The Plague of Extinction was a far more terrifying prospect than the Great Deluge. That much was undeniable.

At least the Deluge was visible. The Plague, though, that was an invisible killer. The feed had shown it as a yellowish fog, but humans couldn't just stop breathing, eating, or sleeping. There would always be a moment of vulnerability, a lapse in defenses.

It was insidious. Unpredictable.

Tessia Thorne and Eight Lop had seen the feed too. Their faces were a mask of fear and anxiety. The images of the Plague had clearly shaken them.

"Alright," Thomas Smyth said, his voice firm, cutting through the tension. "We have time. Twenty-four days from tomorrow. That's enough to prepare."

He turned to Eight Lop, his expression hardening. "Eight, your task is critical. You need to focus all your efforts on cultivating the [Breathing Pothos]. It's our best shot at surviving this Plague."

"You saw the feed. The Plague will infiltrate the hideout through the ventilation system. The [Breathing Pothos]'s air purification ability is the only thing that will allow us to keep living in here."

Eight Lop nodded, his usual playful demeanor replaced by solemn determination. "Don't worry, Mr. Smyth. I'll take good care of it!"

Thomas Smyth nodded, then turned to Tessia Thorne.

"Tessia, your mission is just as crucial. The priority is still acquiring any books or helpful items related to free diving. That's absolutely vital, top priority!"

"Secondly, start acquiring supplies to counter the Plague of Extinction. Here are a few leads: first, any kind of gas masks or respirators—portable, lightweight, individual breathing systems or their blueprints. They won't guarantee long-term survival or immunity, but they're the best option for short-term emergencies. We can craft gas masks in the bathroom, but we need to gather materials like filter cartridges."

"Also, look for full-body hazmat suits, like the ones in the feed. They might be rare, but it's worth a try. We can trade hideout blueprints strategically. If you find a blueprint for a virus decontamination facility, acquire it immediately."

"Prioritize rare formulas, especially for medicine and food. My gut tells me the Apocalypse Game always provides a way to survive. There might be a formula, like the [Nourishing Mutton Stew], that offers a solution."

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Thomas Smyth rattled off his instructions, Tessia Thorne diligently taking notes. "Most importantly, be discreet. We don't want to alert anyone to our preparations."

Tessia Thorne looked up. "Mr. Smyth, starting yesterday, there's been a surge in demand for flood-related supplies on the [Flea Market]. They're trying to be subtle, but their patterns are easy to spot."

Thomas Smyth nodded. He'd anticipated this, especially after sharing the information with Ben Walker and Howie Wang, and knowing Ben had informed the Rangers. He was surprised the news of the flood hadn't spread further.

"Let them stockpile flood supplies. We'll focus on Plague countermeasures. If necessary, we can leak the flood information to distract everyone while we acquire what we need."

"You manage the specifics. I'm just providing the direction."

Tessia Thorne nodded. "Just let me know before you release the flood information, so I can adjust our strategy."

"Of course."

With the acquisition plan in place, Thomas Smyth felt a wave of relief. He trusted Tessia Thorne to handle the preparations.

"What's in that suitcase, though?" He recalled the red glow emanating from the suitcase in the feed. Its contents were undoubtedly valuable. The plant was likely a Calamity Artifact, similar to the Glacial Lotuses, possessing plague-resistant properties.

A thought struck him. He called Eight Lop over and handed him a wooden box containing the seed he'd received with the Glacial Lotuses. He'd used the lotuses themselves to craft the [Oceanborn] gene evolution potion. He wondered if the seed could be cultivated.

"Eight, this seed is precious. See if you can grow it. Don't let it come into contact with any unnatural substances."

Eight Lop accepted the box with a serious nod. "Yes, Mr. Smyth."

Thomas Smyth turned back to the computer. "Retrieve today's random intel."

[Tomorrow at 3:40 PM, Ghostface will attack survivors returning from the reserve depot near the Sparrow City Energy Center.]

"Ghostface, huh? Interesting. This survivor must be important to warrant his attention..." Thomas Smyth trailed off, his mind racing.

"The reserve depot… survivors…" He recalled his conversation with Ben Walker.

[Ben Walker: The Rangers are contacting the Revolutionaries. I might be away for a while.]

[Ben Walker: The Revolutionaries are a faction opposed to the rebels. They have a base at the reserve station outside the city. I'm part of the team making contact.]

"Holy shit..." Thomas Smyth narrowed his eyes. "No way it's that much of a coincidence."

His mind churned. He could easily confirm if the targeted survivors were Ben Walker and the Rangers. What truly concerned him was why Ghostface would attack them, and how he knew their route. Ghostface wouldn't bother with ordinary survivors.

Based on the notebook, Ghostface was likely controlled or influenced by an unknown entity. His current obsession was acquiring items related to the CBS Laboratories. Perhaps the Rangers were trading something valuable with the Revolutionaries, something Ghostface desperately needed. Survivors were easier targets than the Revolutionaries, after all.

But how did he know their itinerary?