Forecasting Natural Disasters for Novel Natives - Chapter 18

Peng Lan set down his thermos cup and glanced at the time—three minutes had already passed. He tapped the microphone lightly, and as his voice carried through the hall, the conference room quickly fell silent.

“You’ve each received your scripts,” Peng Lan said. “The scripts are numbered. Next, based on your numbers, go upstairs and find your assigned instructors. They are experienced directors, nationally recognized actors, and performance masters who will help you analyze the scripts more quickly, get into character, and rehearse the scenes.

“Once you’re confident there are no problems, come to me to get your number, then proceed to your assigned venues to begin your performances. Remember, after you receive your number, you only have one chance—no NGs, no retakes. If you can’t perform or if you mess up, the mission fails immediately.”

Peng Lan looked at the 400 people seated before him. “Your performance this time determines whether we can successfully break through and obtain acid-resistant supplies from the system, and more importantly, whether our country can make adequate preparations before the apocalypse officially arrives.

“This is an extremely serious and sacred matter. Although the process might feel awkward or embarrassing at times, you must fully immerse yourselves in your roles and deliver the emotions convincingly. The more authentic your emotions, the higher the mission completion rate. You need to find the right balance between precision and relaxation—this is something you must grasp and master.

“Furthermore, this mission will be directly recorded in your performance scores, significantly impacting your future promotions. At the same time, after obtaining the acid-resistant supplies, those with high completion rates will receive priority material rewards. Those with high completion rates can continue with subsequent missions; those with low rates will be replaced.”

After speaking, Peng Lan turned to the leaders. “Does anyone have anything to add?”

“No, let everyone get to work.”

Peng Lan nodded. “That’s settled then. Go find your instructors. It’s 2 PM now—anyone who hasn’t come to get their number by 5 PM will be automatically disqualified.”

Everyone quickly and orderly exited the conference hall. Peng Lan and the leaders followed shortly after.

Peng Lan arrived at a spacious hall on the first floor.

This was called the “Acid-Resistance Mission Command Center.”

The hall was filled with rows of workstations, all occupied by people—experts from various fields as well as younger staff members.

“Commander Peng.”

Everyone greeted Peng Lan.

Yes, after this command center was established overnight, Peng Lan became its commander, holding a section-level position. His title changed from “Team Leader Peng” to “Commander Peng.”

Of course, these details weren’t important. What mattered was that he held the highest authority in this command center, directing everything, and the center reported directly to A City’s government.

His authority was quite extensive.

Peng Lan nodded and sat behind the podium at the front, which faced the crowd.

On the walls on both sides of the hall hung several large electronic display screens showing lists of mission names—these were the 200 missions that had been distributed.

Beside the podium, several young assistants continuously operated computers, inputting the latest information, including which missions had been claimed and by whom, and which instructors and collaboration teams were assigned.

Additionally, these assistants served as communication liaisons.

“Is Number 17 ready? Then come to the command center to get your number. Commander Peng is already here.”

After hanging up the phone, Assistant No. 1 told Peng Lan: “The couple for Mission 17 will be here shortly.”

Peng Lan nodded and opened the system, waiting.

The Pickup System seemed stunned by this whole operation, grumbling indignantly: “Cheating! This is cheating, and you’re doing it right in front of me!”

Peng Lan: “As long as it works. Don’t you want to try whether this method can complete the missions you assign and earn you energy?”

“This is fake. It can’t possibly complete the tasks.”

“Oh? So, giving Shi Feizhai cheats to deceive girls is real?”

The system fell silent.

Peng Lan said, “The process is real, the emotions are real, so the results are real. Let’s both be honest—you need the energy gained from completing missions, I need the supplies. After you get the energy, convert my share into supplies for me. That’s our cooperation.

“If we succeed, we both win. After all, we have strength in numbers and will be more efficient than Shi Feizhai, able to give you more. But if we fail…”

Peng Lan smiled gently, though a sharp glint flashed across his glasses, “then we’ll perish together.”

The Pickup System: “…”

This was a tough nut—harder than granite. It had initially thought this person looked refined and gentle, assuming he’d be easy to deal with, but he turned out to be much harder to manipulate than the previous host.

If it had known, it would have held out longer rather than binding with this person.

