Frozen Rebirth: My Infinite Storage in the Apocalypse

Chapter 1: Reborn

"Ashley Carter, if I could do it all over again, I would..."

Ethan Cole's dying roar was still caught in his throat when a heart-wrenching, excruciating pain surged through his chest.

He looked down in disbelief, only to see a blood-stained fruit knife protruding from his chest, the handle still clutched in the hand of his girlfriend, Ashley Carter.

In the final moment before his consciousness faded, he saw not a shred of guilt in Ashley Carter's eyes, only naked mockery and madness, as if she were looking at a foolish ant.

"Ethan Cole, have a safe journey."

The man beside her, his former "good brother," Ryan.

He had one arm around Ashley's waist, while his other hand unscrupulously caressed her chest, his laughter twisted and sinister.

"Thanks for your 'care' over the past six months. Ashley and I were about to starve to death. Your final purpose is to serve as our reserve fund."

Reserve fund...

Ethan finally understood. He had been set up by Ryan.

He had held Ashley Carter in the palm of his hand as his pure, unreachable love, and treated Ryan like a brother, giving him his heart and soul, only to be repaid with joint betrayal and a knife through his heart.

Endless hatred and regret spread through his body like venom. How he longed to do it all over again, to tear apart those two hypocritical faces before him!

He could only blame himself for being too naive.

How he wished everything could start over.

Soon, Ethan Cole was dead beyond a doubt.

---

"Hoo..."

Ethan bolted upright from his bed, his chest heaving violently, cold sweat instantly soaking his pajamas.

He subconsciously touched his chest. The skin was smooth and intact, with no wounds or sticky bloodstains.

"I... didn't die?"

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse from extreme shock.

To confirm this wasn't a dream, he raised his hand and pinched his thigh hard.

"Hiss"

The sharp pain made him gasp, and a bruise quickly bloomed on his thigh.

It wasn't a dream. He was really still alive!

Ethan tremblingly reached for the phone on his nightstand and lit up the screen.

June 3, 2026. 6:12 AM.

There was exactly one month left until the devastating Extreme Cold Apocalypse.

He had been reborn.

Reborn thirty days before the arrival of the Apocalypse.

Immense ecstasy overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. He almost wanted to jump up and cheer.

One month. That was enough.

Enough time to make thorough preparations, enough to rewrite his destiny, and enough to make that pair of bastards pay in blood.

Ethan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He clearly remembered that at midnight on July 3rd, one month late, an unprecedented snowstorm would sweep across the entire country.

It wasn't the romantic first snow that Southerners longed for. It was the scythe of the Grim Reaper.

New York City, where he had lived for 26 years, sat on the northeastern coast and had always known cold winters, but nothing like this. The annual average temperature hovered around 55 degrees, and even the harshest winters rarely pushed past the teens.

But that snow fell fast and fierce. At first, people excitedly took pictures and posted them online, thinking it was just a freak summer storm, a rare spectacle worth sharing.

No one realized this was the prelude to the Apocalypse.

The blizzard lasted for three days and three nights. Temperatures plummeted from 85 degrees down to freezing, then rapidly dropped below minus 60 degrees.

A full 145-degree drop, as if God had pressed the quick-freeze button.

The day before the Apocalypse, emergency broadcasts urgently reminded citizens to stock up on food, water, and warm clothing.

But by then, no one took it seriously.

Who would believe that the summer streets of New York would turn into an ice cellar?

The result was that after the Extreme Cold Apocalypse had lasted for a month, 95% of the entire population had died from hypothermia, hunger, and chaos, leaving only a few scattered survivors struggling in the extreme cold.

And he, having lasted only a month, had his life ended by the two people he trusted most.

Ethan walked to the bathroom. The young man in the mirror had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, with fair skin, though his face was somewhat pale from the lingering shock.

"I clearly didn't have bad prospects. So why was I so bewitched by that woman Ashley Carter?"

He cursed at himself in the mirror, raised his hands to scoop up a handful of tap water, and gulped down several mouthfuls.

The faint smell of chlorine in the tap water made him feel incredibly reassured at this moment.

He didn't stop until he couldn't drink any more.

In his previous life, after the Apocalypse arrived, the water, electricity, and gas were cut off in just three short days.

He had lived for 26 years, pampered since childhood, and had never drunk straight from the tap, but in the Apocalypse, having a mouthful of clean water was something to be thankful for.

Never mind tap water. Even worse was drinkable.

Although he could go out to collect snow to melt for water, Ethan hadn't had anything to make a fire with.

In the Extreme Cold Apocalypse, besides food and water, the most important thing was heating supplies.

He raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes gradually became firm.

In this life, he would never repeat the same mistakes.

Ethan's family background wasn't that of a top billionaire, but it was affluent.

His parents had been small business owners in the construction materials industry. Last month, while driving back from a business trip upstate, they were on the I-87 when they collided head-on with an out-of-control semi-truck.

Completely different from the "safety collision" advertised at the manufacturer's press conference, the car was smashed to pieces, and his parents died on the spot.

They left him a 3,000 square-foot luxury penthouse duplex on the Upper West Side and 20 million dollars in cold hard cash in his bank account.

And a BMW 7 Series.

That was what his parents had bought for him after he graduated from college.

