Raging waves rolled across the sea as fierce winds, torrential rain, lightning, and thunder turned everything into a scene from the apocalypse.
A warship drifted over the surface, swallowed by the waves one moment and hurled high into the air by the surging swells the next.
Pan Jianguo sat inside the ship's cabin, gripping the handle beside him with both hands, teeth clenched as he desperately tried not to be thrown away.
Above deck, heavily armed soldiers wore tense expressions. Even before the might of nature, they could only struggle to keep their footing and avoid being flung into the sea.
Cold, hunger, exhaustion, and the fear of death—every bit of it was one hundred percent real, far beyond Pan Jianguo's imagination.
As one of the world's foremost physicists, Pan Jianguo had once heard news of the "Real Doomsday Game" from a colleague during a late-night drinking session.
At the time, he had taken it for nothing more than drunken rambling and had not believed a word of it.
After all, if such a massive mysterious organization truly existed, everyone would have known about it long ago.
Besides, this Salvation Army sounded like the same sort of thing as the Priory of Sion and secret histories of the Rothschild family—tabloid nonsense.
But when that blood-red eye icon lit up on Pan Jianguo's phone last night, everything changed!
At first, Pan Jianguo had assumed it was some kind of prank, or perhaps espionage by an enemy nation.
After all, the knowledge possessed by a physicist of his caliber was priceless to any country. He himself could be considered a form of national asset.
He had initially wanted to delete the icon, but the app immediately presented him with information he simply could not refuse.
It was a formula. A physics formula.