Hearing this condition, Amber was stunned for a moment, then his eyes curved into a smile. He raised his coffee cup as if it were wine and said,
“Sister You, you’re amazing!”

Su You: “So happy about being a wage earner, huh?”

She thought of Li Xiannian. “Were all these connections arranged by Mr. Li?”

Amber gave a sly grin. “Of course. That old fox—once he got on board, he started dumping his bonds and stocks and buying up huge amounts of supply ships. Looks like he doesn’t plan to set foot on land again.”

“The news about Snowell City seems to have been suppressed, but only for most ordinary people. After all, a city being locked down and then nuked can’t be hidden from those capitalists who bolt at the first hint of trouble.

“They think even though Snowell City is gone, the T-virus might not be contained. After all, this highly contagious unknown virus still has no effective vaccine. These people are extremely pessimistic about the future. Some are selling off unimportant factories, so I plan to take them over.”

Su You nodded. “I think that’s feasible. While they’re stockpiling supplies, we can blend in—our abnormal purchases won’t attract suspicion.”

Suddenly, Amber’s expression turned serious. After checking that no one was around, he whispered, “Sister You… in the future, it won’t just be the zombie virus, will there? There’ll be other disasters too?”

Su You shot him a glance. “Why do you say that?”

Amber lowered his gaze and chuckled. “Those big capitalists—their survival bunkers are either massive cruise ships weighing tens of thousands of tons, or reinforced underground doomsday fortresses. Some even escape to deep mountains and forests. But you’re completely different from them.

“I tried connecting to the largest AI system in the base, but I couldn’t even breach its firewall. The design was so exquisite. And then there’s the base in some unknown space—it’s nothing like the technology we’re supposed to have in this era.”

Finally, Amber cautiously asked, “Sister You… you’re not an alien, are you?”

When he said this, his eyes carried hope and curiosity, with a kind of excited anticipation.

Su You stirred her coffee with a silver spoon, smiling faintly. “What do you think?”

She didn’t give a clear answer, but Amber’s heart started pounding harder, growing more and more excited.

Could it really be true?

If it was, then Su You possessed the most precious and safest refuge in the world—and he had chosen the right person to follow.

Su You had no idea—just this one question had sent Amber’s imagination soaring out of control.

But then again, she didn’t know the origin of the system either. Who knew—maybe he’d guess right one day!

System: …

Su You felt a certain emotion stir and raised an eyebrow.

She gave her parting instructions. “I’ll be flying back home tonight to handle matters there. The situation here in Country A—I’ll leave it in your hands.”

Amber, entrusted with such responsibility, thumped his chest in assurance. “No problem, Sister You. I’ll do a great job. If anything goes wrong, you can come to the base and hit me.”

—

After finishing her handover with Amber, Su You boarded a plane back home.

She chose to travel by regular means, determined to be a law-abiding citizen before the apocalypse, avoiding any unnecessary accidents.

During the long flight of over ten hours, she opened the Doomsday Website to check for new posts.

The moment she logged in, she saw post activity skyrocketing. More than a dozen threads were marked in red as “hot,” and new ones were flooding in nonstop.

She clicked on the most popular one. The title read—
“[Analysis] Snowell City wiped off the map, locked down, military stationed—what’s going on?”

It was posted by a Country A netizen, who first summarized the situation.

He had noticed that Snowell City had disappeared from all electronic maps. Satellite maps showed only a blank zone. When he contacted customer service, they told him it was a system or satellite malfunction, that technicians were rushing to fix it, and not to worry.

But after three days, there was still no reply. The maps remained unchanged.

Suspicious, he tried other map providers, even from different countries—yet the results were the same.

Snowell City no longer existed. It couldn’t be searched, couldn’t be located.

Meanwhile, online information about the city was vanishing.

Encyclopedias, social platforms, professional databases, business sites—all scrubbed.

If it weren’t for someone producing old paper tickets with Snowell City printed on them, people might have thought it was just a collective hallucination.

Even with posts being deleted quickly, the netizen pieced together enough clues to conclude something had happened in Snowell City. The government must have locked it down completely, erasing all information with absolute force.

He then stumbled upon this Doomsday Website. At first, he thought it was just a niche hobbyist forum. But the eerie countdown on the homepage—and a post from eight days ago mentioning Snowell City—caught his eye.

That earlier post had said the author lost contact with relatives in Snowell City, and heard about rabies-like cases spreading—people behaving abnormally. He asked if anyone knew what was happening there.

But it seemed no users of the site were from Snowell City. Nobody answered him. Nobody believed him.

After all, in such niche circles, it was normal to have pranksters trying to spread panic for attention.

So, other netizens ridiculed him, suggested asking local bloggers, or said maybe his relatives just lost their phones.

The post quickly sank, and the author never replied again.

Now, based on this, the analytical poster concluded that something catastrophic—perhaps a biohazard outbreak—had occurred in Snowell City, explaining the lockdown and censorship. The government simply didn’t want panic to spread.

He added another discovery: only this Doomsday Website seemed exempt from censorship. Discussions about Snowell City weren’t deleted here.

This site definitely wasn’t as simple as it looked.

The analysis post sent shockwaves through the forum.

Silent lurkers poured out.

They tried searching Snowell City themselves—and indeed found nothing. The maps were empty, like the city had never existed.

Some checked old books, train tickets, product origins, even long-discarded newspapers—and confirmed the city had been erased only online.

Residents of nearby cities tried driving there, only to be stopped by police roadblocks forbidding entry.

Countless posts began to pour in like falling snowflakes.

Doubters, skeptics, believers, and fence-sitters.

Finally, someone turned their gaze to the website’s homepage.

A massive heart pulsed slowly, blood-red liquid inside gradually draining away, as if the heart was about to run dry—suffocating to watch.

Above it, the crimson countdown read:
【Doomsday Countdown: 03 Days 02 Hours 01 Minute 11 Seconds】

—

Author’s Note: Thank you all for your support! The second round of recommendations has gone through successfully~
The third round is about to begin (though it might not pass). If you’re reading this, don’t forget to cast your free votes and show the author some love~
Also, thank you to the kind reader who sent feedback about typos—I don’t know who you are, but I really appreciate it~
Even though I double-check after posting, some slip through. Feel free to report them—it’s super easy for me to fix in the backend. (I know it’s annoying, but typos really affect the reading experience.)