To unbind, either the host had to request unbinding or the host had to die—neither seemed likely at the moment.

The system deflated.

Soon, the couple with Number 17 came to get their assignment.

Their mission was a candlelight dinner—the requirement was to have a warm, romantic meal where the man would speak eloquently, show off appropriately to display his charm, and create some ambiguous atmosphere, while the woman would show sufficient appreciation and joy.

This really wasn’t difficult. As long as they got into character, it was no different from a state-funded romantic date.

Peng Lan didn’t ask many questions. These weren’t children—if they came, they were prepared.

He said to the man, “Extend your hand.”

The man extended his hand, and Peng Lan’s hand hovered over it. A virtual system screen appeared before him.

[Select this target as subordinate mission performer?]

[Yes.]

An invisible pale blue line extended from Peng Lan’s hand, connecting to the man’s hand.

[Subordinate Mission Performer No. 1 binding complete]

Then the line disappeared.

The next moment, the man’s eyes widened slightly as he saw a virtual panel appear before him.

Peng Lan: “That’s the system sub-panel showing your mission items. When you complete the mission, it will display the completion rate and rewards—I can see the same content on my end.”

The man looked carefully and indeed saw a “Candlelight Dinner” mission with “100 Acid-resistant Raincoats” listed as the reward.

So completing this one mission would yield 100 Acid-resistant raincoats.

The woman also leaned over to look but saw nothing.

Clearly, she, as the “target,” couldn’t see the system.

Others present also couldn’t see anything.

Number 17 stood up and nodded solemnly to Peng Lan: “Mission will be completed.” Then he left with his girlfriend.

The assistant operated the computer, and soon the “Candlelight Dinner” mission text on the external electronic screen changed from blue to green, indicating the mission was officially claimed and in progress.

Soon, the next couple arrived.

As people claimed missions one by one, the tasks on the electronic screen gradually turned green.

A quick glance upward showed which missions hadn’t been claimed and which were being executed.

Peng Lan developed subordinates one by one, fully opening all subordinate slots—currently 150 positions available.

These subordinate positions could be changed, though each change required certain points. Points came from missions—besides the rewards themselves, each completed mission provided points.

Peng Lan picked up the reward list. Among these 200 missions, except for a few that were difficult or required greater scale with slightly higher rewards, the others were relatively ordinary.

He returned to the system main page.

The main page showed his current level as lv.1. Major rewards like water treatment plants, farms and ranches, food processing facilities, municipal buildings, and high-end office buildings required higher levels to unlock, and each needed substantial points to purchase.

Everything else could wait, but the water treatment plant had particularly high value.

Top-tier rewards like “Super City Acid-resistant Shield” and “City Air Filtration System” required even higher levels and points.

The road ahead was long and arduous.

Before the number distribution was complete, the system indicated a mission had been finished.

Peng Lan immediately opened the system—indeed, one mission was complete with a high completion rate.

It was a simple task: catch a stumbling romantic interest and carry her home.

Peng Lan raised his hand, and Assistant No. 1 hurried over.

Peng Lan: “Mission 29 is complete, 100% completion rate.”

Assistant No. 1 perked up and immediately said, “The reward for this mission is ‘Air Neutralizing Spray,’ right?”

“Correct.”

Peng Lan saw the reward had entered his personal storage and knew it was ready to claim.

He stepped out from behind the podium, faced the open space in front, and selected to claim the reward.

The next moment, a hundred spray guns appeared before him, each substantial in size, piled like a small mountain on the ground.

Everyone’s eyes widened.

These devices resembled spray guns with long nozzles connected to large cartridge-like structures below—heavy enough to require an adult to carry and operate them.

Experts rushed over with gleaming eyes, carefully picking up one. It was indeed heavy.

“So this is the air neutralizing spray—larger than we imagined.”

They actually had similar equipment themselves. After each acid rain, they had to spray neutralizers to make the air breathable.

But the effectiveness certainly couldn’t match system-produced items.

System products seemed to have built-in buffs—their effectiveness was inexplicably good, with components and principles that couldn’t be analyzed or replicated.

“Excellent! This proves our plan is correct and our actions successful!”

Peng Lan didn’t join the excitement but returned to the podium.

After taking out rewards, how to research, use, and distribute them was no longer his concern.

