đđMore Free ReadingđđđđBuilding My Empire in the Frozen Apocalypse
Chapter 1 The Countdown Ends
By pure accident, I traveled back to three days before the apocalypse countdown ended.
I traded away all my survival supplies for unwanted shovels and chainsaws.
Everyone thought I was preparing to die.
Only I knew the truth.
Three days later, all humanity would be forcibly transported into a doomsday survival game where every stored resource would vanish instantly.
Only tools could save your life.
âŚâŚ
2027
The moment the apocalypse countdown hit zero, a chime rang directly in Riley Carter's skull.
"Welcome to the Extreme Cold Survival Game.
"Earth no longer exists. This is your new home. This is your grave.
"Survival rules are as follows.
"1. Each player begins with one campfire. It is your only defense against the cold. If the campfire dies, you will be judged deceased by the system. Not that it mattersâwithout the fire, you won't last anyway.
"2. This is a real world. You can die from hunger. From exposure. From animal attack.
"3. Supplies stockpiled in your previous world do not carry over. Only items on your person, or in direct physical contact at the moment of transfer, are retained.
"4. Struggle to survive. It is your only hope."
Riley's heart slammed against her ribs.
Supplies didn't carry over?
She looked down at herself.
Workwear. Intact.
Andâ
She was still sitting on the three giant toolboxes.
They sat solidly in the snow, dusted with powder, unmistakably here.
"Whew." Riley let out a long breath. A white cloud dispersed in front of her face.
Pity, though. During her renovations, she'd stocked those boxes with a lot of power tools. The expensive impact driver. The reciprocating saw. In a world with no electrical outlets, once those batteries died, they were just dead weight.
But even so. The hand tools. The consumables. The sheer volume of stuff in those boxesâit was a treasure beyond measure in a place like this.
Riley forced herself to calm down. She was here. She'd deal with it.
Something new lived in her mind now. She concentrated, and a translucent pale-blue screen materialized in front of her eyes. Looked just like a video game HUD.
"Personal Panel
"Name: Riley Carter
"ID: 1120-US
"Level: 1 (Standard Survivor)
"Strength: 8 (Years of manual labor have made you stronger than average)
"Agility: 8 (You've got quick reflexes)
"Constitution: 6 (You've been skipping meals lately)
"Spirit: 9 (You keep your head when others panic)
"Inventory: 16/16 slots (Base capacity)"
"Inventory?"
Riley studied the sixteen empty squares at the bottom of the display.
She reached out, touched one of the toolboxes, and thought the word, "Store."
Whoosh.
The heavy box vanished. In its place, a tiny icon appeared in the first inventory slot, a miniature "x1" in the corner.
"It actually worked."
For the first time since arriving, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Retrieve.
Thud.
The toolbox landed back in the snow, puffing up powder.
No energy cost. No sense of weight. And in that inventory, she could carry anything, regardless of how heavy it was. Later on, when she went scavenging, that would make all the difference.
Riley rubbed her stiff, freezing hands together and turned her attention to the campfire at her feet.
It was the only warmth in this frozen wasteland.
Hovering above the flames, visible only to her, were a few lines of glowing text.
"Basic Campfire (Lv.1)
"Remaining Burn Time: 05:28:00
"Current Coverage: Radius six feet (Blocks wind and snow)
"Upgrade Requirements: Wood x50, Stone x20, Coal x10, Steel x5
"Description: This is your life. Do not let it die. Upgrading expands your safe zone and unlocks additional construction options."
"Needs upgrading."
Riley frowned.
Wood and stone she could probably find. But coal? Steel? Out here in the middle of nowhere?
A flash of movement caught her eye. A small wooden box, half-buried in the snow not far from the fire.
The starter crate. Had to be.
Riley didn't rush. First, she pulled the claw hammer from her beltâthe one she always kept there, habit from years of workâand gripped it tight. She scanned the tree line. Listened past the wind.
Nothing moved. No sounds but the storm.
She walked over quickly, crouched by the box. No lock.
She pried the lid open with the claw end of her hammer.
Inside, a handful of items.
"Obtained: Iron Axe x1
"Obtained: Stale Dark Bread x2
"Obtained: 500ml Bottled Water x1
"Obtained: Kindling x5
"Obtained: Insulated Field Jacket x1
"Obtained: Utility Rope (25ft)
"Obtained: Thermal Underwear (Set) x2
Not much. Barely anything.
Riley picked up one of the dark loaves. It was rock hard. She examined the jacketâbasic, but warm-looking.
"So this is what a standard survivor starts with."
At least the system had thought of everything. Including the underwear. She'd half-expected to wake up naked in the snow; at least she didn't have to worry about that.
