Chapter 02

“Youngie?” Mom’s warm voice came through the speaker. “Is everything alright, sweetie? You sound out of breath.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Mom… I’m okay. I just missed your voice.”

“What’s wrong, honey? Did Arthur’s family say something unkind again?” Her concern was instant. “You know you can always come home. The old farmhouse is still here for you.”

In my first life I had drifted away from her because Arthur had quietly convinced me that staying close to an aging foster mother in the countryside made me look unrefined in front of his family. I had abandoned the only woman who ever truly loved me for a nest of vipers.

“Mom,” I said, wiping my cheek, “I’m coming home tonight. I’m moving my research equipment to the valley.”

“Tonight? Youngie, what about your husband?”

“I’ll explain everything when I get there.” My voice was firm. “I love you. Please make sure the old barn is cleared out.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll make your favorite soup.”

I hung up and drew a slow breath.

[DIMENSIONAL SPACE: LEVEL 1]

Fertile Land: 100 Sq. Meters (Standard Growth Rate)

Time-Stasis Storage: Basic Vault (Items stored will not spoil)

Upgrade Requirement: Stockpile basic survival supplies (0/10 Tons)

The space was small—only a hundred square meters of dark soil and a modest storage room—but it was mine. No one could steal it. No one could chain me inside it.

I hailed a taxi and went straight to the city’s largest wholesale distribution district.

The warehouse yards roared with trucks and shouting workers. I walked into the sales office of the primary food distributor and pulled out my bank card.

“I need bulk orders,” I told the middle-aged clerk behind the desk. “Delivered to a warehouse address in the southern valley by tomorrow morning.”

She looked up, taking in my office clothes. “Bulk orders? How much are we talking about, dear? We usually sell to grocery stores.”

“Five hundred cases of instant noodles. Two tons of white rice. Two tons of flour. One ton of dried beans. Five hundred cases of canned beef, fish, and vegetables. And three hundred cases of large bottled water.”

Her jaw dropped. “Five hundred cases? Two tons of rice? Miss, that’s over thirty thousand dollars in food alone. Are you stocking a supermarket?”

“I’m managing supply logistics for a private agricultural foundation,” I lied smoothly, offering a polite smile. “I can pay the full amount right now, including a rush delivery f*e if everything is loaded tonight.”

“Let me get the manager,” she stammered, scrambling out of her seat.

Within two hours I had signed three separate contracts across the district:

Staple foods: $40,000 on rice, flour, instant noodles, canned goods, cooking oil, salt, and sugar.

Clean water and storage: $20,000 on sealed water drums, hand pumps, and portable filtration units.

Basic medical supplies: $10,000 on first-aid kits, fever reducers, antibiotics, bandages, and burn ointment.

The apocalypse would begin with relentless heat and the collapse of the food chain. Rice, water, and medicine were what mattered.

By midnight the first delivery truck rolled up to my foster mother’s secluded farmhouse in the valley. Mom stood on the porch in her loose gown, watching wide-eyed as workers unloaded pallet after pallet into the large empty barn.

“Youngie…” She pulled me into a tight hug the moment the truck pulled away. “What is all this? Where did you get the money?”

I held her, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender soap that had always meant safety.

“I received a private research grant from an international agricultural institute,” I said softly. “The climate is changing fast. Droughts are coming. I’m building an emergency research station here, and I need your help managing it.”

She touched my face gently. “You don’t have to make up fancy excuses for me, sweetie. If you say we need this food, I trust you. But are you alright? You look exhausted. Are you really fine?”

“Not really, Mom,” I admitted. “But everything will be fine. Trust me.”

“Alright. I’ll trust you on this one.” She smiled and patted my head. “Don’t stand outside too long, dear. The heat these days is extraordinary.”

Of course it was. That heat was the first quiet warning of the apocalypse, but people still believed the government when it called the weather temporary.

Once she went inside to rest, I walked into the dark barn alone. I laid my hand on the first stack of crates and focused.

A soft golden ripple spread through the air.

[STORING SUPPLIES…]

In less than ten seconds half the wooden crates vanished from the barn floor and settled neatly into the clean storage space of my dimensional vault.

[STOCKPILING PROGRESS: 10/10 TONS]

[SPACE CAPACITY STABLE]

I looked at the ordered rows of boxes inside the space and felt a quiet, steady warmth settle in my chest.

Arthur had thought I was weak because I had no wealthy birth family to protect me. He had no idea that this time I was building my own fortress, step by step.

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The next morning at 8:30 I walked into the university agricultural research lab.

