An apocalypse driven by natural disasters.

Survival of the fittest.

Typhoons, floods, deadly cold, scorching heat, earthquakes, tsunamis, insect plagues, acid rain…

After struggling through three years of the apocalypse, Nicole Floyd met a brutal death. Miraculously, she woke up and found herself three days before it all began.

Nicole seized the advantage to reclaim her storage space, flipping the switch on full-on stockpiling mode. She shopped until she ran out of money, and her storage was packed tight.

She also looked for the dog that had saved her life once before.

She sharpened her knives, stacked her supplies, and took care of unfinished business. She paid back every debt, whether owed in blood or in kindness.

And then, disaster struck.

Her right hand gripping a knife and her left stroking the dog, Nicole pressed on through the ruins of a world without order or morals.

"Ah!"

Nicole Floyd jolted upright in bed, gasping. Sweat streamed down her forehead, her eyes unfocused and hollow.

The sight in front of her cut through the haze in her mind.

This was her old apartment, the one from before the apocalypse.

Ding, ding…

Text alerts kept chiming. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

September 14, 2029. 9:32 a.m.

Nicole had more than a dozen unread messages. All of them were warning about a super typhoon named Cleaver, projected to make landfall early on the 17th along the coast. There would be category-breaking winds and days of relentless rain.

Nicole stared at the screen, dazed.

Hadn't she died? She remembered dying in that cannibal world devoid of light. Had her refusal to accept it dragged her into some dying hallucination?

Ding!

Another alert came in, updated at 9:37 a.m.

Nicole twisted her arm hard. Pain shot up her nerves, sharp and real.

This wasn't a dream. She had been reborn, back to three days before the storm that cracked the world open.

No. To be exact, two and a half days.

Nicole didn't feel happy. The exhaustion had settled deep in her bones.

Typhoons, floods, deep freeze, extreme heat, earthquakes. One hell after another. What was there worth reliving?

And yet, she was back.

Was she supposed to sit still and wait to die all over again?

Not a chance!

Nicole splashed cold water on her face. The mirror showed a younger version of herself with smooth skin and clear eyes, no hollowed-out desperation yet.

For a moment, everything looked fine.

Her gaze dropped to the crystal pendant at her neck.

She had been wearing it when she was abandoned at the hospital as a newborn. Later, Edward Austin had taken it from her and given it to the school's beauty queen, Mary Cannon.

Three years into the apocalypse, Mary still looked flawless. Her clothes were clean, her skin rosy, as if the old world never ended for her.

Once, when Nicole collapsed from hunger, she saw Mary casually pull a vanilla ice cream bar out of that pendant and lick it, slow and unbothered.

Nicole's breath hitched.

She grabbed a blade, sliced her fingertip, and let a drop of blood fall onto the pendant.

A blinding light exploded.

When her vision cleared, she stood inside an empty apartment with no front door. There was running water and electricity, but no furniture.

The place had two bedrooms and a living room, totaling about 860 square feet. The ceilings were nearly 10 feet high. Next to the balcony was a small garden, roughly 110 square feet, filled with dark soil.

A glowing timer floated in the living room.

01:56:13.

This was the storage space that let Mary live like royalty. Or rather, the one she had tricked out of Nicole's hands.

When Nicole stepped out, the space stayed with her, embedded in her mind. The moment she focused, she could sense everything inside.

Nicole tested it with boiling water. Everywhere except the balcony and the garden kept things perfectly fresh.

She could store things using thought alone. When nobody entered physically, the timer froze. Once she stepped inside, it started counting down.

There wasn't time to unravel how it worked.

She had a second life and a storage space. That was enough for her to change her gruesome fate last time.

In her past life, she had survived only three years. She had no idea what disasters came after.

With that in mind, Nicole searched online for types of natural disasters. When she looked at the results filling the screen, she nearly collapsed on the spot.

Gosh, staying alive was hard!

Pushing aside the extra emotions, she took out a pen and notebook and started listing supplies.