She stored everything in her inventory, then shrugged on the field jacket.
The temperature shift was brutal. Even those few seconds exposed had left her hands numb. Hypothermia would set in fast out here.
Jacket on, she hurried back to the campfire. She pulled the five units of Kindling from her inventory and tossed them onto the flames.
The fire roared higher. Warmth flooded over her.
"Fuel added. Remaining Burn Time: 10:28:00"
Ten hours.
If she didn't move fast, in ten hours she'd freeze to death on this ice field.
And the game had made it clearâif the fire died, the system would judge her dead. Whether she actually froze or not.
Riley lifted her head and scanned the landscape.
She was in a sparse coniferous forest. Barely alive trees, crusted with frost, dotted the area not far from her position.
"Wood."
A slow smile spread across her face. She patted the toolbox beside her.
"Other people might have axes. But felling a tree with just an axe takes hours. Exhausts you."
She unlatched the box. Pulled out the chainsaw. Checked the battery gaugeâfull.
"I've got a handsaw in here too. And a chainsaw with a full charge."
The battery wouldn't last forever. But it would last long enough to give her a massive head start. In this race for survival, that was everything.
Chapter 2 The Chainsaw
The wind screamed across the open ground, picking up loose snow and flinging it against her goggles like sand. It sounded like static.
Riley had pulled her basic work gear from the toolbox before heading out. Now she stood in the snow, surrounded by clusters of thin conifers that looked half-dead already.
She took a breath. The air burned going down.
"Zzzzzzzâ!!!"
She squeezed the trigger. The orange-and-black lithium-ion chainsaw in her hands roared to life, the chain spinning so fast it blurred. She buried the teeth in the nearest pine trunk.
Wood chips exploded everywhere.
Fragrant shavingsâstill wet with resinâscattered across the pristine snow, stark and yellow against all that white.
Five seconds.
Crack.
The pine tree, thick as her arm, groaned and tilted. Then it fell slow and heavy into a drift, sending up a puff of powder.
"God bless modern technology."
Riley shook out her wristâthe vibration had numbed her fingersâand allowed herself a small smile.
Without that chainsaw, with just the basic iron axe the system had given her, felling a tree frozen solid like this would have taken twenty minutes minimum. And it would have left her soaked with sweat.
In subzero temps, sweat was a death sentence. Once your base layers got wet, the moment you stopped moving, your body temperature would plummet. Hypothermia would follow fast.
Riley didn't waste time celebrating.
She knew the saw in her hands was a hungry machine. She'd brought two spare high-capacity batteries, sure, but until she found a way to recharge them, every second the motor ran was borrowed time. She had to gather as much wood as possible before the batteries gave out.
"ZzzzzâZzzzzâ"
At the edge of the forest, the chainsaw's snarl rose and fell, shattering the frozen silence.
Riley worked like she was possessed.
Fell a tree. Move to the next. Fell another.
But she had to stay alertâwatch for hidden snow pits underfoot, keep adjusting her collar against the wind that kept finding its way down her neck. Her stamina drained faster than she'd anticipated.
In extreme cold, body burned through calories just to stay alive. Added walking through knee-deep snow, where every step took three times the energy of walking on pavement, and the math got ugly fast.
Pretty soon, Riley was breathing hard. Her breath fogged the inside of her goggles, and she had to keep wiping them clear.
"Zzzzz..."
She was mid-cut on a treeâdidn't even know which number anymoreâwhen the chainsaw's roar stuttered. Died. The chain jammed solid in the wood.
A red light blinked at her.
Dead battery.
Riley yanked the saw free and patted its housing. "Good work, buddy." Genuine regret in her voice.
She straightened up and looked around.
Pine trunks lay scattered across the snow in every direction. A decent haul.
She counted silently.
"Twenty-three total."
Then the next problem hit her.
According to the system, until she actually possessed these logs, they were still just natural resources. That meant they didn't qualify for Inventory storage. She couldn't just snap her fingers and make them disappear.
She had to drag them back to camp.
Riley grabbed the nearest pine and tried to pull.
Heavy.
Like, unreasonably heavy.
Fresh-cut wood was full of moisture. Add the branches catching in the snow, dragging like anchors, and she felt like she was hauling a dead body through mud.
"Huff... huff..."
She gritted her teeth, looped rope around the trunk, slung it over her shoulder, leaned forward, and started walking. Inch by inch.
The tree line to her campfire was maybe fifty yards. Right now, it felt like fifty miles.
By the time she'd wrestled the fourth tree back into the fire's warm radius, she was wrecked.
Her legs felt like someone had filled them with concrete. Her lungs burned from hauling freezing air through them.
