2026-10-13 20:10:39The night air outside the Miller family’s luxury apartment complex was crisp and cool, but to Lucas Vance, it felt like paradise compared to the soul-crushing cold of the apocalypse.
He stood under the streetlamp, leaning against a concrete pillar, taking deep, deliberate breaths. His palm was still warm where the golden mark had appeared. Inside his mind, the Dimensional Sanctuary expanded like an endless void—a dark, weightless cosmos waiting to be filled. Infinite storage. Absolute time freeze. Lucas clutched his hands into fists. This changes everything. In his previous life, he was a powerless victim, thrown out into the blizzard like garbage. But this time, he had ninety days to turn himself into a god in a dying world. His phone vibrated violently in his pocket, shattering his thoughts. The screen displayed Chloe’s name. Lucas stared at it with a cold smirk before answering and placing the phone against his ear. "Lucas Vance! Are you insane?!" Chloe’s screaming voice exploded through the speaker, laced with pure rage. "You broke Ryan’s nose! Mother is hyperventilating, and we are at the emergency clinic right now! If you don't come here immediately, apologize, and pay for his medical bills, I swear I am filing for divorce!" Lucas couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Chloe, did you suffer from short-term memory loss? I was the one who proposed the divorce fifteen minutes ago." There was a sudden pause on the other end, followed by Chloe’s sharp breath. She hadn't expected him to stay this cold. "Don't play games with me, Lucas," her tone shifted, becoming icy and arrogant. "You think you can survive without me? Without my family's connections? You’re just a low-income worker with no background! The moment I leave you, you’ll be begging on the streets. If you sign over your father's villa to Ryan, I might consider forgiving you." "Keep dreaming," Lucas replied, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. "Tell your brother he better get used to the pain. And tell your mother that tomorrow at 9:00 AM, I’ll be waiting at the Civil Affairs Bureau. If you don't show up, I’ll release the audio recording of your mother demanding I hand over my property for free." "What recording?! Lucas, you—" Lucas hung up before she could finish and immediately blocked her number, along with Ryan's and Mrs. Miller's. He didn't have time to waste on dead people walking. Taking a deep breath, Lucas hailed a taxi and headed straight to his late parents' villa located in the quiet suburbs of the city. The two-story property sat on a large plot of land near the river, surrounded by lush green trees. It was worth at least 4.5 million dollars in the current real estate market. In his past life, Ryan had sold this very house for cheap right before the disaster to buy luxury cars and fuel his gambling habit. Not this time. Lucas sat down at the study desk inside the villa, pulled out a notebook, and started writing down his survival blueprint. Phase 1: Capital Generation (Days 1–7) Liquidate the villa immediately (sell below market price for quick cash). Sell all personal stocks and liquid savings. Take high-interest loans from private loan sharks and online credit platforms. (Since the world ends in three months, debt repayment is completely irrelevant!) Phase 2: Fortifying the Safehouse (Days 8–20) Buy a top-floor luxury penthouse in a modern high-rise. Upgrade it into an airtight, insulated steel fortress. Phase 3: Mass Resource Hoarding (Days 21–90) Food, water, medical supplies, generators, solar units, tactical gear, and fuel. The next morning at 8:50 AM, Lucas stood outside the Civil Affairs Bureau wearing a simple black leather jacket. At 9:05 AM, a flashy red BMW pulled up to the curb. Chloe stepped out, wearing oversized sunglasses and a sharp trench coat. Beside her was Ethan Cross—a tall, handsome man in a tailored grey suit, holding a silver-topped cane. Ethan Cross. The heir to the Cross Corporation and Chloe’s secret lover. In his past life, Ethan had orchestrated several attacks against Lucas during the early days of the apocalypse just to strip him of his remaining dignity. Seeing Lucas standing there calmly, Ethan let out a soft, mocking laugh as he walked over, casually putting his arm around Chloe’s waist. "So you're the famous Lucas Vance," Ethan sneered, eyeing Lucas’s simple clothes with open disdain. "Chloe told me about your pathetic outburst last night. Beating up a young boy like Ryan just because you're insecure about your poverty? How uncivilized." Chloe looked