Can Shamelessness Reach Such Heights?

As soon as Mike opened the city chat channel, he was greeted by a flood of messages cascading down like a relentless waterfall.

The previously dead-silent Nanjing City chat, where few ever spoke, now seemed completely transformed. Survivors who had been quiet for weeks suddenly emerged, filling the channel with chatter. Mike noticed many unfamiliar shelter names that he'd never seen before.

Stronghold of Wang Qiang the Mighty: "A Special Operations Commander? Damn it! Finally! National rescue has arrived! There's hope for the people!"

Shelter of Fierce Boss: "I told you! As long as humanity isn't extinct, there'd always be those brave enough to step up! This is what advanced systems and national resilience look like! Haha, just wait for the rescue team to show up!"

I Really Want to Live Shelter: "Guys, my upstairs neighbor just started singing the national anthem—while chopping at man-eating fungi! I thought he was dead because he hadn't made a sound in days."

I'm a Reborn Survivor Shelter: "Wait, are you guys seriously not seeing the real issue here? There's no mention of the Nanjing Commander in the handbook! Our commander didn't name his shelter! How are we supposed to contact him?"

Mass Food Collector Shelter: "What's the rush? A commander is someone appointed by the higher-ups. He'll contact us himself. Haven't we been through enough disasters? Just wait for the rescue and cooperate!"

The channel was ablaze with discussions about the commander system, and there was only one burning question on every survivor's mind: Who is Nanjing's commander, and where is he?

Mike exhaled, overwhelmed. "There are so many people," he muttered.

It was the first time he'd truly realized just how many survivors Nanjing had, far exceeding his expectations. He couldn't fathom how this many people had managed to scrape by in these dire conditions. One thing was for certain—when it came to survival in the face of absolute adversity, this nation was unmatched.

As the chat scrolled incessantly with more messages, the survivors became increasingly desperate to find the city's commander. Just as Mike was about to reveal himself for the first time, someone abruptly interjected:

"Wait... Could it be the guy in the city center?"

"Oh, you might be right! I heard his shelter also doesn't have a name!"

"Now that I think about it, with everything he's done—recruiting people under the banner of rescue—it does sound like him."

"It's true! Even though those from the Polar Bear Shelter said he's not doing anything good, I'd rather see for myself. What if he's the real commander?"

"Trust the Polar Bear guys? They're just thugs who kill people for fun! They've got no right to criticize anyone!"

"Stop guessing! Just check the rankings. The real commander wouldn't still be unnamed, right?"

With this reminder, many survivors scrambled to open the rankings. What they found left them stunned.

"Guys, look at the rankings! I found the commander's shelter, but... why are there two shelters with almost the same name?"

Mike quickly scanned the leaderboard.

What he saw made him freeze.

Aside from his own shelter, Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Center, there was now another shelter ranked high on the list: Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Station.

A difference of just one word.

And this "Station" was no small-time player—it ranked consistently in the top three, just behind Mike's shelter.

Mike's expression darkened.

There was no doubt. This was the work of that guy from the city center.

The only two unnamed shelters on the entire leaderboard were his and this man's. The center of the city had always been his rival's domain, something confirmed long ago.

"He's overstepped," Mike muttered, his voice icy.

The timing couldn't have been more deliberate. Mike had only just named his shelter, and in the blink of an eye, his rival had copied him, clearly aiming to confuse people.

"Trying to pull a stunt like this?" Mike laughed coldly. "What's the rush, huh?"

Thanks to Jiang Xiaoci's guidance, Mike had learned to stay calm even in the face of anger. He knew that every action had a motive. This brazen impersonation would almost certainly be exposed—but why would his rival risk doing it anyway?

Mike's mind raced. His rival had to be banking on one last-ditch effort. Perhaps he hoped to deceive even a small portion of the population. In fact, the move might bring him more benefits than risks, or he wouldn't have done something so reckless.

Mike kept his eyes on the chat. Survivors were equally bewildered.

The situation in Nanjing was unlike any other city. Here, there were two shelters that seemed like the commander's—one genuine, the other a fraud.

"This is insane! The apocalypse has turned into a circus! Fake and real commanders—what next?"

"I can't believe it. In the middle of a life-or-death crisis, someone's still shameless enough to impersonate a commander?"

"@Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Center and @Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Station—both of you, step forward! Prove who's real! The handbook says only one of you will have the Mad Guardian soldiers and the Commander's Medal."

The survivors weren't fools. They demanded proof.

Suddenly, a message from the Station shelter appeared in the chat:

Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Station: "I am the Nanjing Commander. The Mad Guardians and the Commander's Medal are in my shelter. Everyone is welcome to inspect!"

Nanjing People's Doomsday Rescue Command Station: "No need for empty words. In these dire times, saving lives comes first! My shelter has ample supplies, and everyone—young or old—is welcome here. Food and safety are guaranteed!"

The rival had made his move. His words were polished, authoritative, and persuasive. To the uninformed, they sounded undeniably convincing.