"Can't... can't do more."
Riley made the call. She stopped.
Those nineteen trees still out there in the snowâthey called to her. Tempted her. But if she kept pushing without rest, without fuel for herself, she'd collapse out there. And out there, collapse meant death.
She dropped down next to the big wooden crate that had held her starter supplies.
It was less than three feet from the campfire.
The flames danced orange and red, pumping out heat that felt like heaven.
The shift from frozen to warm made her shiver violently. She pulled off her goggles and thick gloves, set them near the fire to warm up, thenâstill shakingâpulled the half-empty water bottle from her Inventory. Took a small sip.
Then the bread. Two black bricks that looked more like construction material than food.
"Crunch."
Riley bit off a piece with effort. It was coarse. Tasted like sawdust with a hint of burnt toast. Bitter.
But it was calories. Carbs. Fuel for her own fire.
She forced herself to chew, swallow. When the food hit her stomach, warmth finally started spreading through her core. The uncontrollable shaking eased.
After half a loaf, Riley leaned back against the crate. Her eyelids drooped.
Post-exhaustion crash hit her like a wave.
The campfire crackled. The wind seemed farther away now. Muffled.
She really wanted to sleep...
Her head nodded. Her body started sliding sideways.
"Waitâ"
Some animal instinct jolted her awake just before she went under.
She pinched her thigh. Hard. Then looked up at the timer floating above the flames.
"Shelter Level 1
"Campfire Burn Time Remaining: 06:28:00"
Six and a half hours.
If she slept too deep, too long, and that fire went outâwhat then?
Even ignoring the obviousâthat she'd freeze to death in this hellhole without a heat sourceâthe game rules were clear.
When the campfire hits zero, it's game over.
"No sleeping. Not allowed."
Riley slapped her own cheeks, forced herself upright.
She stayed near the fire, but she didn't take off her heavy work clothes. She remembered reading something once, a survival article. "In the late stages of hypothermia, your hypothalamus malfunctions. You get a false sensation of heat. It's called "paradoxical undressing"âpeople strip down right before they freeze to death."
"Okay. Process these four. Keep the fire fed."
She pulled a traditional handsaw from the toolbox.
Looking at the four thick pine logs on the ground, she almost laughed. Without power tools, breaking these down into burnable pieces would take at least half an hour. Burn the little energy she had left.
But what choice did she have?
Riley knelt in the snow, positioned the blade against the trunk, and was about to start cuttingâ
A soft white light shot out from the system panel on her chest. It washed over the logs.
"Ding!
"Detected felled, intact logs within shelter range.
"Perform quick recovery?"
Riley's hand froze mid-saw.
Quick recovery?
It took her a second to process. Then relief flooded through her so hard she almost cried.
"Yes! Recover!" She didn't hesitate.
The next moment, something impossible happened.
The four pine trunksâthe ones she'd have to saw and split by hand, the ones that represented hours of brutal laborâdissolved into pale blue light particles.
Not into dust. Into neat, uniform logs that stacked themselves automatically in her Inventory. The branches, the needles, all the useless partsâpurified out of existence.
"Recovery successful!
"Obtained: Common Wood x20"
Riley's eyes went wide, staring at the perfect lumber in her inventory display. Looked like it came straight from a hardware store.
"One tree gives five units of wood?
"And I don't have to cut it myself?"
This changed everything.
It meant she only had to handle the felling and the dragging. Once a log crossed into her camp's boundary, the system recognized it as hers. The most time-consuming partâthe processingâjust... didn't exist anymore.
Riley immediately grabbed five units of wood and fed them to the fire.
Whoosh.
The flames leaped, hungry and grateful.
"Fuel added.
"Campfire Burn Time Remaining: 12:20:00"
"Five logs, five hours..."
She did the math fast, looking at the fifteen units still on the ground. If she threw all of those in, that'd be another fifteen hours. Total of twenty-seven.
She could sleep like the dead right now, and that fire would still be burning when she woke up.
Security.
For the first time since the world ended, Riley felt something like security.
She selected the remaining wood. Deposited it all.
Watched the countdown tick up to a very comfortable "27:20:00".
Then her nerves finally let go.
She dragged one of the toolboxes into position to block the wind, wrapped the field jacket tight around herself, pulled her hat down over her eyes, leaned back against the warm crate, and let the crackle of the fire pull her under.
*****
She didn't sleep long.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky was still that same dull gray-white. Impossible to tell if it was morning or afternoon.
System clock said three hours.
Her body ached. Shoulders and arms especiallyâfelt like she'd gone ten rounds with someone. But her head was clear.
