With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

The night in Dacheng Mountain was unbearably stuffy.

The daytime heat hadn't dissipated, and even at midnight there wasn't a breath of wind. The air felt sticky and clinging to the skin, as if covered by a damp cloth. At this hour, every household would have already turned off their lights, and only the barking of dogs and the chirping of cicadas could be heard in the alley.

But tonight is different.

The eighteen open-air plazas were brightly lit.

The stage was a makeshift structure made of wooden planks and iron frames, decorated with red silk and colorful flags, and slogans in black and white were pasted on a curtain held up by two bamboo poles.

The news was posted in the afternoon, and it spread like wildfire. By evening, the whole city was in an uproar.

"Did you hear? There's a traditional opera performance in the square tonight! All night long!"

"Really? We've never done anything like this before."

"The Red Lantern! And Shajiabang! I love listening to Shajiabang the most!"

"Mom, Mom! I want to go too! Xiaoming and his whole family from next door went!"

By 8 p.m., all eighteen squares were packed with people.

People brought their own stools, carried small stools, carried mats, or sat down on the ground without bringing anything—young and old, men and women, filled the square completely.

The children were the most excited. They squeezed and weaved through the crowd, chasing each other, their laughter and shouts mingling together.

The stage lights made the actors' faces glow red, and every time they sang something exciting, there was a burst of cheers and applause from below, like firecrackers going off during the New Year.

Jiang Zhiyu stood under an old willow tree on the outskirts of the square, watching from afar.

She couldn't squeeze in.

It's so lively!

She glanced at her watch—9:40.

There are still more than five hours left.

-

At 10:30, the first program finished, and the host came on stage to announce the program, his voice broadcast throughout the entire square through loudspeakers.

"Comrades! The performance is temporarily suspended! Next up is the interactive segment! A quiz on revolutionary knowledge with prizes—those who answer correctly will receive prizes on the spot! Towels, soap, enamel mugs, and more are all available!"

A commotion immediately broke out in the square.

"There are prizes too?"

"What kind of question? Is it difficult?"

"I know! I know! I learned it at work!"

Hands shot up, like a forest. The host called on an older woman in blue overalls. She answered a question in a loud voice, got it right, and a staff member immediately handed her a new towel. The woman beamed with joy, waving the towel at the neighbors, eliciting laughter from below.

The quiz lasted for almost an hour, with prizes being awarded round after round, keeping everyone's enthusiasm high and no one wanting to leave.

Immediately afterwards, a white curtain was pulled up next to the stage.

"Open-air cinema! 'Tunnel Warfare'! Comrades, hold on tight—the show is about to begin!"

Cheers erupted.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at her watch—11:50.

People's attention was entirely on the movie; the cicadas on the old willow tree by the square had all fallen silent at some point.

One o'clock in the morning.

The second movie has finished showing.

The host came back on stage: "Comrades! The second half of the show continues! Shajiabang, Act Two—is about to begin!"

Another round of cheers erupted from the square.

The applause chased away their drowsiness, and people perked up and sat up straight.

Two o'clock in the morning.

Jiang Zhiyu's hands clenched slightly.

There's one hour left.

2:40 a.m.

Suddenly, Seventeen spoke in Jiang Zhiyu's mind.

"Host, underground energy is rising rapidly. Crustal stress is approaching a critical value—"

Before she could finish speaking, Jiang Zhiyu felt the ground beneath her feet tremble slightly.

It was very light, as light as a heavy truck driving by in the distance.

But her pupils suddenly contracted.

No one in the square noticed. The drums were beating, the performers were doing somersaults on stage, and the cheers from below were deafening, completely drowning out that faint tremor.

2:50 a.m.

It trembled again. A little more than before.

This time, someone noticed.

"Huh? Why did the ground shake?"

You stepped on my foot—

"No, I felt it too..."

"It's probably just a passing train. Never mind, let's watch the show."

The discussion was quickly drowned out by the singing on stage.

2:55 a.m.

The ground trembled for the third time.

This time, no one can ignore it.

The stone bricks in the square creaked and groaned underfoot, as if something had turned over underground. The light bulbs on the stage flickered twice, and the curtain moved without any wind.

"What happened?"

"An earthquake?"

"Don't talk nonsense! There was no earthquake—"

Before he could finish speaking...

It was exactly 3:00 AM.

The earthquake trembled.

It wasn't shaking, it was trembling. It was an overwhelming, irresistible force emanating from beneath the earth, like a gigantic hand slamming down from the depths of the earth's crust—

"boom--!!!"

That deafening roar didn't come from the sky, but from beneath our feet. It sounded like the earth's crust being torn apart, or like a thousand horses galloping through the ground. Deep, resonant, it made our very insides tremble.

Then--

All the lights in the city went out.

In an instant, the entire Dacheng Mountain was plunged into darkness.

Only a strange red light shone on the horizon, as if something was burning underground and its light shone through the cracks into the sky.

Then came the sound.

It's not one sound, but countless sounds layered together.

The people in the square were terrified.

They looked back in the direction of their home—where the windows that had once been lit were now pitch black.

The rising dust obscured the sky, and a pungent, earthy smell filled the air.

"Home! My home!"

"Mom! My mom's still at home!"

"Go back quickly—go back quickly to save them—"

The crowd began to stir, and some people rushed towards the outside of the square, only to be held back tightly by those around them.

"We can't go back! The earthquake is still raging! The houses are still collapsing!"

"Let me go! My mom's still inside—"

Cries, arguments, and the sound of collapses were all mixed together, creating complete chaos.

The earth was still shaking.

People in the square crouched on the ground, trembling and covering their heads. Children cried their hearts out, women hugged their families and kept calling their names, and men clenched their fists, their eyes red as they looked toward the city in the darkness, but they couldn't take a single step.

Jiang Zhiyu stood still, without moving.

Looking at all this, only one thought occupied her mind—

coming.

We collected so many supplies just for this moment.

It wasn't to see this disaster.

It's so that more people can survive after the disaster.

Jiang Zhiyu took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and turned to run towards the command post.

She had no time to be sad.

Because what follows is the real battle.