at Lucas with a mix of pride and cruelty, leaning into Ethan’s chest. "Lucas, Ethan was kind enough to accompany me. He’s already agreed to pay for Ryan’s medical bills. If you kneel right now and apologize to Ethan and me, I might reconsider the divorce." Lucas didn't even blink. He looked at Ethan's arm around Chloe's waist and then met Ethan’s arrogant gaze. "Ethan Cross," Lucas said smoothly. "I see you like picking up garbage from the street. You two really deserve each other." Ethan’s smile instantly froze. "What did you say, you little pest?" "I said, save your energy," Lucas walked past them toward the entrance of the bureau. "Let's sign the papers. I have a very busy day ahead." Chloe was furious. She had expected Lucas to break down in tears seeing her with another man, especially someone as rich and powerful as Ethan. Instead, Lucas looked at them as if they were nothing more than insects on a pavement. Inside the office, the process took less than twenty minutes. Since they had no shared assets—Lucas had firmly kept his villa off the table—the clerk stamped the red divorce certificates without hassle. As they stepped back out onto the street, Chloe held her divorce certificate, looking at Lucas with cold satisfaction. "You'll regret this, Lucas," she spat. "Without me, you're nothing. Let's see how long you survive when you're broke and homeless!" "I give him two weeks before he comes crawling back to beg for a job at my company," Ethan added, smirking arrogantly as he opened the passenger door for Chloe. Lucas didn't bother responding. He turned around and walked away without looking back once. By 11:30 AM, Lucas arrived at the office of a major real estate investment firm downtown. He met with a senior broker named Mr. Harrison. "Mr. Vance, your villa is easily worth 4.5 million dollars," Mr. Harrison said, reviewing the property deeds. "If we put it on the market, we can fetch that price within two or three months." "I don't have three months," Lucas interrupted, resting his elbows on the table. "I want it sold today. Cash or direct wire transfer." Mr. Harrison blinked in surprise. "Today? Selling on such short notice means you'll have to take a massive hit on the value." "I'll sell it for 3.2 million dollars," Lucas said flatly. "On one condition: the full amount must be transferred into my bank account within 48 hours." Mr. Harrison’s eyes lit up with greed. A luxury villa at a 30% discount was an absolute steal! The firm could easily buy it directly and flip it later for a massive profit. "Deal!" Mr. Harrison immediately stood up and extended his hand. "Our legal team will draft the emergency buyout agreement right now." By 3:00 PM, the paperwork was finalized. Lucas walked out of the real estate firm with a signed contract guaranteeing 3.2 million dollars in his account by Thursday morning. Now, it was time for the second step. Lucas pulled up a list of high-interest private lending agencies—the kind operated by underground loan sharks who charged exorbitant interest rates. Over the next four hours, Lucas visited six different private finance offices across the city. Using his upcoming 3.2 million dollar real estate payout as proof of collateral, he secured short-term loans from every single one of them. Loan Company A: $500,000 Loan Company B: $400,000 Loan Company C: $600,000 Online Credit Platforms: $200,000 By 7:00 PM, his bank account balance had shot up to 1.7 million dollars in ready cash, with another 3.2 million dollars arriving in two days! Walking into a quiet cafe, Lucas opened his laptop and began testing the capabilities of his Dimensional Sanctuary. He ordered a piping hot cup of black coffee and a freshly baked steak pie from the counter. Sitting in a corner booth, he focused his mind, placed his palm over the hot coffee cup, and whispered mentally: Store. SWOOSH. In a fraction of a second, the coffee cup vanished from the table, appearing inside the vast dark dimension of his mind. Lucas waited for three full hours. At 10:00 PM, as the cafe was preparing to close, Lucas focused his mind again and willed the coffee back out. SWOOSH. The porcelain cup reappeared on the wooden table. Lucas carefully took a sip. Steam rose from the dark liquid. It was burning hot—exactly the same temperature as when it was brewed three hours ago! Not a single degree of heat had been lost! A dark, triumphant smile spread across Lucas’s face. "Time freeze confirmed," Lucas whispered to himself, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "Now... let's start buying out the entire city."