She stretched her stiff neck and stood up.
The snow seemed lighter. The feathery flakes had tapered off into sporadic icy grains.
Riley ate a little more, got some fuel back in the tank, then stepped outside the campfire's warmth.
The fire's effect wasn't what she'd expected. It wasn't that the temperature gradually dropped as you moved away. It was sharper than that. Like there was an invisible barrier around the flames. Inside, livable. Outside, the cold hit you like a wall.
She wandered a little way off. The cold found every gap in her clothing.
She thought about going farther, exploring. But there was nothing visible except that stand of trees she'd already worked. Maybe stuff was buried under the snow, but she couldn't see it.
"No proper snow boots. Not going far."
Riley glanced at the endless white distance with real regret.
"Don't get greedy. Get those nineteen trees first."
She turned. Looked at the woods.
Her loot was still out there.
And now she knew: if she could drag them back into the campfire's circle, the system would cash them out automatically.
"Time to work."
Riley rubbed her hands together. Let the motivation build.
For the next few hours, she became a machine.
Drag a tree to camp. Recover it. Go back for another. Repeat.
It was boring. Exhausting. But watching those logs turn into numbers in her inventoryâthat feeling was hard to describe. Satisfying, in a way nothing had been satisfying in a long time.
When the last pine trunk crossed into the light and dissolved into particles, Riley just collapsed. Lay flat in the snow and stared at the gray sky.
She pulled up her Inventory.
The once-empty slots were full now. Stack after stack of wood icons.
"Item: Common Wood
"Quantity: 80
"Description: Basic survival resource. Can be used for fuel or construction."
Eighty units.
Plus what was already burning in the campfire. Her day's work had yielded a clean hundred.
One unit of wood burned for one hour.
Riley looked at the flames dancing in front of her. Felt the heat on her face. Let herself smile, wide and real.
"One hundred hours."
Four full days.
While everyone else was probably still panicking. Crying. Begging. Trying to figure out how to survive their first night in this frozen nightmare...
She, Riley, had enough fuel stockpiled to last four days.
Which meant: for the next ninety-six hours, unless she actively chose to die, nobody and nothing could put her fire out.
She pulled the half-empty water bottle from Inventory. The space must have been insulated somehowâthe water was still warm. Almost body temperature.
She sipped it. Tasted sweet, even though it was just tap water.
"Okay. Next step."
Her gaze settled on the "Upgrade" button on the campfire panel.
This open-air setup was fine for now. But if she was going to survive long-term, she needed something better. A real shelter.
All she needed was a little stone. Some coal. Some steel.
Then she could build something worth calling home.
Chapter 3 The Trading Game
The blizzard howled outside, but within the six-foot radius of the campfire, the air stayed surprisingly warmâlike the wind had hit an invisible wall and just couldn't reach.
Riley leaned back against the dusty wooden crate, holding the half-empty water bottle in her hand. She stared into the flames for a moment, then focused her attention inward. The pale blue system panel unfolded in front of her eyes again.
Now that the immediate crisis was handled, she finally had time to sit quietly and really explore this so-called "Survival System".
Beyond the personal stats and inventory, the bottom of the panel had a row of function icons: Server Channel, Friends List, Trading Market, and Crafting Manual.
Friends List was empty. No surprise there. She hadn't exactly been a social butterfly back in the old world, and she sure as hell wasn't going to make friends easily in a frozen hellscape where everyone was fighting for their next breath.
She tapped into the "Server Channel".
A line of numbers appeared in the top left.
"Server: US-008
"Current Online: 9911/10000"
Ten thousand people started. Less than ten hours in, eighty-nine were already gone.
"That doesn't add up."
Everyone's starter crate came with a rusty iron axe and five units of wood. Plus the initial fuel the campfire had when they arrivedâthat alone bought them ten hours minimum, even if they just sat there doing nothing.
What the hell did those people do to get eliminated so fast?
The channel was moving fast, messages scrolling by every second. Desperation dripped from every line.
"Someone help, I'm freezing my ass off out here. This stupid axe can't cut sh*tâevery swing just bounces off and rattles my whole arm. Can anyone spare a couple logs? My dad's a senior VP at Walker Group. I'll wire you a million dollars when we get back, I swear."
"Wake up, buddy. If your dad's still alive, he's out there chopping trees right now too."
"Don't even talk to me. I spotted a wooden crate in the snow earlier, got all excited, ran overâand before I got within ten feet, some white rabbit thing jumped out of a drift. Teeth like needles. Almost took a chunk out of my leg. Missed the crate, wasted all that energy for nothing."
"I saw that too! Random crates spawn in the wild. I opened a wooden one and got two chocolate bars and some coal."