Nicole grew up in an orphanage. It looked peaceful on the surface, but underneath, the fighting was constant. That place taught her early how to protect herself and never take a loss.

She had been insecure by nature. In elementary school, she collected cardboard and recyclables. In middle school, she worked part-time tutoring, doing homework for others, and cleaning bathrooms. As long as it paid, she did it.

She ranked near the top in every major exam. Even after getting into the medical program and reaching her sophomore year, she was still tutoring five seniors preparing for college. She charged 40 dollars per session.

Nicole had a nose for money. She had sold insurance and run a small video channel, chasing any legal hustle she could find. Over more than ten years, she had saved about 40 thousand dollars, thinking that if she kept going, she'd have enough for a down payment by graduation.

Now, it was all meaningless.

She was supposed to have classes in the afternoon and tutoring at night, but none of that mattered anymore.

She messaged the parents, saying she had been hospitalized and wouldn't be able to tutor for a long time. She asked them to find replacements and settle the fees.

Tutoring fees were paid every two weeks. The parents weren't short on money. Two of them even sent her 100 dollars as a get-well gift. Altogether, 1,200 dollars hit her account.

Before closing the chat, Nicole reminded them that a once-in-a-century typhoon was coming and that they should stock up on food and emergency medicine.

Natural disasters never came alone. Just the medication list alone filled three full pages. Many of those drugs were expensive, and some couldn't even be found in regular pharmacies.

Nicole snapped photos and sent them to a pharmaceutical sales rep who also happened to be her childhood friend.

[Urgent order for a big-spending client. Needs delivery tonight. Help me out with a serious discount.]

Jeremy Cross replied instantly. [Got it.]

Less than five minutes later, her phone rang.

"This list is weird as hell. Are you messing with me?" Jeremy asked.

"The money's already transferred. The only requirement is that everything arrives tonight," Nicole replied.

She had no time to argue. She hung up and sent ten thousand dollars with a note.

[Let me know if it's enough.]

There was too much to prepare.

Nicole grabbed her keys and headed out, then caught sight of the limited-edition Air Jordans sitting on the table. She almost wanted to smash her head into the wall.

She had always been practical.

Then she met Edward, and she completely lost her mind.

To pursue him, Nicole moved out of the dorms and rented an overpriced apartment near campus. She stood in line at dawn outside a sneaker store just to buy those shoes for him.

She never spent more than 60 dollars on her own shoes, but she didn't blink at dropping over 1,700 on those Jordans. And what did she get?

Edward accepted the gift, asked for her pendant, and never gave his answer to her confession. During the typhoon, he and Mary ate through all the food Nicole had stockpiled.

During three years of disasters, Edward had never helped Nicole once. When she was beaten and slaughtered by monsters, he only watched coldly from the side.

Had she known how it would end, she would've rather fed those Jordans to a dog than give them to him.

This time, Nicole wanted to see how well he and Mary could live without her supplies or her storage space.

The super typhoon lasted half a month, followed by three straight months of record-breaking rain. The entire city drowned.

Nicole lived on the 18th floor. The floodwater never reached her, but her life was still miserable.

-

After leaving the complex, Nicole stopped at a roadside diner and ate until she was full.

Without wasting a second, she went to a rental lot and picked up a box truck. Her first stop was the sneaker store.

The clerk was stunned by her return request. After all, this was a brand-new limited-edition pair of sneakers. People were lining up to buy them.

Nicole got back about 1,700 dollars, which was enough to buy rice, flour, oil, and canned food to last two or three years.

That was way better than having a man.

She drove to a street packed with door and window suppliers and ordered two extra-thick stainless steel security doors with triple-bolt top-and-bottom locks. Even a sledgehammer wouldn't break them. Installation included, the total came to about 1,200 dollars.

To save time, Nicole had measured everything before leaving home.

The shop owner worried about accuracy at first, but once he heard which apartment complex and building it was, he relaxed. He had done plenty of jobs there.

