On September 6 of the first year of the Doomsday Calendar, it had been 249 days since humanity crossed into the wasteland.
The arrival of the Thousand Illusions Mist had finally slowed the pace of disasters. They were no longer pressing forward step by step as they had before.
Humanity finally had a chance to catch its breath and began building one small Gathering Place after another across the enlarged New Continent.
In the World Channel.
Every day, people shared the changes taking place in their respective Gathering Places.
Some had opened up farmland, planted crops, and were waiting for harvest season.
Some had built several structures, giving themselves a place to settle and make a living in this unfamiliar wasteland.
Some had found partners and were no longer alone, gaining something to strive toward for a better tomorrow.
Some had discovered treasures, seized opportunities, and found an excellent chance to grow stronger.
After surviving the most difficult initial period, humanity's adaptability was frightening.
Compared to the dull, rigid life on Earth, life in the wasteland was clearly much more exciting.
Seeing this, some players far overseas immediately stopped waiting around to develop further.
Relying on small boats, wave after wave of people landed along the coastline and scattered on foot across the New Continent.
Along the way.
The appearance of the natives became the best tool for easing the conflicts between humans and the alien races.
Quite a few humans had already discovered native cities or Gathering Places.
Although they could not communicate fully because of the language barrier, their actions already showed an intention to band together for warmth.
After all, compared to the bizarre alien races, even though these natives came from the Blue Star, they were still humans with the same genes. They naturally inspired a