Reading through the chaos, Riley picked out two keywords, "Random Reward Crates" and "Dangerous Creatures".
So this world was deeper than she thought. Wooden crates, copper cratesâthese randomly spawning resource points were the real way to get ahead.
Coal came from crates. That was useful to know.
And if coal was in crates, steel probably was too.
But something bothered her. According to what people were saying, reward crates weren't exactly rare. So why hadn't she found a single one during her lumber run?
She doubted it was just bad luck.
Riley exited chat and tapped into the "Trading Market".
"Seller: MountainMan88 Item: Stone x2 Wants: White Bread x5"
"Seller: LoneWolf_21 Item: Cotton Cloth Wants: Clean Water"
"Seller: NotDeadYet Item: Wood x3 Wants: Anything edible"
Most people were trading for food and wood. The stuff that kept you alive right now. Things like stone and cloth were getting dumped cheapânobody had the luxury of thinking long-term.
Riley looked at her own inventory. Eighty units of wood staring back at her. Her heart beat a little faster.
In this opening phase, where wood literally meant the difference between life and death, the resources in her hands were basically gold bars.
"Time to trade," she muttered to herself. "Coal, steelâcan't get those from chopping trees. And right now, wood's at maximum value. If I wait, the exchange rate shifts."
Even with the chainsaw dead, she still had the handsaw. Less efficient, sure, but she could gather more wood if she needed it. Short-term, she wasn't going to run out.
She clicked to post a message in the channel.
"System Prompt: Detected that you have not set a virtual ID. Please enter your nickname (cannot be changed after setting)."
Riley stared at the blank input box. Naming things was the worst.
She sat there for a long time, nothing coming to mind.
Finally, she gave up. Couldn't think of anything cool or clever, so she'd just go with something random.
Her fingers tapped across the virtual keyboardâSpicyBurger.
"Setting successful. ID locked."
The prompt closed. Riley posted her message.
"SpicyBurger: Selling wood in bulk. Looking for: Coal, Steel, High-calorie food. DM me with offersâwhat you have and your rate. Good deals go fast, don't sleep on this."
For three seconds after the message appeared, the channel went dead silent. Then it exploded.
"SpicyBurger? That name's making me hungry, what the hell."
"Never mind the nameâ'wood in bulk'! We got a whale in here! Everyone else is stressing about the next hour and this person's already running a business?"
"I need some! My campfire's down to like two hours. I don't know if I actually die when it hits zero but I don't wanna find out."
Suddenly, half the channel was scrambling for wood.
But then the skeptics crawled out.
"Hang on. Everyone started with the same rusty axe. Chopping a tree in this weather takes twenty, thirty minutes minimum. Where's she getting 'bulk' wood from? Sounds like a scam."
"InvincibleWarrior: Everybody chill. Look at that IDâsounds like a girl's handle. I'm a grown man, been busting my ass, and I've only got like ten logs saved up. My hands are shredded. Some girl with a food name claims she's got bulk? She's trying to run a game. Scam people out of their stuff."
"Iron_Tough: Agreed. Scammers made it through the apocalypse too, I guess. My advice: ignore her. Don't get played. How much wood can a woman chop anyway? Probably can't even lift the axe right, lol."
Riley scrolled through the messages, expression flat. She almost laughed.
But some people pushed back.
"FishHater44: How is it a scam? If she doesn't deliver, you don't complete the trade. Just 'cause you can't chop that much wood doesn't mean nobody can."
Riley nodded slightly. That one had a point.
But she didn't waste energy arguing in the channel. Instead, she flipped on Do Not Disturb for private messagesâonly allowing chat requests that included a trade offer.
Some people didn't actually care whether she had wood. They just couldn't stand seeing someone else do well.
"Ding. Ding. Ding."
Private messages started pouring in like rain.
Most players weren't idiots. Faced with the very real threat of freezing to death, they'd try anything for a chance.
Riley opened the first one.
"Windwalker: I got "Coal x3" from a crate. How much wood can I get for it? I can't chop anymore. The wind out here is insane. I tried to throw the coal in my fire but it just kept popping back out. System says my campfire level's too low, won't let me use it. I'm out of wood. My fire's almost dead."
Riley thought for a moment. "Three coal for five wood. Deal?"
She hadn't known about that restriction. Coal was supposed to be better fuel than woodâdidn't expect the game to lock it behind a level gate.
The reply came instantly, "Deal. But five wood feels light. It's coal."
The guy was conflicted. He knew coal had value, but he was desperate.
"I'll make it six. Final offer."
Riley wasn't sure about coal's real value yet. Six was her limit.
