The sky was dim and overcast. Even though it had rained for three days straight, the air still carried a suffocating stench of decay.
Song Ya gripped a rusted machete in her hand. Sticky black blood clung to the blade, giving off a foul odor.
She was already exhausted, yet her hand continued hacking at people in mechanical repetition.
Eight years into the apocalypse, what had begun as natural disasters had evolved into the current nightmare.
At first, there was extreme weather. Then came typhoons, flash floods, tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions!!
It felt like nature’s punishment upon humanity.
After enduring all of it, most people’s bodies began to change. Some couldn’t withstand it and turned into fleshless, mindless killing monsters known as Plunderers. Others awakened special abilities and became ability users.
Song Ya was one of those ability users. Her power was replication.
But the ability was rather useless. Even if she copied someone else’s power, she could only unleash at most one-third of its original strength. And using abilities required mental energy—she could copy up to three at a time.
“Slash—”
A sharp blade pierced through her chest. The metallic taste of blood spread across her tongue, yet she felt no pain. After living this long, she was too tired. Now, she could finally be free…
“Ring—ring—ring—”
A shrill ringtone shattered the silence.
Song Ya jolted awake from her dream and shot upright in bed. Around her were no longer broken bricks and ruined walls, but a perfectly intact room.
Was it a dream?
She grabbed the phone at her bedside and glanced at the screen.
2022.9.15.
Two weeks before the apocalypse!
A headache throbbed as she clutched her head, suddenly unable to tell whether the flood of images in her mind were memories or dreams.
Crackling electricity suddenly sparked in her palm, snapping her back to reality.
She lowered her head and stared at her hand.
Wasn’t this the ability she had copied during the apocalypse?
Since she could only copy three abilities at a time, the first one she chose had been a powerful lightning ability for self-defense. The second was spatial storage, which held the food and weapons her team scavenged—basically a mobile suitcase.
The third had always been swapped depending on the situation. Before she died, it had been a plant-growth ability.
After eight years of apocalypse, food had grown increasingly scarce. Their team once knew a girl who could stimulate plant growth—so long as there were seeds, she could make them sprout, take root, and bear fruit. In the apocalypse, that was an incredibly precious ability, so her team protected her heavily.
They had sent Song Ya to copy it.
Though the copied version was weaker than the original girl’s power, it was still usable.
A bitter smile tugged at Song Ya’s lips.
She hadn’t expected to be reborn two weeks before the apocalypse.
She drew in a deep breath, and her eyes suddenly turned resolute. Fortunately, she had copied the spatial ability back then. During the apocalypse it might have seemed somewhat mediocre—but now? It was an absolute treasure!
She had to stockpile enough supplies before the apocalypse arrived!
She checked the time again. It was 2022.9.15.
There was still time!
She began rummaging through her things and finally found a bank card tucked in the innermost part of a drawer. Back then, she had stubbornly refused to touch the money in this card out of pride. When the apocalypse came, however, money became nothing but useless scraps of paper.
Song Ya tightened her grip on the card and took a deep breath. After surviving eight years in the apocalypse, she had long cast aside her former arrogance. Being alive was all that mattered!
When she was still young, her father had divorced her mother for money and married into a wealthy conglomerate family. Her mother raised her until she turned eighteen, then fell gravely ill and passed away. Later, her father was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Before he died, he sent someone to deliver a card containing ten billion yuan as compensation for all those years.
Without a trace of hesitation, Song Ya acted. After surviving so long in the apocalypse, the first lesson she learned was to be swift and decisive. Thinking too much only wasted time—especially now, when it was still before the end.
She drove to a warehouse complex in the suburbs. Because it was far from the city center and a massive fire had broken out there a few months ago, nearly all the warehouses were vacant.
She found the person in charge and said she wanted to rent all their warehouses—ten in total. Since there had been a fire, few dared to rent them. Even though they had been repaired and the prices repeatedly lowered, no one had shown interest.
When the manager saw her, he felt as if she were a savior sent from above and quickly agreed.
“There was a fire here before, so I’m a bit concerned. Let’s sign a three-month contract first. If nothing happens within three months, we can renew. How does that sound?” Song Ya asked.
Warehouses were usually rented for at least a year, and these ten were enormous, so the cost was naturally high. Though the apocalypse was only half a month away, she worried that asking for just one month would make the owner refuse. So she compromised with three months.
“No problem at all,” the manager readily agreed. Every empty day meant wasted time for them. Now that a big client had finally appeared, they had to seize the opportunity.
Song Ya immediately requested the contract and transferred two million yuan.
After securing the warehouses, she headed straight to the agricultural wholesale market. She found the largest store and walked in.
“Boss, I want to buy out everything you have here. How much?”
The boss paused his work and patiently explained, “This is the largest rice and flour supplier in the city. There’s still a lot in storage. Altogether, it won’t be cheap.”
Song Ya had no patience for small talk. “How much?”
“At least this much.” The boss raised one finger.
Ten million?
“Give me your account number. I’ll transfer five million as a deposit first. As long as it’s edible, I want it all. How long will it take you to gather everything?” she asked.
Seeing her serious expression, the boss was half doubtful.
He gave her his account number. Within moments, five million was transferred in. Only then did he realize he had truly met a major client.
He quickly dropped his casual demeanor and said, “Three days. I guarantee everything will be ready. We’ll calculate the final price once all the goods arrive.”
Song Ya took a pen and paper, wrote down the warehouse address and her phone number. “Deliver everything here once it’s ready. Put it in Warehouses 1 and 2.”
“Sure. But miss, what are you buying so much rice and flour for? It can be stored for a long time, but after a few years, the taste won’t be as good.” It was his first time encountering such a customer, and he couldn’t help but ask.
“There was an earthquake in S City recently. My company sent me to purchase supplies for relief efforts,” Song Ya casually lied.
In truth, the apocalypse had already begun—it just hadn’t spread to their area yet.
Unfortunately, in her previous life, no one had imagined that this disaster would become global.