Chapter 1: Transmigration and the Trial

The gray sky, shrouded in clouds of radiation, allowed only a few rays of sunlight to pierce through, offering the earth the barest glimmer of light. The air was thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder and decay. On the vast, endless wasteland, not a soul could be seen; only the occasional scurrying of a carrion rat or a giant insect lent a trace of life to the land.

Across the ground, choked with pale yellow weeds, streams of dark green, viscous sewage flowed, reeking of putrefaction. In corners where sunlight failed to reach, the sludge sometimes emitted a faint, eerie green glow—beautiful, yet deadly.

If one looked further, traces of humanity still lingered on this desolate plain—scattered car husks, the skeletal remains of skyscrapers, and concrete walls that had yet to collapse. It was not hard to imagine that this place had once been a bustling metropolis.

The rumble of wheels broke the silence of the wasteland. An enclosed carriage, armored with thick iron plates, rolled over the waist-high weeds, making its way from the distance and presenting itself as a strange sight upon the barren land.

Inside the carriage, Zhang Ran opened his eyes in confusion and quickly scanned his surroundings with cautious alertness. Around him sat more than a dozen boys of similar age but varying skin tones, filling the carriage to capacity.

Zhang Ran massaged his temples. If his memory served him right, he should have been napping back at the base. Yet here he was, waking up in a carriage—a surreal and unsettling reality. He lowered his gaze to examine his own body.

His surprise and bewilderment deepened—his once six-foot, strapping frame had shrunk to that of a slender boy barely four feet tall.

Had he… crossed into another world?

He pinched his arm hard, confirming that this was no dream. Just then, a torrent of strange memories surged into his mind, interrupting his thoughts.

These were the memories of a seven-year-old boy who, like Zhang Ran, bore the same name, born and raised in the wilds. For nearly two hours, fragment after fragment of the boy’s life played out in his mind until, at last, the memories ceased.

Piecing together the information, Zhang Ran could not help but give a wry smile. He had indeed crossed over—this was no longer Earth, but a completely unfamiliar wasteland world.

From the boy’s memories, Zhang Ran learned that this world had once boasted a civilization as advanced as, if not greater than, Earth’s. That was until three centuries ago, when a sudden nuclear war nearly wiped out humanity. Cities were reduced to ruins and wilderness, and less than one percent of the population survived.

Intense radiation cloaked the world, and under its influence, all living things mutated at an unimaginable pace—beasts, undead, aberrant humans. As ever more powerful monsters emerged, traditional firearms lost their effectiveness, and humanity’s survival grew ever more precarious.

Yet in this darkest hour, humanity produced beings known as "Evolvers." These individuals possessed physical abilities that surpassed human limits, and each wielded unique and extraordinary powers. Under their leadership, the survivors finally gained a foothold on the wasteland and began the arduous task of rebuilding civilization.

From the boy’s memories, Zhang Ran also learned that, like the other children around him, the original owner of this body was fortunate enough to have the potential to become an Evolver. For this reason, they had been conscripted by the nearby ruling power, the Black Hawk Corporation. Now, they were on their way to the corporation’s headquarters to join the "Black Hawk Youth Training Camp" and receive Evolver training.

"Wastelands, mutant beasts, Evolvers, superpowers—what a wondrous world this is!"

His heartbeat quickening, Zhang Ran clenched his fists.

Just as he was sorting through his thoughts, the carriage juddered to a halt. A gruff male voice called out, "You have fifteen seconds to get off the carriage and line up! I will be leading you through the entry trial. Pass the test, and you’ll be admitted into the Black Hawk Youth Training Camp!"

At the command, the children scrambled out of the carriage and quickly lined up, not daring to waste a second.

Before them stood a tall, lean man, over six-foot-two, with brown skin and a revolver at his waist. The gun’s barrel was so wide it could have fit an egg.

"Good. Follow me."

Pleased with their swift response, the man nodded and led the children into a great hall. At its center stood a rack laden with weapons—long guns, daggers, short swords, bows, and more.

"Choose your weapons! The trial is simple: defeat a marching ant on your own."

The man’s words caused many faces to pale in dread.

Marching ants were among the most common mutant beasts in the wild. They were not especially formidable; a well-armed adult could handle one alone. But these children were only six or seven years old, not yet near the wilderness’s adulthood standard of twelve, and were at best half as strong as an adult. To kill a marching ant alone was no easy feat.

"Sir, may I… may I withdraw from the trial?" a chubby boy, paler than the rest, raised his hand timidly.

"Withdraw? Of course, if you’re willing to walk back to the settlement by yourself."

The man’s cold laugh left the other children despondent. To cross the wasteland alone was far more terrifying than facing a marching ant. After all, the marching ant was the weakest of the monsters; carrion wolves, berserk rodents, and the undead were all far deadlier.

"Enough. Thirty seconds to pick your weapons. If you don’t, you’ll face the marching ant barehanded."

The man’s voice rose with impatience. Frightened, the children rushed toward the weapons, choosing as best they could. Growing up in the wild, they all possessed some measure of combat skills—survival demanded no less.

"This one will do!"

Zhang Ran strode straight to the rack, seized a military dagger, weighed it, and nodded with satisfaction before returning to the line.

The military dagger was one of the weapons Zhang Ran knew best. Before crossing over, he had been a professional mercenary, and aside from firearms, daggers were his specialty.

"Each of you, pick a passage. Begin the trial."

Once all had chosen their weapons, the man turned and gestured to a row of corridors behind him.

At his command, the children scattered. Zhang Ran chose the nearest passage and strode inside.

After traversing a corridor about ten meters long, Zhang Ran arrived at an iron-barred gate. Beyond it lay a circular arena, roughly ten meters in diameter, enclosed by thick steel rods.

At its center crouched a creature resembling an ant, but dozens of times the size of one on Earth. Its body stretched a full forty centimeters long, armored in crimson chitin bristling with conical spikes. Three pairs of thick forelegs supported its bulk, and a pair of sharp mandibles jutted from its head.

This was the marching ant—the target of Zhang Ran’s trial.

Sensing his presence, the creature lifted its wedge-shaped head, blood-red eyes fixing on Zhang Ran as its antennae quivered in the air.