"Fine. Deal."
They both dropped their items into the trade window. A moment later, it completed.
A flash of white light. Riley's inventory lost six wood. Gained three chunks of coal, each about the size of a small melon.
One down.
"CrunchyFrog: Hey, I got two "Iron Ingots" from a crate. System calls them "Scrap Steel". Can I get eight wood for them? Trying to stock up enough to sleep through the night."
Riley replied, "Sure. Initiate."
In just over ten minutes, her wood stockpile dropped significantly. But her inventory filled up with good stuff.
"Coal x10
"Stone x23
"Scrap Steel x5
"Raw Meat x2
"White Bread x2
"Basic Torch Blueprint x1"
The blueprint was new. The description said it was required for crafting certain items. Seemed useful, so she'd traded for it.
Meanwhile, back in the channel, that "InvincibleWarrior" guy who'd been mocking her earlier seemed to notice that people were actually completing trades. His tone got bitter.
"InvincibleWarrior: Whatever. She probably got lucky with a high-tier crate. Let's see how long her stock lasts. Once the wood's gone, she'll be begging me to let her join my group."
The people who'd successfully traded with Riley popped into the channel to thank her. That might have been fineâexcept the thanks caused problems.
Since Riley had stopped trading for now, most people hadn't gotten anything. And the sky was darkening. Temperature outside the campfire radius was dropping fast. Gathering wood was getting harder. Trading was their only hope.
The ones who'd pinned everything on Riley, seeing her stop, started losing it.
"You said 'in bulk'! You did like five trades and quit. What are we supposed to do now?"
"Keep trading! My fire's almost out. You want us to go chop trees in the dark?"
"If you couldn't deliver, why'd you post? Showing off and then hiding."
Whether it was coordinated or just genuine rage, the number of people defending Riley in the channel shrank fast. Mostly it was attacks now. Accusations of being irresponsible. Using scarcity tactics. Playing games with people's lives.
Riley closed the channel. She couldn't be bothered.
In a life-or-death situation like this, people losing it was normal. If she actually had unlimited resources, she'd trade more. But she didn't. And back on Earth, nobody had ever handed her anything out of charity. She wasn't about to start playing savior now.
She looked down at the "Basic Torch Blueprint" in her inventory.
"Requirements: Wood x10, Kerosene, Scrap Steel x2" Note: Requires Level 2 Workbench to craft."
She leaned back against the crate again. Felt the weight of her stockpile pressing back against that lingering sense of unease.
In this world, your ID didn't matter. Your gender didn't matter either.
What mattered was who held the resources.
She looked at what she had left: 36 units of wood. Plus the steel, coal, and stone from trading.
Time to plan.
Upgrading to a Level 2 campfire required 55 wood. She had all the other materials. For the wood, she'd just have to use the handsaw tomorrow and gather a little more.
That settled, she pulled a few more logs from inventory and arranged them on top of the crate, making a small enclosed space. Curled up inside it, she watched the sky outside slowly darken to black.
Her eyes grew heavy. She drifted off.
Chapter 4 The Culling
Riley woke to the kind of soreness that made you reconsider ever moving again.
She'd slept like the deadâno dreams, no blizzard, just nothing. When she opened her eyes, the first things she saw were the logs she'd stacked as a windbreak and the steady glow of the campfire.
She tried to stretch.
Big mistake.
Every muscle in her body lit up at once, screaming in protest.
"Sh*t."
Riley sucked air through her teeth and pressed a hand to her aching shoulder. Her lower back felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to it.
Yesterday's work had been too much. She wasn't weakâfar from itâbut she was still human. The lactic acid had settled in overnight, and now she moved like an arthritic tin man.
At least she was alive.
She stowed the windbreak logs back in her inventory and looked around.
The world hadn't changed. Same dull gray sky. Same swirling snow. Outside the six-foot radius of the fire, the drifts looked deeper than yesterday. The wind had been busy.
Riley pulled out the half-empty water bottle and wet her throat. Then she retrieved the white bread she'd traded for yesterday.
Compared to that dense, flavorless black bread, this was practically cake. She tore off small pieces, letting the faint sweetness dissolve on her tongue, and habitually opened the "Server Channel".
She stopped chewing.
The number in the top left hit her like a physical blow.
"Current Online Players: 4968/10000"
"Five thousand..."
Riley's eyes went wide.
In a single night, that number had been cut in half.
Five thousand people. Gone. Winked out of existence on this frozen ice field while she slept.
"Ding."
The system notification cut through her thoughtsâcold, emotionless, like it was announcing the weather.
"Global Announcement: Congratulations to all survivors for successfully surviving the first day.