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Organizing the Infinite Void
The heavy titanium blast doors of Penthouse A sealed shut with a low, pneumatic hiss, locking out the howling gale and the lingering, desperate echoes of the Miller family’s cries. Inside, the world transformed. The brutal, howling cold of the dying metropolis was replaced by an ambient, climate-controlled warmth, an oasis of absolute silence and peace. Lucas stood motionless in the exact center of the expansive, minimalist living room, a crystal glass of chilled mineral water clutched loosely in his fingers. He looked down at his right palm. There, embedded in his skin, the faint, intricate golden mark—the absolute anchor and threshold of his Dimensional Sanctuary—pulsed with a steady, calming warmth, a silent heartbeat of supernatural power. With exactly eighty days remaining until the catastrophic descent of the first major mutant wave, his physical and structural preparations were largely complete. The penthouse was a fortress, and his exterior defenses were unyielding. But
The Desperate Beggars and the First Face-Slap
The frost on the exterior window pane of Penthouse A had thickened into an intricate, crystalline armor. Outside, the blizzard howled like a pack of starved beasts, driving ice needles against the glass at eighty miles per hour. The ambient temperature in the city had plummeted further to a horrifying -50°C. Down in the streets, abandoned cars sat buried under snowdrifts, their engines cracked open by the sheer force of the cold.Inside, the penthouse was a warm, pristine paradise. The ambient indoor temperature sat comfortably at 22°C (72°F).Lucas leaned back on his plush velvet sofa, wrapped in a lightweight fleece blanket, watching a pre-downloaded action movie on his 85-inch OLED television. On the marble coffee table before him rested a steaming bowl of hot beef noodle soup, freshly pulled from his Dimensional Sanctuary. The rich broth emitted a fragrant aroma of star anise, Sichuan pepper, and tender braised beef—a stark contrast to the desolate, frozen hellscape just beyond
The Day the World Froze
The digital countdown widget on Lucas’s phone had finally hit zero.December 15th. 4:00 AM.For the past eighty days, the autumn weather had been unusually crisp, lulling the city’s millions of residents into a false sense of security. People had gone about their daily routines, grumbling about seasonal chill while shopping for winter coats, completely unaware that a planetary cataclysm was lurking just around the corner.Lucas stood inside his reinforced 45th-floor penthouse, wearing a comfortable cotton hoodie and wool socks. The indoor digital thermometer on the wall glowed with a steady, comforting green light: 22°C (72°F).Outside the triple-pane bulletproof polycarbonate windows, however, the atmosphere was undergoing a terrifying, violent transformation.Without warning, the sky turned an unnatural, bruised shade of violet-black. A ferocious gale-force wind swept down from the upper stratosphere, carrying with it a wall of blinding, Arctic white fog.CRACK!The temperat
Fortress Aegis and the Final Seal
The air on the 45th floor of Aegis Tower had completely transformed. Overhead, beneath the towering ceilings, Marcus and his elite defense crew had stripped away the old, decorative light fixtures to install heavy-duty structural reinforcements. Airtight steel doors, triple-pane bulletproof polycarbonate glass, and dense layers of ceramic thermal insulation sheets had been meticulously fitted, turning the luxury penthouse into an impenetrable military-grade bunker.Lucas stood alone in the center of the expansive living room, his eyes sweeping over every meticulous detail:Reinforced Entrance: Solid titanium alloy blast doors now guarded the private elevators and emergency stairwell. Without biometric fingerprint verification, encrypted multi-layer passcodes, and heavy mechanical deadbolts, breaching the entrance was utterly impossible.Thermal & Environmental Defense: Beneath the clean interior drywall sat thick layers of high-grade insulation backed by half-inch high-carbon stee
The Legal Trap and the Auction Frenzy
The slick glass facade of the Vanguard Legal Group building reflected the morning sun, shining brightly over the city’s financial district. Inside the 18th-floor conference room, the atmosphere was thick with tension.Chloe sat at the head of the polished oak table, wearing a dark navy blazer and oversized sunglasses to hide her swollen eyes. Beside her was Ryan, his nose heavily bandaged with white medical tape, breathing through his mouth with a painful wheeze. On Chloe’s right sat Ethan Cross, lounging casually in a leather armchair, tapping his expensive fountain pen against a tablet. Across from them stood Mr. Sterling, a ruthless corporate attorney known for destroying small-time defendants.When the heavy wooden door opened at exactly 10:00 AM, Lucas walked in alone. He was wearing a plain dark hoodie and simple jeans, carrying nothing except his hands in his pockets.Seeing Lucas’s casual demeanor, Ryan’s eyes flared with pure hatred. "You arrogant bastard... You think you
Medical Reserves, High-Tech Power, and Tactical Gear
The night descended quietly over the industrial district, but Lucas showed no signs of slowing down. Having cleared out the first batch of grain and food supplies, his next focus shifted to three crucial pillars of post-apocalyptic survival: high-grade medical supplies, independent energy systems, and defense equipment.In the brutal environment of the Great Frost, a simple fever, an infected cut, or lack of clean heat source killed far more people than armed conflicts. Medicines would become currency more precious than diamonds, and power meant the difference between freezing to death at -60°C or surviving in comfort.At 8:30 AM the following morning, Lucas drove a rented SUV to the city's pharmaceutical wholesale market. Rather than approaching retail pharmacies, which faced strict sales limits, he targeted major pharmaceutical logistics distributors.Posing as an procurement representative for an international maritime security firm preparing multi-year vessel supplies, Lucas m
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