Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 20: The end of everything (4)

The system finally responded, its voice devoid of any emotion.

[If the task is not completed within the time frame, all system functions will cease indefinitely.]

Qingran stiffened.

It wasn’t just refusing to help—it was threatening her.

If she failed this mission, the system would shut down. No more notifications. No more advantages. No more second chances.

She would be on her own.

Her mind raced.

The past lab archive—she had never heard of it. Was it related to the virus? Or that "thing" roaming around? Was it related to the government? Would it give her the answers she was looking for?

She had so many questions and the system was treating it as critical.

That meant one thing.

There was something inside that archive.

Something dangerous.

Something that the system itself was desperate to recover.

Qingran exhaled slowly, forcing her emotions into check. "Where is it?"

The system hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding.

[Unknown. Coordinates must be located manually.]

A humorless laugh nearly escaped her lips. Of course. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

"Lingquan, you have to give me a goddamn clue or something," she snarled, her voice a harsh whisper in her mind. "Don’t fucking throw me into an open fire like that!"

The system remained silent.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs.

Then, at last—

[Ding! System Override Initiated.]

A sharp, static-filled crackle echoed in her mind, followed by a voice that wasn’t the usual cold, mechanical monotone.

It was distorted, lower, almost even human.

[You shouldn’t have asked, Qingran.]

Her breath hitched.

The system had never called her by name before.

A shiver ran down her spine, but she gritted her teeth. "I don’t have time for cryptic bullshit, Lingquan. If you want me to find this damn archive, give me something to work with!"

Silence.

Then—

[Xi’an.]

Qingran’s mind blanked for a second.

"Xi’an?" she echoed, frowning.

Why did that name—

And then, it hit her.

The capital city. That was the archive location? That place of all places?

In her past life, Xi’an had been one of the first major cities to collapse when the apocalypse spread. It had been reduced to nothing but a wasteland within days.

Her fingers curled into fists, each task was bringing her back to places she didn’t want to tread again.

"The archive is in Xi’an, isn’t it?" she muttered.

The system hesitated.

Then, it said one last time before going quiet

[72 hours, Qingran. If you fail, I disappear.]

Qingran exhaled sharply forcing herself to stay calm.

"I’m leaving," she said, turning toward the door.

Dr. Han stiffened. "What?"

"The virus is still in containment. Your own security logs confirm it. There was no breach, no unauthorized access. Whatever that was—" she gestured at the frozen security footage of the shifting, unidentifiable shape inside the chamber, "—it has nothing to do with me."

Director Li’s gaze sharpened. "Dr. Gu, this is an active investigation. You can’t just walk away."

Qingran let out a quiet laugh, cold and devoid of amusement. "Then detain me."

Silence fell over the room.

They couldn’t.

There was no evidence against her. The virus was exactly where it had always been. If they tried to hold her now, it would be an unlawful detainment, and they all knew it.

She let the tension hang in the air for a moment before turning back toward the exit.

No one moved to stop her.

But she could feel their eyes on her, their suspicion heavy in the air.

They were afraid.

And if they were afraid of her, it meant one thing—

Something far worse than the virus had just awakened.

The ride back to the research facility was tense, but no one stopped her. No one even questioned her further. They only had her sign the confidentiality agreement—a standard warning to keep her mouth shut. Not that she needed the reminder. Whatever was happening inside Lab 37 was bigger than just her, and they knew it too.

As soon as she was let go, she walked straight to her car, gripping the wheel as soon as she slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t drive home. Instead, she followed the route ingrained in her memory, letting instinct take over until she reached the only place where she could think.

A small viewpoint just outside the city. Quiet. Isolated. A place she had claimed as her own long before the apocalypse ever happened.

She parked, turned off the engine, and leaned back against the seat, forcing herself to breathe.

Everything was unraveling faster than she expected.

She knew the world was ending in 23 days. She had accepted that. She had prepared for that. But what she hadn’t accounted for was this—an anomaly she had never encountered before.

Her virus had not been touched. It was still inside Lab 37, secured within its containment unit. That was a fact.

So then what the hell had they seen on the security footage?

What was the thing that had flickered in and out of existence?

And more importantly... why had the system gone silent the moment she asked for answers?

Qingran gritted her teeth, pressing her palms against her face.

She had survived the apocalypse once. She had lived through hell and clawed her way back, only to find herself standing at the edge of it once again.

She wasn’t trying to stop it. She never had.

But if something had changed—if something was evolving beyond her knowledge—then she needed to figure out where she stood in all of this.

Because surviving wasn’t just about preparation.

It was about knowing the rules of the game.

And right now, something was telling her that the rules had just changed.

Qingran exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t have time for cryptic warnings. She needed answers. Now.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus inward.

"Lingquan."

Silence.

"Lingquan, don’t play dead on me."

More silence.

Her patience snapped.

"Lingquan, you f**king a$$hole."

The system remained quiet for a moment longer—long enough that she almost thought it wouldn’t answer at all. Then, finally, a dull chime echoed in her mind.

[System Online.]

Qingran’s nails dug into her palm.

Now you respond?

She inhaled sharply, pushing down her irritation. "Status report. What’s my balance? How much time do I have left before the apocalypse? How far have I gotten in stockpiling?"

A brief pause. Then—

[Balance: 1.3 million yuan.]

[Countdown: 23 Days Remaining.]

[Stockpiling Progress: 67%.]

Her eyes narrowed. That was lower than she wanted. She had assumed she was at least past 70%.

Then again she hasn’t gotten any medical equipments, once she got those she would more than done with stockpiling.

"Explain why you refused to talk to me earlier," she demanded. "And don’t tell me it was a system error."

Another pause. Qingran tapped against the steering wheel waiting for answers.

[Task issued was categorized as High-Risk. The system does not interfere during High-Risk assignments unless intervention is deemed necessary.]

Qingran scowled. "So you throw me into a life-threatening situation and decide to just shut up?"

[The task was within host’s capabilities.]

"Oh, really? Because last I checked, you handed me a mission with zero context, then went radio silent while I was being interrogated by government officials."

[Host successfully completed the task. Did you not?.]

Qingran let out a humorless laugh. "Barely."

[Ding! But you did it anyways]

Her pulse was still uneven, adrenaline still thrumming under her skin. She could have been detained, interrogated further—hell, she could have been accused of being the one who had created that unknown variable.

And what had Lingquan done?

Nothing. She guessed it wasn’t the system’s job to help 24/7.

She forced herself to refocus. "Fine. Then tell me—why the hell did you give me such a dangerous task?"

A beat of silence. Then—

[Because the anomaly was never meant to exist.]

Qingran’s breath hitched. "What?"

[The anomaly is not recorded in the original timeline. It is an external variable.]

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Meaning?"

[Meaning something has changed.]

Qingran sat completely still, processing.

She had known something was wrong. Had felt it the moment she saw that security footage.

But if the system itself was telling her that the anomaly wasn’t supposed to exist—

Then that meant this wasn’t just a deviation.

This was a completely new factor.

Something that hadn’t been there before.

Something she had never encountered in her past life.

She swallowed hard. "And what exactly am I supposed to do about it?"

[New Mission Available.]

A chime. Then a new notification appeared.

[Task: Investigate the Anomaly.]

[Reward: ???]

[Penalty for Failure: Unknown.]