"This was a culling. Last night eliminated those fools who failed to add fuel to their fires or refused to gather wood. Remember: in this place, tears mean nothing. When you die here, you're dead-dead.
"You who remain are the lucky ones.
"Grace Period: A five-day 'New Player Support Period' now begins. For the next five days, your initial supply crates will refresh daily with a fixed amount of food.
"Special Reward: Each survivor receives one pair of "Standard Issue Snow Boots (Common)". Be grateful for this mercy. Enjoy the game."
The words sat there on her screen.
Fools. Mercy. The system's tone dripped with contempt.
The math was simple. Starting package: five hours of fuel. Initial gift: five units of wood, another five hours. Total ten hours, if you did absolutely nothing.
The ones who'd frozen to death last nightâthey were the ones who'd clung to hope. The ones too scared to move. The ones who'd told themselves someone would save them.
Five thousand people. One night. Gone.
This wasn't a game. It was a slaughter.
In the channel, the survivors who'd made it through were clearly rattled by the numbers too.
"Holy sh*t... My friend's icon went dark last night. Does that mean he's dead? Actually dead?"
"I can't do this. I don't wanna play anymore, I wanna go home. I swear I'll work today. I'll chop wood, I'll do whatever, just pleaseâ"
"Everyone move! Don't save your strength! If you die, that's it. No respawns!"
Panic spread fast. But almost immediately, the tone shifted. The fear found a target.
"That SpicyBurgerâif she'd shared more wood yesterday, would so many people have died?"
"For real. If she had extra, why not just give it away? Why did it have to be trades? She could've at least loaned some out."
"This is what happens when people hoard resources and watch others freeze. Remember that name. Don't trade with her. Ever."
Riley frowned.
Here we go again.
She scrolled up. Sure enough, there it wasâthat familiar ID: "InvincibleWarrior".
He was going hard in the channel. "She's profiting off suffering. That's what some people do. Women like that are the worstâhoarding supplies while people die around them. Wait and see. Someone like her won't last."
Riley laughed. Actually laughed out loud.
Moral blackmail. In the apocalypse.
She typed, "If you want wood, go cut it yourself. I'm not your mommy. No amount of crying in chat is gonna put logs in your inventory. You'd get more done if you just picked up your d*mn axe."
The channel went quiet for a second. Then the reasonable voices piped up.
"She's right. Nobody owes you anything. Work for it."
"Exactly. Just 'cause someone's quiet doesn't mean they're an easy target."
In a world where staying alive took everything you had, expecting charity was the dumbest move of all.
Riley didn't waste more energy on it. People like thatâthe more you engaged, the more they thrived. Let him run his mouth. She had bigger things to worry about.
She closed the channel and turned to the big wooden crateâher initial supply point.
Sure enough, new items had materialized inside.
"Bottled Water x3
"White Bread x3
"Fresh Orange Juice x1
"Standard Snow Boots x1"
"Orange juice?" Riley picked up the bottle, genuinely surprised. The orange liquid inside sloshed gently. Vitamins. The system was actually giving them vitamins.
She pulled off her old shoesâalready damp and coldâand swapped into the new boots. They were clunky, sure. But they gripped the snow, and the insulation was real. The chill that had been seeping up through her soles disappeared instantly.
Next, she opened her toolbox. Goggles on. Thick cut-resistant gloves. Head-to-toe gear.
"Time to work."
The channel noise faded from her mind. She had one priority today, and it wasn't arguing with idiots.
She picked up the chainsaw and headed back to the tree line.
The cold played tricks on batteries. She'd known that, intellectually. But knowing it and feeling it were different things.
After just eight trees, the last spare battery gave out. The chainsaw stuttered, died, and went silent in her hands.
Riley stared at it. "Son of a b*tch."
Chapter 5 Dead Battery
Riley stared at the dead chainsaw in her hands and shook her head. Without power, it was just an expensive paperweight.
If she wanted more wood, she'd have to do it the old-fashioned wayâpick up the axe or the manual handsaw from the toolbox and go to war with frozen timber.
But eight more trees were eight more trees. Her stockpile was looking healthy.
"First things first. Get these back."
She sucked it up, stowed the chainsaw in her inventory, and started hauling.
Her body screamed even louder than yesterday. Every muscle felt like it had been replaced with concrete. She dragged each log back one at a time, moving like a zombie.
Drag. Rest two minutes. Drag again.
The wind howled in her ears. Riley lost track of time, lost track of everything except the mechanical rhythm of work.
By the time the sun was highânot that you could really see it through the cloudsâshe dragged the last log into the campfire's radius. It dissolved into light, absorbed by the system. Riley all but collapsed into the snow.
