Chapter 8: Since You Are Here, Make Yourself at Home

Li Gang picked up a small piece of sliced Hami melon and tasted it. It was sweet and crisp. After eating one small piece, he didn’t continue but instead stood in silence, gazing at the scene before him.

He didn’t know whether it was Shen Tian or her mother who had been here earlier, but there was one thing he was sure of: Shen Tian’s father rarely came to the shop.

Li Gang stood motionless for several minutes, the faint taste of Hami melon lingering in his mouth before fading entirely.

He searched around the cutting board but didn’t find the knife used for slicing the melon—no doubt, it had vanished with whoever had last held it.

So he took a knife from the utensil box, washed it clean, and began to pick up the unfinished work. Soon, two large transparent boxes were filled to the brim with neatly cut Hami melon cubes.

He planned to take them home, not wanting to let them go to waste.

He understood, with everyone gone and time passing day by day, there would soon be an abundance of ready-to-eat food left to rot.

If all of humanity had truly disappeared, this would become an apocalypse belonging solely to humankind.

Li Gang stepped out of the fruit shop, and a wave of heat washed over him. The afternoon sun shone upon his still-youthful, not yet fully mature, somewhat gaunt face, leaving points of fading light shimmering across his features.

He was calm now, in much better spirits than he had been just a few hours before.

“Since things have already happened, I must accept them. Even if I hadn’t disappeared, after a few decades I would become nothing but dust, wouldn’t I?” He comforted himself with such thoughts.

“But why is it that everyone else has vanished and I alone remain?”

“Could it be that ten years ago, the decree of God was real, and I was unimaginably lucky to become one of the ten thousand?”

The divine decree from ten years ago, proclaimed by someone claiming to be God, had faded from people’s minds over time due to the actions of various governments. Eventually, no one spoke of it again.

Major online platforms had directly blocked information about it, and any discussions or mentions about the decree were swiftly deleted.

Li Gang only vaguely remembered that the decree stated God would leave behind ten thousand people and erase all others.

After all, ten years ago he had just started middle school, still a boy with only a hazy recollection of the events, the details already lost to him.

“When I get home, I’ll search the internet properly to see exactly what was said in the divine decree ten years ago. But first, I need to find something good to eat and drink.”

Muttering to himself, Li Gang looked for a scooter with its keys still in the ignition, started it, and rode off toward the shopping mall. The sadness in his expression had largely faded, replaced by the faintest traces of a smile.

Since this is how things are, I might as well find peace in it.

Li Gang sat before his computer and opened his browser, searching for information about what had happened ten years ago.

His right hand occasionally left the keyboard to scoop up a handful of tomato-flavored chips from a large bag, stuffing them into his mouth.

On the bedroom floor, bags of snacks and drinks were scattered about, many of them expensive imported goods.

After leaving the fruit shop, he had gone to the nearest large supermarket and raided the shelves for his favorite foods, including things he’d never been able to afford before.

He had also swapped his phone for the latest model available on the market.

His clothes, too, were now all high-end brands costing thousands or even tens of thousands—something he had never dared to dream of before.

The scooter he’d used earlier was abandoned, replaced by a car parked by the roadside with the keys still in the ignition.

He had a driver’s license, having obtained it after high school, though his driving experience was limited. But now, none of that mattered.

Bag after bag of supplies had been loaded into his car and hauled home; he was clearly preparing himself for a long period as a shut-in.

In this world without people—or rather, with only ten thousand people—even if he did nothing, the material resources of the city would be enough to last him several lifetimes.

The internet, electricity, and water all continued to function as usual. Even if no one maintained them, Li Gang believed they’d last at least several months, perhaps much longer, since five or six years ago the city’s infrastructure had already become fully automated.

He searched the internet for “ten years ago” and “divine decree,” but found nothing—hardly surprising, as all such information had been officially suppressed.

Li Gang wasn’t disheartened. He knew that this year marked the tenth anniversary, and he’d occasionally heard rumors of obscure websites where some people still discussed the event.

Sure enough, with patience, he found such a website. Its front page was a glaring red, featuring an apocalyptic countdown for all humanity, and beneath it were many user comments.

The countdown had reached “1”—indicating that today was the anniversary of that fateful day ten years ago.

“Oh my god, the ten-year mark is almost here. I wonder if we’ll really disappear? Haha, I’m so nervous!” read one comment, followed by a smiley face—clearly, the poster didn’t truly believe they’d be erased, nor that all of humanity would vanish.

“What are you afraid of? Even if we really do disappear, it’s not just you,” came a reply.

Some users wrote detailed recollections of the events from back then.

Li Gang patiently read through the comments, gradually forming a clearer understanding of the so-called divine decree from a decade prior.

Because it was the day of the ten-year anniversary, the small website was unusually lively, with over ten thousand users online at once.

Li Gang noticed that the comments came in rapid succession, with all timestamps before noon today; not a single comment was posted after that.

This meant that everyone active on the site that day had disappeared almost simultaneously at noon, causing the comment section to abruptly fall silent.

Li Gang wasn’t in a hurry to leave the website. He carefully combed through the information, reading nearly a thousand comments before finally taking his hand off the mouse.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his temples, then picked up a bottle of yogurt and took a few sips, gathering his thoughts.

He had already accepted the reality of the situation and was slowly growing accustomed to the silence of this new world.

He murmured, “At least several thousand people posted on this site today. People from all over Huaxia participated, and the discussion stopped at the same moment. It seems the situation is the same everywhere, just as it is in this county-level city—a city emptied of its people.”

“Moreover, the divine decree mentioned that ten thousand would remain. I’m probably not the only lucky one.”

With this realization, excitement surged within him.

The world wasn’t empty; there must be 9,999 other survivors who had not been erased.

He was not alone—he was not truly solitary!

Unconsciously, Li Gang had come to accept the existence of God.

He believed that only a deity could have such power, causing nearly everyone in the world to disappear at the same instant.

Gradually, the excitement in his heart faded. The world—or rather, the earth—was a vast place, a fact he understood well.

After all, he’d gone to university, even if it was an ordinary one.

With ten thousand people scattered across the globe, the chances of meeting another were vanishingly small.