The vast, dazzling expanse of the firmament, strewn with countless stars like scattered jewels, revealed a colossal, dark-red planet when viewed from the pockmarked surface of the moon.

This celestial body was not the sun; just three years prior, it had been a brilliant blue world, shimmering like liquid mercury.

This was Earth.

Gazing down through the atmosphere and the high cloud cover, the familiar continents of old Earth were utterly transformed; vast tectonic plates had shifted and realigned, undergoing a seismic overhaul in just a few short years.

The once immense continent of Asia was now a scattering of fragmented islands floating upon a magnificent, churning sea. Conversely, the vast Atlantic Ocean had seemingly risen, revealing a gigantic landmass adorned with bustling metropolises and exquisite palaces.

At this moment, upon the reshaped continents of Earth, in a scorched landscape of fiery red, amidst ruins of crumbled walls and buildings half-buried in sand, a sudden, inky void tore open in the air, as if the very fabric of the atmosphere had collapsed inward. From this rift, several figures shot out, landing soundlessly on the ground.

It was Ye Chen and his companions.

A wave of scorching, roaring heat crashed over them. Before Ye Chen could fully stabilize, he was assaulted by the extraordinarily intense thermal currents engulfing the planet, causing him to frown involuntarily. Based on the memories of his past life, one hundred years in the Primordial World equated to only one year on Earth.

The flow of time between these two worlds was vastly disparate.

Returning now, only two or three years should have passed on Earth. When they departed, it had been the late stages of the Ice Age. Accounting for the passage of time, this should correlate to the final phase of Earth’s Magma Age.

Following the Ice Age came the Magma Age. According to the progression Ye Chen had witnessed before, Earth’s continents had drastically altered, geography irrevocably changed. Volcanoes erupted everywhere—on land and beneath the sea—spewing forth scorching lava like countless pores.

The oceans were dyed crimson by the magma, and countless mutated marine life perished within. The landmasses were buried under volcanic ejecta, rendering the myriad mutated jungle creatures unable to survive; some, however, evolved in response to the shifting climate.

Survival of the fittest had always been the immutable law, from antiquity to the present.

Those who remained long in the heated zones developed a certain tolerance to intense heat. However, during the era following the initial viral outbreak, the genetic chains within both humans and mutated creatures were profoundly unstable, facilitating rapid, almost immediate evolution—not the gradual transformation spanning millennia predicted by evolutionary theory.

Still, many of these evolved mutants could not withstand the infernos unleashed by the volcanic eruptions. A blistering, choking haze of ash and heat polluted the air entirely, thickening into clouds that obscured the sun’s light, plunging many regions of Earth into darkness for periods ranging from a month to half a year without a single ray of sunlight.

No sun meant no photosynthesis.

Compounding this, the toxic atmosphere saw oxygen rapidly depleted, causing vast numbers of organisms to slowly suffocate.

If these two catastrophes were not enough to ensure extinction, then in such a brutal environment, the scarcity of food became the third, and most terrifying, calamity!

Some exceptionally powerful mutated creatures could subsist for a day or two without breathing, or they evolved filtering membranes over their throats, trapping the toxic heat and dust from the air, expelling the residue before drawing in clean air.

Hunger, however, was a constant demand, requiring sustenance after every expenditure of energy.

Ye Chen felt the searing heat rising from the black scorched earth beneath his feet, his brow tightening. He surveyed the desolate, arid expanse. Judging by the fragmented remains of walls and the exposed concrete structures faintly visible in the ground, this location had once been a thriving metropolis.

Yet, the inhabitants were gone, while the city itself stubbornly lingered.

Did inanimate objects possess a longer lifespan? Or was every living being destined to burn, whether through kindness, wickedness, cruelty, or compassion, consuming itself rapidly?

“I wonder if anyone remains here,” Ye Chen thought of his previous life, when everyone at the Civilized Base established in Thunder Square—including himself—had been swept back to this era. Following directives from the high council of the civilization, they had swiftly cleared land and constructed human outposts.

“This is Earth?” Yue Ling looked around at the blackened ground, the soil so barren not even a single root could be discerned. In such desolation, it seemed impossible for anyone to survive. Disappointment was evident in her gaze. “Something terrible must have happened here; there isn't even vegetation left. I wonder if anything alive remains.”

Zhuge Fan, Bai Long, and Yue Heng, gazing upon the surrounding wasteland, felt a profound sorrow. Who, seeing this unrecognizable scar, could recall the former azure beauty of the planet?

