From Zero to Harvest： My Post-Apocalyptic Empire

【Today is March 18, 2066. Clear skies. Air Mutation Index: 3. Status of Mount Trinity and the Badlands: Normal…】

【The Wave has subsided, but the work of rebuilding has just begun. Due to injury, Colonel Elias Frost of the Botanical Defense Force has retired. During the Ninth Session of the Council, newly appointed Commander Wyatt proposed the immediate restoration of civilian infrastructure…】

【The First Census of New Flora begins now!】

【All citizens within the city limits are ordered to report to the Administrative Citadel with their Civic Merit Cards and valid identification for verification and ration collection…】

The broadcast, crisp and penetrating, echoed from every direction, cutting through the silence of the wilderness. Even deep in the forest, the voice was unmistakable.

In the Badlands, the sound of shuffling footsteps emerged—scavengers returning from the wild.

Yet, from the heart of the forest came a different symphony. It was the frantic rustling of unnatural growth, the soft *popping* of buds bursting into bloom in seconds, and the eerie, pleading cries of beasts and birds twisted by the environment.

Suddenly, a young girl stumbled out from the tree line.

She looked no older than eighteen or nineteen, her skin pale and translucent, so delicate that a mere brush of a leaf seemed liable to leave a mark. Yet, as she pushed through the undergrowth in her tattered clothes, the serrated leaves recoiled as if repelled by an invisible force. Gnarled roots writhed and shifted out of her path, seemingly terrified of tripping her.

When she finally cleared the forest, she was met not by a road, but by a wall—a towering barrier of rose bushes nearly five meters high, stretching endlessly in both directions.

Cascading down the wall were chains of pink buds, their faint fragrance swept away by the wind along with fallen petals. But upon closer inspection, the beauty was a trap. Beneath the blooms, the dense thicket of thorns gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen, sharp as daggers.

*【It looks so familiar…】*

The girl murmured to herself. Then, without hesitation, she reached out and touched the deadly thorns.

In the next instant, the Briar Corridor came alive. The branches slithered and parted, creating a narrow passage just for her.

She paused for a moment, bewildered, before stepping through without a second thought.

Inside lay a city of gray and ruin.

…

The city was a cacophony of noise.

Some skyscrapers still stood defiant against the sky, but many had crumbled into rubble. The roads were scarred with fissures and potholes, evidence of a past catastrophe. Aside from the tufts of grass poking optimistically from cracks in the concrete, there was not a single tree in sight.

The city was desolate. Yet, contrasting this bleak landscape was the spirited, repetitive broadcast urging the citizens forward.

【The First Census of New Flora begins now!】

People began to emerge from the woodwork. From residential towers, shopping malls, and amusement parks—even from the rubble itself—figures clawed their way out. They were covered in dust, but their eyes shone with excitement.

They formed groups, running toward the city center, their chatter filling the air.

“The Mutation Index has been so stable lately. Haven’t heard a peep from Mount Trinity in weeks.”

“Mount Trinity has always been quiet. We get fewer mutant sightings there than in the Badlands…”

“With the mountain and the Briar Corridor blocking the way, New Flora got off easy…”

Walking silently among them, listening intently, was Willow. *So it’s called Mount Trinity,* she thought, *and that wall is the Briar Corridor.*

“They say we have a lot of Plant-type Espers here. My mom thinks it’s the Mountain God’s blessing.”

“Please, there are barely any Espers, and they all get scooped up by the Defense Force. What does that have to do with us normals?”

“You never know. If our mutation levels hit the critical point, maybe we’ll get powers too…”

“Don’t be stupid. When regular people hit the limit, they just go insane. Besides, haven’t you noticed? Even the Espers get more corrupted over time.”

*Espers…*

Willow looked at her open palm. Was this ability she had—the power to make plants obey her—what they called being an Esper?

She wanted to hear more, but the crowd was moving at a jog, and the conversation shifted.

“What’s your Merit Score? I’ve been hauling bricks for weeks. They give extra points for that… God, it’s humiliating. I used to be a financial analyst…”

“I used to be a stylist! I’ve got 400 points. Wonder what kind of rations I can get. Heard the Capital distributes goods based strictly on merit…”

“Can’t complain. The Defense Force is on the front lines. They earn every calorie. Just hope my score is enough…”

Everyone was hurrying, some practically sprinting. Willow, walking alone and looking around in confusion, felt like an outlier.

As the crowd surged into a four-story building with a massive chunk missing from its corner, her isolation became even more apparent.

The lobby was packed. Voices bounced off the walls. Willow tilted her head, catching fragments of conversation from the queue.

*【Look at this lobby. Used to be the Department of Housing. Packed all day long. Now? You can pick any abandoned penthouse you want…】*

*【Shut it. Abandoned is good! No landscaping, no plants. Safe as houses!】*

*【You’re talking about downtown. The suburbs are overgrown. Takes weeks to clear a building…】*

*【Exactly. Developers used to sell “nature retreats” near Mount Trinity. Now it’s a death trap.】*

*【I used to live in a villa for the greenery. Then the ivy mutated and ripped my entire wall down.】*

*【Forget the past. We survived. That’s what matters…】*

She listened silently, shuffling forward with the line. She didn’t know how long she stood there until finally, it was her turn.

Behind a makeshift desk, a middle-aged man went through the motions with dead eyes.

“ID.”

Willow blinked,blank. She shook her head. “I don’t have one.”

The man sighed heavily. “Then why are you in this line? Didn’t you read the notice? Go to the line next door.”

Willow couldn’t remember anything. She could only rely on the rudimentary system left in place. Following his instruction, she numbly moved to the next line.

It was a long, long queue. She stood there as the morning sun climbed high into the sky. Finally, she reached the front again.

“If you lost your ID, why didn’t you file for a replacement this morning? How did you even get a Civic Merit Card without ID? Were you using a temporary slip?”

Willow couldn’t remember the past. Her mind was a blank canvas covered in thick fog; aside from her name, nothing remained.

She had joined the queue hoping the system might have a record of her, but facing the crude equipment and the even cruder hall—not a security camera in sight—she realized she might be out of luck.

So, she stood there in silence.

The clerk tapped lazily at his keyboard. “How do you spell that? Which ‘Elm’?”

“H-U-A… wait, no.” She corrected herself, remembering the new tongue. “W-I-L-L-O-W. And the surname is Elmwood. Like the tree.”

The clerk clicked his tongue. “Elmwood. Sounds like a bad omen. I tried eating elm seeds once during the famine. Bad idea. Those samaras spin like shurikens. Nearly sliced us to ribbons—”

Willow offered a polite, innocent smile. “That wasn’t me.”

“Obviously it wasn’t you…” The clerk squinted at the screen, scrolling. “Huh. No record of this name. Did you register under an alias? Give me your