I HOARDED TRILLIONS BEFORE THE GREAT FREEZE

Chapter 5: A Multi-Million-Dollar Buying Spree

The dashboard clock of my SUV blinked sharply as I tore down the highway toward the Jiangling Central Agricultural Market. The pre-dawn sky was unnaturally dark, heavy with an oppressive, stagnant humidity that felt wrong for mid-August. In my past life, the early meteorological signs of the Great Freeze, the sudden drop in high-altitude jet streams and the unseasonal polar vortex shifts, did not start leaking into restricted meteorological forums until late September. But glancing at the live weather data feed on my tablet, the atmospheric anomalies were already manifesting five days ahead of schedule.

The timeline was accelerating. That meant my hoarding spree could not afford a single moment of hesitation.

I pulled my vehicle hard into the sprawling loading docks of the agricultural market. The massive distribution hub was just beginning to wake up, forklift engines whining and workers stacking pallets of goods under harsh fluorescent lights. Three million dollars in liquid capital sat ready in my corporate accounts, burning a hole in my digital ledger. A single can of beef stew or a sack of flour would soon be worth more than a fleet of luxury sports cars, and I intended to own a mountain of it.

I strode directly into the primary wholesale office, bypassing the front desk receptionists, and pushed open the door to the regional director's private suite.

Director Han looked up from his desk, annoyed by the abrupt intrusion. His expression shifted from irritation to cautious corporate greed the moment I tossed my corporate verification card and a certified bank deposit printout onto his glass desk. Three million dollars in clear, unencumbered funds.

"Mr. Vance," Han said, smoothing down his silk tie and flashing a practiced, oily smile. "Three million? That is a very substantial procurement order. What kind of agricultural volume are you looking to secure at this hour?"

"Everything," I said, my voice cutting through the room like a razor. "I want your entire inventory of premium long-grain rice, fortified flour, bulk cooking oil, freeze-dried vegetables, and canned beef. Every single pallet currently sitting in your refrigerated warehouses and dry storage silos."

Han blinked in absolute disbelief, leaning back in his executive chair. "Your entire order value would wipe out our primary regional reserve for the next three months. That is over one thousand tons of provisions. Are you launching an export operation?"

"That is none of your concern," I replied coldly, sliding a pre-written acquisition contract across the glass. "I am offering twenty percent above current wholesale market value on the condition of immediate, uninterrupted transfer to my private logistics fleet right now. No waiting periods, no secondary approvals."

The director's eyes practically bulged at the mention of a twenty percent premium. To a mid-level corporate merchant, it looked like the deal of a lifetime, an eccentric, cash-heavy buyer overpaying for surplus goods. He thought I was an insane speculator throwing money away. He had no idea that in sixty days, currency would be worthless paper and food would be the only true god left on earth.

"Sign it," I commanded, tapping my pen against the desk.

Trembling slightly with excitement, Han grabbed a heavy metal pen and aggressively signed his name across the dotted lines, sealing the contract before I could change my mind. "It is done, Mr. Vance! The warehouses are yours. We will begin loading your transport trucks immediately."

I turned on my heel and walked out of the office, heading straight back out to the sprawling loading bays. Within minutes, a convoy of heavy-duty semi-trucks lined up against the docks, their massive cargo bays stuffed to the brim with thousands of tons of high-calorie survival provisions.

As the first ten cargo trucks rumbled out of the agricultural compound and headed toward my primary subterranean warehouse district, I followed closely behind in my SUV, watching the endless stream of wealth rolling under my absolute control.

The spatial vault hummed quietly at the edge of my consciousness, ready to swallow whole warehouses of supplies the moment we reached the destination, bypassing physical storage limits entirely.

My phone buzzed in the console cup holder, displaying a secure alert from a secondary monitor tapping into Jiangling's internal shipping logistics. The data stream flickered with a disturbing revelation. Even as Director Han shook my hand and thanked me for the generous cash injection, a hidden subsidiary account linked to his office had just flagged a secondary digital contract, he was secretly attempting to divert twenty percent of the grain I had just purchased to a secondary broker backed by an anonymous syndicate.

A dark, predatory smirk curled across my lips. The greedy bastard thought he could pocket my millions and still sell off my inventory behind my back. Let him try. By the time his secondary buyers arrived to claim their shipments, every single pallet of grain would already be locked safely inside my infinite, unassailable dimensional vault, leaving his warehouses completely bare. He would be left facing angry syndicates with nothing to show for his betrayal.

I stepped hard on the accelerator, leading the heavily laden convoy down the final stretch of asphalt toward the isolated, high-security industrial warehouse district where my subterranean vault facility waited.

The first ten cargo trucks rumbled to a halt in front of the massive reinforced steel gates of the facility, kicking up dust in the pre-dawn gloom.

I shifted my SUV into park and reached for the door handle to step out and initiate the spatial transfer.

Suddenly, the blinding headlights of a low-slung, cherry-red sports car cut through the darkness, screeching aggressively around the corner. The vehicle slammed to a halt right in front of the gates, completely blocking the entry path of the lead semi-truck.

The driver's side door flew open, and a woman stepped out, her designer heels clicking sharply against the gravel.

Clara.

And stepping out from the passenger side, huffing out breath with a look of entitled fury, was her mother, brandishing her phone like a weapon. They had tracked me down.