At this moment, he finally realized that his wallet and phone were gone, and even his clothes had been swapped for a blue jacket that looked like it had been picked up from who knows where.

Finding a small puddle, he lowered his head under the moonlight to take a look—good grief, not only had his outfit changed, but even his head was different!

He had no idea which lunatic had knocked him out, changed his face, and dumped him in this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere.

While Brian Carter was wandering helplessly across the wilderness, a wisp of smoke rising in the distance caught his attention.

Looking back now, Brian Carter still felt a bit scared.

At the time, all he could think about was calling the police, so he ran desperately toward that sign of human life. In hindsight, he was lucky to have stumbled upon a legitimate survivor settlement.

If it had been those ruthless raiders, or cannibals, or some mutant tribe, he’d probably already be stewing in a pot.

Maybe even his leather shoes would be cooked by now!

After interacting with the survivors living here, Brian Carter pieced together enough clues to realize that this was no longer Huaguo, and not even the Earth he once knew!

In this parallel world, a war two hundred years ago had destroyed all the achievements of civilization, leaving behind only a devastated wasteland and survivors struggling to eke out an existence.

And now, it was the year 2340.

It was also the 211th year since the beginning of the Wasteland Era of human civilization in early 2129!

Confused.

Shocked.

Indescribable fear.

Fortunately, Brian Carter was fairly adaptable. After surviving those first days, he gradually began to adjust to life here.

He struggled to survive on the wasteland for five months, never knowing where his next meal would come from, constantly having to outwit mutated creatures and hostile raiders.

Just when Brian Carter pessimistically thought this was how the rest of his life would be, everything changed a few hours ago.

In the ruins of an abandoned sanatorium, he discovered the entrance to Shelter No. 404.

To be precise, it wasn’t Brian Carter who found it, but rather this facility called “Shelter 404” that found Brian Carter.

A voice sounded in his mind, guiding him here.

And it was only when Brian Carter approached the sanatorium that he suddenly realized—this was the very place where he’d first woken up in this world!

If he hadn’t wandered off back then, or if it had been a little brighter, he might have found this place right away!

In any case, the “cheat” that was five months late had finally arrived.

At the same time, a brand new job was laid out before him.

It was as if this shelter had been prepared just for him, waiting for a long time.

From the moment he stepped through the shelter’s doors, his identity changed from a scavenger to the sole resident and administrator of Shelter 404.

And his job was just one thing.

That was to use the internet from Earth to guide—or rather, lure—a group of beings called “players” to this world to work for him.

Yes, the black technology in this shelter could not only connect to the internet of a parallel Earth, but even had its own “official website”!

Players who reserved the game would automatically receive a number and be registered in the administrator system’s [Shelter Resident Directory].

As the administrator, Brian Carter could choose specific numbers to grant “game access.”

The system would, through some special means, deliver a game helmet to the player. All the player had to do was put on the helmet, and they could connect to the shelter’s incubation pod and awaken as a clone.

Very user-friendly.

And very convenient!

Although there were no penalties for refusing to work, the rewards for completing tasks were something Brian Carter simply couldn’t refuse.

For example, that bulletproof vest.

After struggling to survive on the wasteland for five months, he knew all too well how important something that could save your life was.

Besides that, the points earned from task rewards were also valuable—they could be exchanged for “blind boxes” on the [Administrator Allowance] page.

A basic blind box cost 1 point, an intermediate one 10 points, and an advanced one 100 points.

According to the “Shelter 404 Administrator System’s” explanation of the [Administrator Allowance] function, the items and quantities from blind boxes were random, but you’d always get something—there was no such thing as “Thank you for participating.”

The level of the blind box determined the minimum guaranteed reward.

For example, the basic blind box would at least give you food supplies, the intermediate one guaranteed medicine, and the advanced one could yield weapons.

As for whether a basic blind box could give out intermediate-level prizes, the system didn’t specify, but even if it could, the odds were probably extremely low.

While Brian Carter was pondering whether to use his 5 points to open five basic blind boxes or save up 100 points for a weapon, the “wastepaper basket” squatting in the corner spoke up again.

“Master, a new task has been updated in your administrator log. Please check it in a timely manner.”

“Got it,” Brian Carter replied impatiently.

Damn it.

Who’s the master here, anyway!