preying on the weak. When deaths piled up, fear took over.