This amount of money wasn't much in expensive New York City, let alone in the world of social media where people had annual incomes in the millions and drove Porsches everywhere, but it was enough for him to live a life free from want.

Yet, to pursue the office beauty Ashley Carter, whom he had secretly loved for years, he had stubbornly squeezed his way into her workplace, Crown Corp and became a "777" worker.

Working from 7 AM to 7 PM, seven days a week. Even harsher than the notorious 996.

Fortunately, Crown Corp had good benefits, and he could earn over $8,000 a month.

Every dollar of his salary was spent on buying gifts and taking Ashley out to dinner.

Not a single cent on himself.

Ethan had successfully become Ashley's colleague, though unfortunately, they were not in the same department. His "good brother" Ryan sat right across from Ashley, and Ethan had foolishly asked Ryan to help him ask Ashley out, slipping Ryan cash and buying him drinks every time.

Thinking back now, those two had probably been hooking up long before he ever got involved, only playing him for a fool and an ATM.

Ashley had pretended to agree to be his girlfriend, slowly swindling him out of the 20 million in his bank account.

If not for the sudden arrival of the Apocalypse, they would have likely already taken his money, sold his penthouse, and kicked him to the curb.

"Ashley Carter. Ryan."

Ethan clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, a flash of ruthlessness appearing in the depths of his eyes.

"Since Heaven has given me a chance to start over, just wait and see how I take my revenge."

But he wasn't impulsive.

Going to settle scores with that pair right now would be too stupid. If he acted now, the police would be knocking on his door within three hours, and he'd end up in a cell or worse.

Having died once, he was no longer that naive, impulsive young man.

Revenge had to wait.

Wait for the Apocalypse to arrive and for order to collapse. By then, he could deal with that pair of traitors however he pleased.

The most important thing right now was to prepare for the Extreme Cold Apocalypse one month away.

He didn't just want to survive. He wanted to live better than anyone else.

Since he had been reborn, Ethan wanted to be a cut above the rest when the Apocalypse came.

The days spent struggling in the previous Apocalypse were too painful. In the minus 60-degree cold, he would shiver even wrapped in three layers of blankets, starving to the point of gnawing on bark and chewing grass roots, only to be betrayed by the people he trusted most in the end.

That kind of life, he didn't want to experience for even one more day.

"Money... supplies..."

Ethan frowned. Twenty million seemed like a lot, but for hoarding supplies before the Apocalypse, it was actually far from enough.

He needed to hoard enough food for a lifetime, prepare enough heating equipment and fuel, collect every survival tool he could think of, and even acquire weapons for self-defense.

But where would he put all these supplies?

This 3,000 square-foot penthouse seemed spacious, but if it were really filled with supplies, it wouldn't be enough.

Rent a warehouse? But with so many supplies concentrated in one place, it would easily be targeted after the Apocalypse. Too unsafe.

Just as he was worrying about the storage problem, a strange consciousness suddenly flooded his mind and the scene before his eyes instantly shifted.

He seemed to be in a boundless white space, with a smooth floor under his feet. Everything around was empty, and it was so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat.

"Where... is this? I want to go back!"

Ethan shouted in fright and the scene before him suddenly vanished. He was still standing in the bathroom, his face pale in the mirror.

"That just now... could it be a Storage Space?"

A bold thought emerged in his mind.

He concentrated and tried to enter that space again.

Sure enough, the view before him turned back into that vast, white world.

He went in and out a dozen times before he finally calmed his excitement.

Talk about getting a pillow just when you're sleepy!

With this infinitely large personal Storage Space, the problem of hoarding supplies was solved!

Ethan immediately began testing the functions of the space.

He took a bottle of soda and a popsicle out of the refrigerator, concentrated his mind, and thought Store. The next second, the items in his hands vanished.

He then thought Retrieve and the soda and popsicle appeared out of thin air in his hands.

"Too easy!"

His eyes lit up. He tried storing larger items: a sofa, a washing machine, a laptop.

Regardless of weight, as long as he focused his mind, the item was stored in the space. With another thought, he could take it out and place it precisely where he wanted.

After testing, he found that the storage range was about 30 feet. Beyond that distance, he couldn't operate it.

However, this space wasn't omnipotent.

He tried to store the bathroom tiles, the bedroom floor, even the reinforced front door, but all failed. It seemed he couldn't store fixed objects integrated with the building. They had to be independent items.

"Wait, preservation!"

Ethan suddenly remembered something and hurriedly took the bottle of soda back out of the space.

The water droplets on the bottle hadn't continued to condense. It was exactly the same as when he first took it out of the refrigerator.

"It even has a preservation function!"

Ethan excitedly pumped his fist.

This was simply a cheat code tailor-made for the Apocalypse. With this space, he didn't have to worry about food spoiling or fuel going bad.

Ethan leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh of relief.

The young man in the mirror had bright eyes, full of anticipation for the future and a hint of indiscernible ruthlessness.

One more month.

He had 20 million in savings, an infinite Storage Space, and the memories of the Apocalypse from his previous life.

Ashley Carter. Ryan.

Just you wait.

In this life, the roles of hunter and prey would be swapped.

And this Extreme Cold Apocalypse?

This would be his greatest stage.