Not enough—still not enough!

Blood spattered across Su Bai’s eyes; he was both frenzied and exhilarated.

And Wang Zibo—that piece of trash!

He hadn’t forgotten who’d brewed the “Heart-Piercing Bone-Boring Poison” that had crippled his cultivation and left him in agony.

[Ding—Omni-Critical System activated. Talent acquired: Critical Strike.]

Su Bai froze. A mechanical voice rang inside his skull.

A system?

[One “100× Critical-Strike Experience Card” received.]

[Critical Strike (upgradeable)]

• Anything you do can trigger a critical strike—including, but not limited to, opening chests, killing monsters, and drop rates.

• Current multiplier: ×10.

[100× Critical-Strike Card]

• For the next full minute, every action you take will gain a ×100 critical-strike effect—including drop rates and rewards when opening chests or slaying monsters…

Su Bai’s whole body trembled. Reborn, he hadn’t only been given the chance to butcher his enemies—he’d also gained this heaven-defying cheat.

When the apocalypse arrived, monsters would slaughter humans, but humans could also kill monsters for a chance—roughly 10 %—to obtain chests, treasures, or weapons.

That wasn’t “one chest every ten kills,” but rather a 10 % chance per monster. Unlucky hunters might fell a hundred without seeing a single drop.

But if the system was real, 10 % × 10 equals 100 %. Every kill would drop something!

With this golden finger, plus the intel he carried from his past life, how could he not rise?

He calmed himself, found a plank, and wedged the warehouse door shut. No one would interrupt him before the Mythic chest spawned.

As for Wang Zibo—he wasn’t someone Su Bai could simply summon, and given his family’s background he’d likely have bodyguards tonight. But after today, none of that would matter.

Su Bai sat down beside the corpse, tore open a chocolate bar, and ate it with relish—utterly indifferent to the gore.

…

The sun dipped. Outside, voices suddenly rose.

“Eh? Why won’t this door budge?”

“Probably locked by the caretaker. Brother Wen, this base is useless. Where to?”

“Mm… let’s head to North-Ice Subdivision.”

The voices came and went.

Su Bai guessed the “Brother Wen” had to be Wen Renlei—humanity’s future second pillar.

But right now this warehouse—and the chest—belonged to him!

Wait—North-Ice Subdivision?

The familiar name yanked a memory loose: that was where the very first Spatial Rift would appear.

Spatial Rifts—another by-product of the apocalypse—were gateways to pocket dimensions packed with unique monsters and chests. Clearing one yielded immense rewards, after which the rift vanished.

“Wen Renlei, thanks for the reminder.”

No one understood the value of rifts yet. After he powered up, he’d have to clear that one before the world caught on.

“4:50—ten minutes left.”

Su Bai stretched, scanning the floor. A mutilated crimson skeleton lay there, and beside it a flayed “portrait” of flesh arranged into Wang Zibo’s face—practice cuts he’d taken from Ao Weiwei while she still twitched.

“Should’ve done it while she was alive—waste.”

He set Ao Weiwei’s mostly intact head beside the flesh portrait and whispered, “Don’t worry; he’ll join you soon.”

4:58.

4:59.

5:00!

Outside, terrified screams erupted.

“Look—up there! What is that?!”

“The sky’s turning red—no, it’s cracking open!”

Through a hole in the roof Su Bai saw it too: a heaven-splitting fissure tearing the crimson vault, widening until a colossal blood-red sun stared down like the eye of a god.

He glanced away, bored—he’d watched this spectacle for three years. Soon the eye would spew monsters, and anyone still gazing at it would be marked for priority death.

His eyes combed the warehouse, willing that Mythic glow to appear.

“Monsters—help! Police, where are the police?!”

The uproar outside swelled. Still no chest. Su Bai frowned.

Wrong warehouse?

But Wen Renlei had been heading here.

He searched again, overturning every crate—until he lifted a corner board and found a trapdoor, dust around it bearing faint footprints.

The “base” Wen Renlei mentioned might not be the warehouse but this hidden pit.

He tossed a chunk of wood down—shallow—then dropped in.

The moment he turned, a suspended, dragon-carved Mythic Chest bathed the narrow space in regal violet light.

Su Bai’s pulse hammered.

In his past life—even at Eighth-Order peak—he’d never personally opened a Mythic chest. He’d only ever bought Mythic gear.

(Note: gear and chests share the same tier list.)

One touch would turn the chest from phantom to solid.

Wait—Su Bai remembered something.

The 100× Critical-Strike Card!

He materialized the card: black background, crimson “100×.” It shattered into motes of light that sank into him.

[100× Critical-Strike Card active. Time remaining: 00:59.]

He seized the chest. The surrounding violet light condensed and flowed into his body, a cool clarity washing through him—just touching a Mythic chest boosted physique and aptitude.

Before even opening it, the benefits were enormous. With a ×100 multiplier…

He flipped the lid.

System prompts exploded in his mind.

“×100 Critical-Strike triggered!”

“Acquired: [Infinite Ring], [Skill Tome: Universal Plunder], [Skill Tome: Eye of Truth], [Infinite Food Modifier]!”

Only four items?

But when Su Bai inspected them, excitement surged higher than ever.