Chapter Two

The extreme cold storm turned the city into a cruel natural freezer overnight.

Blizzards buried the streets, and temperatures plummeted past minus several dozen degrees.

Under the continuous deprivation of ultra-low temperatures, the already overburdened public power grid completely collapsed, plunging entire blocks into deathly silent darkness.

But this didn't include our home.

We had long ago sealed all doors and windows with thickened steel plates and rough-hewn timber, and filled the walls with insulating rock wool.

The old diesel generator in the backyard cellar rumbled lowly, maintaining basic indoor lighting and external security surveillance.

In the living room, a massive brick fireplace burned vigorously.

On the dining table sat freshly grilled steak, its crispy surface sizzling, rich meat aroma and oil fragrance filling the entire room.

Helen cut off a piece of beef. After chewing and swallowing it heartily, she looked at me somewhat scrutinizingly. "Jason, you really left no backdoor for that woman named Sarah? Usually you bend over backwards for her. How did you suddenly change your nature and block her without a word?"

Father Bill also set down his knife and fork, his rugged face carrying a trace of inquiry.

I put down my meat-cutting knife, deciding to lay it all out.

"Because I died once." My voice had no obvious emotional fluctuation, as if narrating an ordinary matter unrelated to myself. "In my previous life, we were completely unprepared for this storm. A few days later, with supplies exhausted, I brought her the last half-pack of shriveled crackers we had. But to monopolize those rations, she and the new man she'd found kicked me into a thirty-foot-deep ice pit."

The air at the dining table instantly froze.

With a crisp "clang," Bill's knife dropped onto his plate. Helen shot to her feet, furious fire burning in her eyes.

"That ignorant bitch!" Helen ground her teeth, her anger turning to cold laughter. "How dare she touch my son? Jason, open the door—I'm going right now to skin her alive and throw her in the snow!"

"No need to dirty your hands, Mom." I reached out to grab Helen's wrist and pressed her back into her seat. "In this freezing hell without heating or supplies, letting her starve and freeze like a stray dog, watching the charm she's so proud of become worthless—that's the best torture for her."

My composure suppressed my parents' rage.

They exchanged glances. Bill snorted coldly and stuffed a thick-cut steak into his mouth. "You're right. Let her freeze to the bone, slowly."

As our family resolved our issues and prepared to continue our feast, someone suddenly pounded violently on the reinforced double security door in the front yard.

I stood up and walked to the entrance, sliding open a small observation panel.

Our neighbor David from next door, who usually looked down on everyone, was wrapped in two thin blankets, his face blue, frantically beating on our door.

"Helen! Bill! Open up!" David shouted at the door crack. "My heating's out! I can see your chimney's still smoking—you definitely have a fire! Let me in right now to warm up, and share some food with me! In this damn weather, neighbors helping each other is your obligation!"

My dad Bill frowned.

I raised my hand to stop him. Through the thick door panel, I didn't even bother with fake politeness.

"David, weren't you the one reporting us in the homeowners' group as lunatics destroying the community environment?" I stared at him coldly, my voice penetrating the howling wind and snow. "Right now, this family of lunatics is eating roast meat. And you don't even have the privilege of smelling our meat aroma. Get out of my yard."

"You dare refuse me?" David broke into curses after being exposed. "You selfish bastard! Believe it or not, I'll smash your door and windows right now!"

While shouting hysterically, he stupidly took half a step back and raised his foot, attempting to kick that steel-reinforced door.

The moment he lifted his foot, a gust of wind rushed into his collar.

He hadn't noticed that the front porch steps were already covered with a thick layer of black ice.

David's foot slipped, his entire center of gravity lost balance, and he fell backward comically.

"Bang!"

He crashed heavily onto the hard ice surface, his chin hitting the edge of the stone steps, instantly breaking two front teeth.

Hearing his screams outside, I scoffed lightly, smoothly pulled the observation panel shut, and dropped the last heavy iron bolt.

Still trying moral blackmail at a time like this—simply ridiculous.

The screams outside were quickly buried by the wind and snow. He could only tuck his tail and crawl back to his own ice hole to barely survive.

Our family returned to the warm fireplace without any psychological burden.

Time passed slowly under the snow's burial.

For three whole days, not only did the extreme cold not weaken, it further destroyed the city's vitality. Most people lucky enough to survive had long exhausted their meager food supplies.

In the morning, I sat at the solid wood table by the window, holding a small knife, cutting excess fresh beef into strips to hang by the fireplace to make jerky.

My gaze casually swept toward the ordinary black-and-white surveillance screen connected to the outdoor camera in the corner.

On the originally snow-filled street, several conspicuous figures suddenly appeared, walking unsteadily toward our yard.

The woman in the lead wore a rather high-quality name-brand down jacket.

Although her face was blue from cold and her neck hunched, her arrogant posture clearly showed she hadn't yet experienced the true taste of starvation in this world.

Behind her, keeping a moderate distance, followed three young men wearing leather jackets, carrying crowbars and claw hammers.

Several people were even chatting and laughing, as if this wasn't a frozen wasteland but a looting party where prizes were there for the taking.

Through the blurry surveillance screen, I recognized that woman at a glance.

It was my ex-girlfriend, Sarah.