Chapter 46: The Survivors

Sonia rarely introduced herself with her full name. It was just too long.

Sonia Sergeyevna Ulyanov.

Her grandfather was Ukrainian, while her grandmother and mother were Han Chinese. That made her one-quarter East Slavic and three-quarters Han. The balance was just right, and combined with excellent genes from both sides of the family, she had grown into a young woman whose looks stood out among her peers. She was perfectly aware of how fortunate she was in the looks department and, to some degree, took pride in it.

Her father came from a wealthy business family with a privately owned enterprise. Her mother hailed from an old scholarly household, a family of tradition dating back to the late Qing dynasty. Though battered by the tides of history, her mother’s family still retained a respectable level of affluence. Thanks to this dual heritage, Sonia had led a far more comfortable life than most people her age.

Her mother was the very model of an aristocratic daughter—well-versed in all the expectations for a woman of class, from grace and poise to talent and propriety. Her father, meanwhile, had not inherited his own father’s company; instead, he became an editor for a prestigious academic journal and maintained ties with scholars around the world. He was open-minded, progressive, and eager to embrace new ideas.

Her mother wanted her to grow up into a refined lady like herself: well-read, courteous, elegant, poised, and chaste. Her father, in contrast, hoped she would become a modern woman at the forefront of her generation: sharp, capable, independent, charismatic, and full of conviction. In the end, under both their influences, Sonia became the person she was today.

As her maternal grandfather put it, she was ‘the sum of both their ideals.’

From a young age, Sonia had internalized the values her parents instilled in her. She polished her bearing and inner refinement, honed her talents and abilities, and developed a practiced skill in social grace. She could quote from classics both Eastern and Western, shine on the sports field, get along with every classmate, and still keep an appropriate distance from everyone.

Like her mother, she disliked flashy accessories and gaudy cosmetics. Rather than loud fashion trends, she favored simple, elegant clothes that highlighted a woman’s natural beauty. True beauty came from within: with cultivated taste, solid character, and a good foundation, becoming a recognized beauty would naturally follow. And like her father, she was thoughtful, quick to embrace new things, and keenly analytical of social trends. She never blindly followed the crowd, never echoed others’ opinions without question, and always formed her own judgments. Even when she disliked something, she never made reckless criticisms.

Having been exposed to a wide variety of disciplines, she had an eclectic range of hobbies and skills. She was proficient in guqin, calligraphy, and traditional needlework; she enjoyed classic films and modern music; she excelled at FPS games; and she was well-versed in multiple subcultures. Her favorite sports were swimming and archery—the former for its fitness and body-toning benefits, the latter both a natural gift and something she picked up from her father. She had even placed in national-level archery competitions.

“Sonia really doesn’t have any flaws,” her classmates often said.

“She’s good at everything,” or “She’s like a perfect heroine straight out of a book”

She’d heard comments like that more times than she could count.

Whenever people said such things, Sonia would respond with a faint, somewhat helpless smile. 

Perfect? She never saw herself that way. She simply did her best with whatever she had at hand. Whether it was appearance, character, studies, sports, arts, or home life—none of those were particularly hard to excel at. Most things in life yielded results if you worked at them. And if you had natural aptitude on top of that, success came even more easily. With enough effort, almost anything was possible.

That said, there were still things that left her helpless.

Sonia had never been in love.

It wasn’t because of any school prohibition against early dating—she hadn’t even had a childish one-sided crush.

She had met, over the years, plenty of objectively excellent boys. But in her eyes, they were just that: objectively excellent. She maintained friendly terms with the boys she knew, but always kept a clear line. She understood all too well how messy emotions could be between the sexes. Her relationships stayed in the ‘cordial but not close’ category. She’d seen many pop idols on TV and online too, but they all looked like polished merchandise to her—no different from pandas in a zoo.

And love?

Her mother taught her to be reserved, to value self-respect and chastity, to never settle, and to only marry a man who truly matched her heart. Her father urged her to judge with her own eyes, to see people’s true intentions, to keep her wits about her, and to never allow herself to be the passive party in a relationship.

Under this tug-of-war influence, who knew what strange chemical reaction had occurred, because the view of love Sonia ended up with was so romanticized, even she found it laughable.

“A perfect, lifelong romance with one true love.”

A dream worthy of a grade-school girl. And yet, it was what she yearned for.

She knew it wasn’t realistic. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t let go of that hope. It had even made her judgment criteria for potential partners excessively strict. Her sharp perception, broad knowledge, and knack for steering conversations meant she could assess someone’s compatibility within just a few minutes—and up to now, every result had been a firm “No.”

Her parents had both warned her that her standards were way too high. If she kept this up, she’d probably end up single forever.

Well, so be it. Better to be alone than to compromise.

That said…

Sonia had sometimes wondered if she really thought about it, what would her ideal ‘Mr. Right’ actually look like?

Hmm…

She could list hundreds of criteria, but somehow, none of them added up to a real person—not even in her imagination.

Still, at the very least, it was definitely not this man in front of her.

“Here ya go, Sonia! Best catch of the day!”

The blond man beamed, flashing a full row of pearly whites. With a grin that hovered somewhere between cheerful and cocky, he offered her a perfectly grilled fish. His pose was so dramatic it bordered on theatrical.

Yep. Not qualified.

No, don’t get the wrong idea. She meant not qualified as a partner. As a teammate, he was… well, passable.

Fine. Even as a teammate, it was a little iffy.

“Thanks. I appreciate the effort.”

Sonia accepted the grilled fish with both hands, nodding politely. Only after ensuring none of the oil or flaky bits would fall on her clothes did she begin eating, slowly and composedly. 

Throughout this, the blond man stood there grinning, watching her with an expression that could only be described as eager anticipation, desperate for her feedback. 

