Urban Powers After the Apocalypse

Turning on the desk lamp, Xu Mo saw a few covered bowls neatly arranged on the desk. As his fingers touched them, he could still feel the lingering warmth. A note was pinned down beside them by a pair of chopsticks.

"Xiao Mo,

I don't know if you'll be back tonight. I wanted to call you, but your father wouldn't let me. I'm not sure what you've been up to these past two days, but I trust that you know your limits. You'll be eighteen soon—an adult. Your father and I won't say much more. The pressure of senior year is immense, so please take care of yourself.

—Mom"

Xu Mo let out a wry smile at the note. His consecutive late returns over the past two days had clearly led to some misunderstandings. It was understandable—every year around this time, there were always news reports about students who couldn't bear the pressure of the college entrance exam and ended their lives. Jumping from buildings, throwing themselves in front of trains, overdosing—each case more tragic than the last. Parents of students were constantly on edge, terrified that a single misplaced word could push their child over the edge.

But this misunderstanding was also convenient—at least he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse for coming home late. After all, after nearly twenty years of raising him, his parents would easily see through any lie he concocted.

After carefully hiding his bloodstained clothes, Xu Mo uncovered the dishes that had been kept warm for him. Normally, he loved sweet and sour ribs, but tonight, they inexplicably made him nauseous. He forced down a few mouthfuls of rice before turning off the lamp and lying down on his single bed.

The past two days had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. Xu Mo longed to sleep and forget everything, but the moment he closed his eyes, his mind was flooded with the horrifying scenes from the abandoned factory—corpses littering the ground, the bloodstained faces of the people he had killed: Black Wolf, Monkey, and others, all glaring at him with twisted expressions, seeking revenge.

Drenched in cold sweat, Xu Mo bolted upright and turned the lamp back on. The bright light helped dispel some of his fear. To distract himself, he took out the two Doomsday Fragments—one red and one blue—and examined them under the glow of the lamp.

Despite both being Doomsday Fragments, they had noticeable differences. The red one was less transparent, resembling a piece of jade, while the blue one was crystal clear, almost like a gemstone, with an enchanting violet glow swirling within.

He still didn't fully understand their mysteries, but the Doomsday Fragments were undoubtedly extraordinary. They granted people abilities that seemed to belong only in novels and comics and could even materialize modern firearms like a pistol. And it was clear that their potential extended far beyond that.

The most mysterious aspect was their sudden emergence on December 21—the very day of the prophesied apocalypse. Was the appearance of the Doomsday Fragments somehow tied to the doomsday prediction?

Xu Mo had imagined countless doomsday scenarios before—earthquakes, planetary collisions, biochemical viruses, even alien invasions. But what was unfolding before him was far beyond his comprehension.

Still, whether or not the fragments heralded the end of the world was of little concern to Xu Mo. If it weren't for his accidental fusion with one, he would already be dead.

What worried him more was whether the Doomsday Fragments carried unforeseen side effects beyond granting special abilities. This uncertainty was why he had hesitated to fuse with the two new fragments he had obtained.

Perhaps it was the recent events making him feel insecure, or perhaps the lure of power was too strong to resist. After much deliberation, Xu Mo finally gave in to temptation. He took out a pair of scissors, made a small cut on his left arm, and pressed the blue Doomsday Fragment against the bleeding wound.

The fusion proceeded without a hitch. But just as Xu Mo closed his eyes, ready to activate the fragment with his consciousness, a massive, flame-wreathed ghostly face suddenly appeared in his mind. The unexpected vision startled him so much that he nearly fell over.

What was that?

Though the image had seemed incredibly vivid in that instant, once he withdrew from the fragment's space, he found himself unable to recall it clearly. In fact, he wasn't even sure if it had truly appeared.

But the Doomsday Fragments were inexplicable by nature. Having experienced multiple fusions already, Xu Mo had become somewhat accustomed to their mysteries. After a brief hesitation, he closed his eyes again and re-entered the fragment's space.

This time, no anomalies occurred. When he withdrew from the fragment's space, a hand covered in red armor appeared before him, its back emitting a faint blue-white flame—the very same "Demon Hand" that Black Wolf had once wielded. Apart from being slightly smaller, it looked identical.

Though not the first time he had seen it, Xu Mo had to admit that Black Wolf's "Demon Hand" was visually stunning—a perfect fusion of religious mysticism and primal savagery, making it irresistibly captivating.

He clenched his fist and swung it a few times, watching as the blue flames left a dazzling trail in the air. However, he noticed no increase in strength. It seemed the "Demon Hand" only provided extraordinary defense.

If that were the case, then Black Wolf's monstrous strength likely came from the red Doomsday Fragment.

With this in mind, Xu Mo immediately prepared to fuse the red fragment, hoping to gain the same power. But then he noticed something strange—his wound from fusing the blue fragment was still bleeding. The cut showed no sign of healing.

Huh? Could it be that only previously unfused Doomsday Fragments retained their miraculous healing effect?

This discovery surprised him. Fortunately, the wound was only about a centimeter long; otherwise, he might have needed stitches.

Though both were Doomsday Fragments, their activation experiences were vastly different. Xu Mo lay on his bed, panting as he processed the overwhelming sensation he had just experienced. Unlike the searing pain from the cyan fragment, the red fragment's fusion felt almost euphoric—so addictive it was almost like a drug.

After changing into fresh underwear, Xu Mo was eager to test the abilities granted by the red Doomsday Fragment. Though he could tell his body felt different, he couldn't pinpoint what ability he had gained. However, it was definitely not an increase in strength. It seemed Black Wolf hadn't lied—the Doomsday Fragments truly randomized their abilities upon fusion.

In less than two days, Xu Mo had miraculously acquired four Doomsday Fragments, each holding different powers. The realization made him both anxious and thrilled. Deep inside, he felt an insatiable desire to collect more.

Men are always obsessed with power.

Meanwhile, another person was destined to have a sleepless night—the leader of the Southern City Gang, Luo Zhiyang.

"Old Bastard! Tell me, what the hell happened? What kind of person did you bring back? We lost six brothers—six! Even Black Wolf didn't make it out alive!"

Glaring at the corpses brought back from the abandoned factory, Luo Zhiyang was seething with rage. While casualties were inevitable in their line of work, this was the first time the gang had suffered such devastating losses—even during their war with the Northern Dao Gang, they had only lost one man. And among the dead was his trusted enforcer, Black Wolf.

The man called Old Bastard trembled as he prostrated himself on the ground, his voice quivering, "Boss, I... I don't know what happened! That kid—Monkey picked him up by accident on the street. We searched him—he had nothing but a phone and a school bag. I don't know how he suddenly pulled out a gun! The others didn't even have a chance to escape. If I hadn't been on the second floor keeping watch, I'd be down there with them…"