Chloe was already sitting at my desk, casually scrolling through my laptop while drinking an iced coffee. The moment the door opened she closed the screen a little too quickly and offered an innocent smile.

“Oh! Young! You’re early. I was just organizing your research data for the end-of-month review.”

In my past life I would have smiled and thanked her for being such a devoted assistant. Now I only saw the cold snake behind the sweet face.

“Chloe,” I said, setting my bag on the side table, “did you move the experimental heat-resistant seed samples from Vault 2?”

Her fingers twitched around the coffee cup. “Those? I put them in the deep-freeze unit yesterday afternoon. Arthur asked if he could see the safety documentation for the patent filing, so I prepared the files for him.”

She had already handed my research over to him—exactly as she had done in my previous life. They were quietly preparing to register the patent under Arthur’s name before the apocalypse even arrived.

“Is that so?” I asked casually, walking toward the main seed vault. “Arthur is very eager about my work.”

“Well, he is the director and your husband!” she laughed lightly. “He just wants to make sure your hard work is protected legally.”

Arthur. She called him by his first name.

How had I ever been so blind?

I unlocked the vault door, shielding the interior with my shoulder. With a single thought I transferred the true master genetic seed strains—the heat-resistant seeds I had spent five years perfecting—directly into my dimensional space. In their place I left dummy vials filled with ordinary, unmutated corn and wheat.

If they wanted to steal my life’s work, they were welcome to a handful of useless grain.

The lab door swung open. Arthur walked in carrying a paper bag from a high-end bakery.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” He smiled warmly and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

I turned my head just enough that his lips brushed my shoulder instead. He didn’t notice. His eyes flicked toward Chloe as he set the bag on my desk.

“I brought those strawberry pastries you like.”

Strawberry pastries. I had never liked them—they were too sweet. They were Chloe’s favorite. All those times I had told myself he was simply forgetful… it had always been a joke.

“Listen, Young,” he continued, leaning against the desk, “my mom was really upset last night after you left so suddenly. Clara was almost in tears about her venue.”

Chloe watched us over the rim of her cup, a quiet gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“Arthur,” I said softly, looking up at him with a carefully vulnerable expression, “I felt terrible about last night. I really want your mother and Clara to like me.”

His posture relaxed at once. A smug satisfaction settled over his face. “I know you do, honey. That’s why I told them you were just tired.”

“I was thinking about what your mother said.” My voice stayed gentle. “She told me an orphan girl like me should prove her loyalty to the family. And she’s right. You’ve done so much for me.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up. “So you’ll give Clara the fifteen thousand?”

“I want to do more than that.” I stepped closer and took his hand. “I want us to share everything. You know the townhouse your mother and brother are living in?”

He frowned, suddenly alert. “What about it?”

“You paid the down payment with our joint savings three years ago, but the title is only in your name. If you transfer half the ownership to me today, I can use the property as collateral for a fifty-thousand-dollar personal loan. We can cover Clara’s entire wedding and still have money left to improve your mother’s living conditions.”

Chloe stopped sipping her coffee. Her brow furrowed. That townhouse was where she and Arthur spent their weekends behind my back.

Arthur hesitated, caught between the lure of free cash and the desire to keep family property out of my reach. “Put your name on the deed? Young, my mom might get defensive if she thinks you’re trying to take her house…”

“Take her house?” I squeezed his hand, letting soft disappointment color my voice. “Arthur, I just want to help Clara. If I apply for the loan in my name, the bank requires proof of real-estate assets. If you don’t trust me after five years of marriage… then maybe your mother is right. Maybe I really don’t belong in this family.”

“No—no, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant!” He panicked at the thought of losing fifty thousand dollars. “Of course I trust you. You’re my wife.”

“Then let’s go to the property registry office at lunch.” I gave him a sweet, grateful smile. “We can add my name today, and I’ll apply for the loan tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed, relief washing over his face. “We’ll do it at noon.”

Behind him Chloe bit her lip, anxious but unable to speak without exposing everything.

I turned back to my desk and picked up a pen.

Transfer half the townhouse to my name?

No.

Once my name was on the deed as co-owner, I would immediately file for an emergency property buyout based on the unpaid taxes Arthur had ignored last year. With a fraction of the million dollars sitting in my private account I would purchase his remaining share and take full legal ownership of the house before the month ended.

When the Heat Apocalypse arrived and the city turned into an oven, Arthur’s arrogant mother and greedy brother would have no roof over their heads. They would stand in the dust and beg for shelter from the very orphan girl they had always looked down on.

They thought they had bent me until I broke.

They had no idea the world was about to bend around them.