"If you need it rushed, we can install the day after tomorrow," he said.

Across the street was a glass shop. Nicole chose the thickest impact-resistant glass available, sparing no expense. Installation was scheduled for the same morning.

Let them knock. Let them smash.

In this life, no one was getting through her door with a knife ever again!

After paying the deposit, Nicole drove straight to the largest outdoor gear store downtown.

The outdoor gear market was fiercely competitive. The store was in full clearance mode, shutting down with brutal discounts. Some items were marked down to 20% of the original price.

Perfect timing.

Nicole grabbed two rigid-hull assault boats and four inflatable rafts, emergency kits for earthquakes and fires, tents, a fire axe, climbing rope, binoculars, radios, waterproof flashlights, and oversized solar chargers.

Anything meant to keep her alive had to be top quality. No compromises.

Seeing a big spender, the staff got enthusiastic, pushing jackets and sleeping bags. "Everything's on sale today. Quality guaranteed."

Nicole looked unimpressed. "Got anything that works at minus 90 degrees?"

The clerk gasped, "Minus 90? It's summer all year long here. What good is that to anyone?"

"I'm heading to Northreach for research," she replied.

She didn't look like she was joking.

The clerk quickly called around, then lowered his voice. "We can get polar-grade cold-weather suits and mummy sleeping bags. Layered together, they'll hold. Price is high, and the stock's out of state."

The supplier ran an online shop. The reviews looked solid. Overnight express delivery could get them there by tomorrow afternoon.

Nicole ordered two sets of each and paid about 1,200 dollars.

She spent another 2,400 at the outdoor store. The truck was packed full. When no one was looking, she slipped everything into her storage space.

The boats needed gasoline, but gasoline wasn’t sold to private buyers in bulk.

She bought siphon pumps and fuel drums from an auto shop, filled her truck at several gas stations, and then drove to a spot without cameras. Using the siphon, she transferred fuel into the drums.

After several trips, she had around 130 gallons of gasoline.

The apocalypse was chaos. Violence was everywhere.

She stopped by a security supply store. "I'm going to Downrange."

The owner's expression changed instantly. He pulled out his best stock. "You must have the best equipment."

Nicole bought three sets of slash-resistant, stab-resistant armor and two bulletproof vests.

With no time to waste, she drove straight to the largest clothing wholesale market on the outskirts.

Down jackets, military-style coats, cashmere sweaters, thermal layers, scarves, gloves, socks, snow boots with grip, lightweight sneakers, insulated shoes, and slippers. Nicole got anything she could think of, anything she might possibly need.

She didn't care about the brand. Just quality.

She dropped another 2,400 dollars on clothes, then crossed over to the neighboring household goods wholesale center.

There, she got comforters and down blankets. For thick cotton quilts, she bought three each in 8-pound and 10-pound weights, all vacuum-sealed.

She also bought shampoo, body wash, laundry detergent, sanitary pads, tampons, toilet paper, toothpaste, toothbrushes, insulated thermos bottles, lighters, and rubber hot water bottles

She bought 20 thousand disposable heat packs. Those things saved lives in the deep freeze.

One vendor sold rare items online, such as glass kerosene lamps and storm lanterns, waterproof and windproof. They were old-school designs from decades ago. She bought five of each.

"Do you have kerosene?"

They did, but it barely sold. The shop had only about 26 gallons in stock.

Nicole bought every drop and asked for extra lamp wicks. Those were way more durable than candles.

Then she purchased alcohol stoves, solid fuel blocks, and portable gas burners. Remembering that her storage space had power, she added a few induction cooktops.

She also got bug spray, disinfectant, water purification tablets, and insect repellent. Anything she could think of.

The total damage came to about 4,000 dollars.

Next door was the produce wholesale market. She bought apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, melons, peaches, and more; around twenty kinds of fruit. Another 1,200 was gone.

When Nicole left the market, it was already dark.

Several missed calls lit up her phone. They were all from Jeremy. His message said the shipment was ready.