Regardless, the moment their feet touched the ground, they felt a familiar warmth, akin to returning to a mother’s embrace. Even the soil beneath their feet felt intimate. Bai Yijun quietly studied her surroundings. She wished to observe closely the place where Ye Chen had spent his formative years, and to understand the environment that could forge a person with such unbreakable tenacity. Her eyes held not disappointment, but curiosity mixed with sharp intelligence. Suddenly, her gaze caught movement—a tiny black speck in the far northeast, steadily approaching their position.

The others noticed simultaneously and turned their heads.

With the eyesight Ye Chen and the others possessed, they could normally see objects over a thousand kilometers away in a straight line, but obstructions obscured distant views.

Earth, however, was spherical.

Thus, even though the small black speck was walking along level ground, from the perspective of Ye Chen and his group, it appeared to be slowly ascending a gentle slope—first the head, then the body, and finally the feet—all becoming perfectly visible within their pupils.

This tiny speck was undeniably human. However... its body was encased in thick, fiery-red scales, sharp as blades, and behind it trailed a blood-red tail, extending from the spine like a pulsating vein, devoid of hair. The tip terminated in a sharp, cold triangle, appearing as if forged from metal, hovering behind it.

This person covered in red scales was a middle-aged man. His unattractive face was utterly devoid of expression, his pupils a dead, ashen gray, vacant of spirit. He wore no clothes and walked barefoot across the scorched earth. His feet resembled those of a wolf, lacking fur, making them look savage and ugly.

“What is that?” Yue Ling inquired, perplexed.

Ye Chen’s frown deepened as he intensely scrutinized the red-scaled figure, then stated, “Red Scale Zombie!”

“Red Scale Zombie?” Yue Ling looked confused. “What is that? A species unique to Earth? It looks quite similar to a human.”

“That thing is indeed an endemic species to Earth,” Ye Chen’s lips curled into a faint, bitter smile that vanished instantly. “They are not like humans; they were human, originally. Now, they are merely hosts parasitized by a pathogen, and under these harsh, fiery conditions, their physical structure has mutated, resulting in these Red Scale Zombies.”

“Pathogen?” Yue Ling and Bai Yijun both startled, a sense of foreboding gripping them.

Zhuge Fan murmured softly, “Correct. The reason we were transported to the Primordial World was the onset of the Ice Age on Earth, covering the globe in ice, and a biological gene technology experiment conducted by humanity. The successful outcome was accidentally released worldwide, causing mutations in all life forms on Earth, transforming them into various monsters. Humans who were infected became zombies! You can also call them ‘living corpses’ or ‘walking dead.’”

Bai Yijun glanced at Ye Chen and then stepped forward, taking his hand.

While they were speaking, the Red Scale Zombie, which had been slowly approaching from forty kilometers away, suddenly halted. It turned its gaze toward a pile of rocks mixed with dust and sand beside it. The previously expressionless face contorted into a hideous, savage bloodlust; the vacant pupils instantly filled with fierce aggression. Its body flashed, and it lunged toward the mound of rock and dust.

From within the rock pile, a violent, convulsive sound erupted, spitting out blasts of firepower like streams of flowing light, sweeping over the Red Scale Zombie and engulfing its body. A multitude of shell casings bounced out of the rock pile, scattering everywhere.

Yet, the Red Scale Zombie’s speed was frighteningly fast, surging forward with a sound like a sonic boom. A dense barrage of bullets struck its chest, but the sharp, fiery-red scales proved exceptionally hard. Under such forceful impact, they remained completely unscathed, suffering only a slight reduction in momentum. Even so, it was moving at supersonic speed—over 300 meters per second. In a flash, it was directly before the rock and sand pile.

Its towering form stood like a black monolith, eclipsing the sunlight above, looming over the debris. Its sharp triangular tail whipped up slowly, aimed directly at the rock pile, and it violently slammed downwards.

Thwack! Sand and dust erupted from the rock pile as a black silhouette burst forth, wielding a dark battle blade. It fiercely deflected the Red Scale Zombie’s tail and surged forward, delivering a brutal chop to the zombie’s chest.

The sharp edge of the blade actually scraped against the crimson scales, sparking a brief flare of fire.

The Red Scale Zombie’s sickly green eyes fixed on the slender figure before it. It suddenly lashed out a hand, its razor-sharp claws tearing through the soft armor with a screeching sound, ripping through the figure’s protective gear. Then, it opened its cavernous mouth and lunged to bite.

Its mouth looked terrifying enough closed, but when it opened, it distended like a snake’s, splitting nearly to its ears. Its maw revealed rows of sharp fangs and a thick, leech-like tongue coated in foul-smelling saliva.