He told Assistant No. 2: “I also earned 20 points from this mission. Record it.”

Assistant No. 2 quickly noted it down.

How to use these points and what to purchase from the system required expert panel discussion.

“Contact the couple who completed the mission and assign them a new one.”

There were still dozens of ready-made character scripts awaiting distribution. Later, experts would study successful mission performers to assign them the most suitable scripts.

So that couple who successfully completed their mission was immediately given a new script.

Before they could catch their breath, they were led by instructors into a new scenario.

The feeling was like shooting fast-paced short drama segments—except without cameras, everything else was there: directors, assistants, makeup artists, costume designers, actors.

Many scenes were built indoors.

For instance, this building was actually A City’s Broadcasting Building, which contained many studios with ready-made sets.

Additionally, the command center had requisitioned a short video production base and a film studio.

Centralized locations meant everyone didn’t have to travel around outside or breathe harsh air, maximizing the safety and health of mission performers.

After the first victory, the second completed mission soon appeared, rewarding 100 barrels of acid-resistant coating in 25-liter paint buckets.

This coating only needed a thin layer on surfaces to provide acid rain protection—currently the most practical reward.

However, it only lasted one month before losing effectiveness.

But one month of protection was better than nothing—they’d deal with what came after when the time arrived.

The third completed mission earned: 120 acid-resistant building bricks. These construction bricks were reliable and could last decades.

The fourth: 200 square meters of acid-resistant film.

The fifth: 100 tubes of corrosive wound healing ointment. For acid rain-corroded wounds, application immediately formed a protective film and promoted healing within hours.

The sixth: Acid-resistant face masks for breathing freely even in extremely acidic environments.

The seventh: Acid rain warning devices that alerted 10 minutes before acid rain, usable three times.

The eighth: Acid-resistant card houses—hard cardboard like playing cards that instantly expanded into acid-resistant disposable shelters.

Missions were completed one after another; rewards were claimed and distributed—some stayed in A City, others sent elsewhere.

On the command center’s electronic screens, missions changed from blue to green to yellow—yellow meant completed, while red meant failed.

A glance upward showed the colorful display. More yellow made everyone happy; red caused hearts to sink and prompted experts to analyze what went wrong.

By evening, Peng Lan’s system level had reached lv.3, with 20 additional subordinate slots.

An assistant brought a list. “Commander Peng, a new batch has arrived—100 couples this time.”

Peng Lan worked on the computer, and soon the printer produced a sheet. “Here are 50 new missions. Give them to the scriptwriting team for expansion. Have the newcomers train first—they’ll take shifts later.”

The earlier couples, working quickly, had performed nearly three scenarios each. It was time to rest before their performance declined and affected completion rates.

The assistant nodded and prepared to leave, though hesitating as if wanting to say something.

The assistant thought about suggesting rest for the Director too—he’d been working non-stop for so long—but ultimately didn’t dare say anything and left quietly.

Peng Lan pressed his throbbing temples with his thumbs.

The Pickup System was exhausted: “I can’t take it! I’m going on strike—what system has to issue 200-300 missions a day?”

Its CPU was practically smoking.

Peng Lan coldly refused: “No. Continue issuing missions.”

Now that the system was running, this mission-reward operation couldn’t stop—it was a 24/7 operation.

“You can’t exploit me like this! Using the system so frequently, you can’t handle it either.”

Peng Lan closed his eyes, grabbing a moment’s rest: “Then I’ll have the scriptwriting team help you think up missions. Everyone in the writing team is creative—much better than your nonsensical missions.”

“No!”

“Then what do you want? Not working isn’t an option.”

If the system had human form, it would probably be gnashing its teeth. These humans were terrifyingly driven, and this host was the ultimate workaholic.

Being driven was bad enough, but he was also like a monk, surrounded only by men—what a terrible environment!

“I want… I want…” the system stammered hesitantly, as if holding a handkerchief it wanted to bite.

“?” Peng Lan opened his eyes.

The system steeled itself: “I want to see pretty ladies!”

Peng Lan: “…”

He gradually frowned, his gaze sharpening to pierce a point in the air: “System, are you really just a system?”

The system panicked, unsure how to explain, when Peng Lan’s phone rang.

“The Sky Screen is back.”

Peng Lan immediately stood and left the command center.

