yellowbook

The apocalypse is not the end — it is a game. And only the elect can play along.

Every week, a few chosen ones are placed in a twisted mirror of reality — a world on the brink of annihilation. Here, players must survive a new cataclysmic disaster, armed with only one randomly selected ability.

Ethan Cross never asked to be a player. But when he is drawn into the Apocalypse Game, his first draw changes everything:

"the Eye of Death" - an SSS-ranked ability that shows him visions of his own death.

While others fight blindly, Ethan outwits fate itself and replays his own demise until he finds the perfect path to victory.

"Congratulations! You have overcome the disaster of [Puppet Kingdom] and obtained the [Severing Seven]: [The Severing Seven]!"

"Congratulations! You've eliminated the threat of [Abyssal Horror] and received [S-Rank Ability: [Abyssal Horror]: [S-Rank Skill: Scales of Judgment]!"

"Congratulations! You have shattered the paradox of [Time Reversal] and unlocked the [SSS Rank Skill: Sword of Destruction]: [SSS Rank Skill: Sword of Annihilation]!"

Other players: "Bro, we’re still learning the rules, how can you clear dungeons already?"

Apocalypse Control Bureau: "Mr. Cross, your survival is crucial to the future of humanity! STOP THROWING YOURSELF INTO DANGER!"

Reality Hacker: Apocalypse Loop

The steaming clay pot of chicken soup between them smelled just as Ethan remembered: ginger, goji berries, and the rich aroma of free-range poultry. Ms. Ye ladled a generous portion into his bowl, showing the same maternal care she'd had when she corrected his English essays years ago.

"Eat up," she urged. "You're too thin."

His phone buzzed sharply. A notification from Elder Chang's verified account appeared:

"Listen. Listen to their heartbeats."

Ethan's spoon stopped halfway to his lips. Right on schedule.

The first sip of broth was interrupted by the roar of diesel engines. Through the restaurant's fogged windows, six armored vehicles screeched to a halt outside.

Men in tactical gear flooded the street, quickly cordoning off the area. A sharply dressed operative entered, his polished Oxfords clicking against the tile floor as he headed straight for their table.

"Mr. Ethan." The man bowed slightly. "Your presence is requested."

Ms. Ye's chopsticks clattered onto her plate. Every diner stared as two dozen armed personnel formed a perimeter around their booth.

Ethan dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "Took you long enough to verify."

He shrugged at Ms. Ye's stunned expression. "Rain check on that meal?"

The briefing room's holographic map displayed China's coastline glowing red. Analyst Li adjusted his glasses as Ethan pointed to projected casualty estimates.

"Catastrophe-class is certain." Ethan's finger traced inland from Shanghai to Wuhan. "Five hours for leviathans to cover 800 kilometers? That's not migration; it's eradication."

The analyst's stylus hovered over mortality projections: 99.9%.

"Your survival strategy?" Li asked tightly.

Ethan activated the Qiankun Pouch and took out the Terminus Shard. Its obsidian edge caught the light.

"The ocean's vast. We find the gaps between their patrol routes."

A silence settled over the room. On the wall screen, Elder Chang's prophecy flickered like a grim heartbeat:

Listen. Listen. Listen.