"Acquired: Wood x40"
She lay there for a moment, chest heaving, staring at the number in her inventory. A tired smile crept across her face.
She had enough.
Combined with the coal and steel from yesterday's trades, she had everything she needed for the upgrade.
Riley forced herself upright and walked to the campfire.
On the floating translucent panel, the "Upgrade" button glowed that tempting gold.
"Upgrade Primitive Shelter to Lv.2?
"Cost: Wood x50, Stone x20, Coal x10, Scrap Steel x5
"Remaining after upgrade: Wood x16, Stone x3, Coal x0, Steel x0"
"Upgrade."
Riley took a breath and pressed it.
"Hmmmmâ!"
A blinding white light erupted from the heart of the campfire, swallowing everything. Riley squeezed her eyes shut.
No explosion. No thunder. Just a sound like Legos snapping together.
A few seconds later, the light faded.
Riley opened her eyes. And stopped breathing.
The campfire wasn't just a campfire anymore.
The rough stone ring had transformed into something neat and intentionalâa proper firepit with a stone border for insulation, a place to set things, even a simple steel grate attached to the side.
But that wasn't the big news. The heat that used to push back the cold within a six-foot radius now stretched a full fifteen feet.
Inside that circle, snow was actively melting, revealing dark frozen soil underneath. In one corner, she spotted a patch of moss stubbornly poking through.
Riley spun around.
Behind the big wooden crate, a small log cabin stood waiting.
It wasn't muchâmaybe forty feet square, built from rough-hewn logs. Nothing fancy. But it was solid. Four walls and a roof, blocking wind and snow completely.
Riley walked over and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Warm air hit her face.
Inside was simple: a wooden bed frame piled with dry grass, a crude workbench, a chair, and a small fireplace connected to a chimney that ran up through the roof.
Rustic. But right now, it was heaven.
Wood and fire. Four walls. A roof.
Home.
Riley ran her hand along the rough wall. Her eyes stung a little. She wouldn't have to sleep in the open anymore. Wouldn't have to wake up every few hours to check the fire. Wouldn't have to worry about freezing to death in her sleep.
Right on cue, the server announcement chimed. Gold text this time, blazing right in the center of everyone's vision.
"Server Announcement: Congratulations to player SpicyBurger for being the first to achieve "Level 2 Shelter". Rewards have been distributed."
The chat channel, which had been wallowing in fear and despair, exploded.
"Holy sh*t? Level 2 already? What does Level 2 unlock? Can you post pics, big shot?"
"That's the wood seller from yesterday? No way. Absolute legend."
"Carry me please! SpicyBurger, I'll be your loyal follower. I can cook, I can clean, I canâ"
"Teach us, master! How'd you gather materials so fast? What's your secret?"
Compliments. Pleas. Desperate attempts to get noticed.
And then, of course, the sour grapes.
"InvincibleWarrior: Big deal. Just profiteering off everyone else's suffering. If she'd shared that wood instead of selling it, maybe those five thousand people would still be alive. How does it feel to climb on corpses?"
"GodLovesMeFirst: Seriously. Building your success on other people's deaths. Karma's real. She'll get hers."
Riley's jaw tightened.
If InvincibleWarrior had been standing in front of her right now, she'd have knocked his teeth out. Guys like himâuseless themselves, but always ready to tear down anyone who actually accomplished something. Sewer rats.
Her private messages exploded too.
She'd set it to only accept trade offers, but people had found a workaroundâusing the "trade note" function to send spam.
"Hey beautiful, I'm a personal trainer. Great shape. Wanna see? Hit me with some wood and I'll do a voice call with you!"
A photo of some guy flexing in a mirror, shirt off.
Riley glanced at it, unimpressed. Decent abs. Pathetic attitude. Dude was clearly strong enough to chop woodâwhy was he wasting time on this?
She'd never mentioned her gender, so most people probably assumed anyone who'd gathered that much wood must be a guy. The messages reflected that assumption.
Some women sent selfies too, trying to flirt their way into favor.
Didn't matter. Shameless cut across all demographics.
From the backgrounds in the photos, everyone seemed to be in different locations. But one thing was consistent: they all had trees nearby. The system must have arranged thatâa new player perk.
"A bunch of degenerates."
Riley's face went cold. She changed her privacy settings to "Friends Only". Then she added a line to her trading post description. "No spam. Send junk, get blocked."
Silence. Blessed silence.
She took a breath, let the noise drain away, and focused on what mattered.
"First-place upgrade reward..."
She opened her inventory. Sitting there, glowing faintly purple, was a gift box.
She excitedly opened the gift box, only to find that inside was...
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