On the Sky Screen, it was showing the scene of the little girl hiding in the delivery truck, with Weizi narrating zombie evolution characteristics.

Several men and women in the Broadcasting Building who could see the Sky Screen gathered to watch. “This zombie world is so brutal?”

When zombie claws tore through the delivery truck, they gasped.

Though this was happening in another world, seeing children suffer evoked the same sympathy.

Then the familiar payment interface appeared. Everyone skillfully paid and continued watching.

[…Until the appearance of ability users did humanity truly begin to fight back.]

Everyone perked up—ability users? This sounded interesting.

[Ability users, as the name suggests, are people with extraordinary abilities. These abilities manifest in various ways. The most common are enhancement-type ability users—those with increased strength, agility, vision, hearing, or sixth sense. Generally, abilities must exceed ordinary people by two to three times to qualify as supernatural.]

[The second category is elemental-type ability users who can wield forces like wind, fire, water, and electricity—essentially breathing fire, spraying water, generating electricity, controlling wind, manipulating plants, etc. This type has the strongest combat power.]

[The third category is special-type ability users—spatial abilities, invisibility, X-ray vision, limb regeneration, etc. This is the rarest type but most varied in form. The most mysterious is post-death soul projection—supposedly existing in spirit form.]

The 715 people in the acid rain world listened with great interest. These abilities were fascinating, though unfortunately, they were from another world—their world probably lacked the conditions for developing such powers.

Still, considering that world was overrun with zombies, the price for gaining abilities was steep—not worth envying.

Peng Lan was thoughtful.

He wasn’t envious of the abilities but found the soul projection concept inspiring.

Though he hadn’t been bound to the system long, he’d discovered it was quite emotional—initially maintaining a cold facade but easily becoming agitated when provoked.

Often it seemed less like a system program and more like a person.

Peng Lan lowered his eyes. Being human was good—humans had weaknesses, and weaknesses made them controllable.

*

「Zombie World」

The people of Yongcheng City looked up at the sky, seriously studying the three types of ability users described.

“Hey, the second type seems better—stronger combat power.”

“The third type isn’t bad either—invisibility is cool!”

“Spatial abilities would be nice too—put your house in space, take it anywhere, perfect for fleeing.”

“I’m not greedy—give me the first type. Being two to three times stronger than ordinary people would be amazing.”

“How do you become an ability user?”

On the Sky Screen, a faceless figure waved his hand and released multiple fireballs. The scene was like magic as waves of zombies fell—incredibly enviable.

Weizi’s voice became lighter.

[The proportion of ability users among humans isn’t very high, but in fact, everyone has the potential to become one.]

“Really?”

“What are the criteria?”

[Remember the three-minute coma period, previously called ‘The Prelude of Despair? Actually, it later gained another name: ‘the Parting Gift of the Forerunners.’]

[According to authoritative research, later ability users shared one common trait: during those three minutes, they maintained relatively close proximity to zombies.]

[Moreover, the closer the distance, the stronger the abilities awakened afterward.]

Everyone fell silent.

So to awaken abilities, they needed to stay near zombies during those dangerous three minutes?

What if they got bitten?

Wait—they couldn’t know in advance who would become zombies!

So this method was completely unusable!

Everyone was deeply disappointed, booing loudly.

But Tan Feng was thoughtful. Was that really how it worked?

In his previous life, before he fainted, he had been at the office. When he woke up, several coworkers had already turned into zombies, biting everyone in sight.

Calculating his position before unconsciousness, he was indeed not far from any of them!

Hello readers.. 

I do hope you’re enjoying this book so far. 

This is a schedule announcement. So, the trial period is over. Future Chapter releases will follow the schedule of one chapter every three days.. that’s for free releases.

With regards to advanced chapters.. I’ll just do one monthly mass release of a minimum of 15 chapters or more… The more will depend on how busy I am on that particular month. So don’t say I didn’t warn you.. before you commit make sure you understand these terms and conditions.

So please.. I beg.. no putting me on the spot on discord by asking me for more chapters.

Note: The Release schedule is subject to change. You will be notified though if there are any changes.

Also, chapters that have 4000 or more words will be split into two and be treated as two separate chapters when they’re released.

That’s all for now.

—Steamedbuns💞