After some deliberation, she finally spoke.

“It’s rare to have such a good fish at this hour. The grilling brought out the flavor nicely too. But I don’t have much of an appetite. One small one is enough for me. You should eat yours while it’s hot.”

That single remark conveyed four distinct subtexts:

—It’s this late because someone delayed dinner. You might want to reflect on who that was.

—Yes, you caught the fish, but you didn’t grill it. So maybe cool the smugness.

—There’s no need to give me the biggest one. These over-the-top gestures are awkward, not charming.

—Please don’t stare at someone while they’re eating. It’s extremely rude.

Unfortunately, not a single one of those subtle cues landed. If anything, the man looked even more pleased with himself.

Sonia sighed inwardly. She debated whether to be blunt for once, but knowing his temperament—and the importance of team harmony—that would be unwise. Ruining the group dynamic would be counterproductive. Thankfully, the guy hadn’t done anything truly out of line yet, or she would’ve long since lost her patience.

After all, they were teammates.

Not by choice, of course. Including Sonia, there were only five people here. In the middle of a swamp. Out in the wild. If they wanted any chance of survival, they had no choice but to stick together. Personal preferences had to take a backseat to cohesion.

“Haha, that’s our Baron for you! I don’t know what we’d do without you!”

The short, sharp-featured man chirped with flattery, rushing to hand him a large leaf to wipe his mouth.

“Tch. What’s there to brag about? It’s been days. You caught a fish. Big deal.”

The tall Black man muttered his complaint, glaring at the pair with barely concealed disdain.

“Huh? You got a problem, man? Pretty sure you didn’t do squat today either. Who do you think bailed us out when that giant crab showed up?”

“You guys—Tch. Hey, you over there, you’re not gonna say something?”

“Eep!?”

The timid girl who was called out flinched, her eyes darting anxiously between the three men.

Sonia could feel the headache building just watching this.

Baron Aiton was competent, and sure, he had the looks. But he was also arrogant, self-absorbed, and loved the sound of his own voice.

Zhang Peng was the classic lackey, quick to cling to whoever looked the strongest. He’d latched onto Baron the moment he could, sucking up every chance he got.

Bichir Bernard was the eldest of the group at nearly thirty. He was a white-collar worker who clearly couldn’t stand Baron or Zhang Peng and was always quick to contradict them, but lacked the actual skills to back it up.

Then there was Reiko Sakurazaki, a junior high grad on her way to high school—timid, conflict-averse, utterly devoid of initiative or social finesse.

To be honest, this group was a disaster.

Baron and Zhang Peng were your textbook duo, Bichir clashed easily with them out of sheer seniority, and Reiko couldn’t hold her own in any situation. In any normal setting, this group would’ve fallen apart in under a week, especially in a godforsaken swamp like this.

And that was precisely where Sonia came in.

Buffer. Mediator. Glue.

“Ahem. Everyone.”

She cleared her throat softly, scanning the group with calm intensity. The eyes were key—if you wanted people to trust you, sincerity had to be visible in your gaze.

“Let’s just take this time to eat and rest. Who did what isn’t what matters. What matters is that we made it through another day. Let’s hope tomorrow goes just as smoothly, alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Mhm.”

“…Tch.”

Their reactions varied, but at least they quieted down and returned to their meals. Sonia let out another sigh.

Truthfully, she had no doubt she was better suited to leadership than any of them. The most qualified person to lead this group is me.

That wasn’t arrogance; it was a conclusion drawn from days of observation and analysis. Sonia had no craving for authority, but if she wanted to steer this mess into something functional, she had no choice but to take charge in some form.

But it wouldn’t be easy.

Zhang Peng and Reiko aside, Baron had a strong need to perform and control, while Bichir hated being told what to do. If they were in a modern city, that tension could be managed—but not here. Not in this damp, fog-wrapped wilderness. Not when none of them knew how or why they’d come to be here. It was a breeding ground for fear and confusion. For now, Sonia’s best option was to gently guide them from within. To be the stabilizer. The glue. Her real task was preventing this from devolving into something out of Lord of the Flies.

Chewing her grilled fish, she surveyed their surroundings.

The massive stone structure they’d taken shelter in was ancient. Firelight cast their distorted shadows across the walls. Beyond it, frogs croaked and insects sang, accompanied by the faint trickling of water.

It had been nearly three weeks since they arrived.

Sonia’s last memory was of sitting alone in the library, browsing university admissions guides. Then—she was here. The others had similar stories; they simply woke up in this place.

The wetlands were cold and damp. A faint mist hung constantly in the air. The sky was hidden behind what might have been clouds or just more fog. The native flora and fauna were completely unfamiliar. And then there were the fog walls—towering barriers of mist that cut them off from the outside world like a prison. Even Sonia had needed time to accept the truth: they’d somehow been transported to another world.

They couldn’t pass through the mist, couldn’t find anyone native to this place. Trapped and without answers, the five of them had no choice but to make camp. Sonia and Baron used what knowledge they had to start fires, find shelter among the ruins of ancient stone buildings, and forage for food in the wetlands. Everyone contributed in their own way, and little by little, they carved out a rhythm of survival.

But the longer they stayed, the more restless everyone became.

Blind confusion bred anxiety. Anxiety bred conflict. Conflict further degraded their situation.

Sonia had done her best to mediate, but there was only so much she could do. If something didn’t change soon, things would fall apart.

What they needed most was a disruption—a catalyst to break the deadlock. It didn’t even matter whether it was a good or bad development, so long as it shook them out of stagnation. That, at least, would offer a direction. A reason to move forward.

But when would that catalyst arrive?

Probably around the same time her destined true love did.

…So, never.