Nicole drove to his company's building. More than 20 large boxes waited for her. Inside were antibiotics, anti-inflammatory meds, iodine solution, medical alcohol, gauze, and even tetanus vaccines.

These were all lifesaving supplies in a disaster scenario.

It had cost her a fortune, but the knot in her chest finally loosened.

Jeremy transferred her a 400-dollar cut of his commission as a thank-you for the massive order.

He flashed his phone at her with a grin. "Here’s your cut. Check your phone. I gotta say, that list of yours was wild. A lot of stuff wasn't even available, so I had to pull some major favors—but I got it all sorted."

"I'll deliver this first," Nicole said from the driver's seat. "I'll treat you to a big meal in a few days. A super typhoon's coming. Remember to stock up on food and fuel."

Jeremy didn't take it seriously. They'd had over a dozen typhoons this year already. Every time, it was the same story: lots of warnings, but hardly any damage.

Nicole stored the medicine, then drove to the food street near Westbridge University. She ordered burgers, loaded fries, and a couple of beers.

The street was packed with students and couples, all wearing smiles and full of life. No one had any idea what was about to hit.

The burgers took time. Nicole stared at the grill.

Then, it hit her.

Damn it. She almost forgot the most important thing.

She immediately asked the vendor for contacts selling charcoal, coal briquettes, and propane tanks.

She called them one by one, asking for next-day delivery.

But luck wasn't on her side. All the shops were in low-lying areas. Authorities had ordered them to move the inventory, so no one had time.

Three of them were clustered in the same zone. Nicole didn't even wait for her food. She drove straight there.

Charcoal was cheap but bulky. She checked her storage space and ordered 500 pounds of smokeless high-heat charcoal, plus a charcoal grill and fire starters.

One propane tank lasted about two months. In case the power cut out, she bought ten.

Coal briquettes burned forever, but with nationwide power shortages and trade sanctions against Travinia, prices had gone insane.

Nicole bit the bullet and bought 2,000.

It was nearly nine when she got back to the apartment. She took a short break, then entered her storage space to organize the chaos.

To save room, she stacked the propane tanks, briquettes, and charcoal tightly in the kitchen area. She stripped unnecessary packaging, vacuum-sealed anything fluffy, and stacked everything layer by layer up to the ceiling.

Money really did vanish fast. By the end of the day, Nicole had spent a staggering amount. The small bedroom and kitchen were filled, taking up roughly 1,800 cubic feet.

She had just finished when something slammed into her.

Nicole flew backward and tumbled out of the storage space.

She sat there, stunned.

"Huh…?"

She tried to enter again, but an invisible barrier blocked her.

What the hell?

The storage space had swallowed her supplies and kicked her out!

Nicole jolted, then immediately checked with her mind.

The storage space was still there. The supplies were still there, too. She tested it; she thought of an item, and a coal briquette appeared in her hand.

Sweeping the space again, she noticed the glowing timer had reset to zero.

That was when it clicked. The storage space only allowed two hours inside at a time.

Two hours…

Fine. Better than nothing.

After showering, it was already past midnight.

Nicole checked again. A fresh two-hour window had replenished. Only then did she finally breathe a little easier.

She lay in bed, but couldn't fall asleep. In the end, she took some melatonin.

Her sleep was shallow and broken. She dreamed of being chased again, rust-stained blades swinging down toward her body.

Nicole woke up drenched in sweat. It was five in the morning, and the sky outside was still dark.

She went into the storage space and looked over her supplies just to steady herself. Only then did her heart slow down.

She didn't go back to sleep.

Grabbing her car keys, she headed to the largest agricultural wholesale market in town. Dawn was barely breaking, yet traffic around the market was already packed.

Nicole went straight to the produce section and bought fresh items still beaded with dew.

She bought 100 pounds each of onions, carrots, squash, tomatoes, bell peppers, celery, and cucumbers, as well as 200 pounds each of potatoes and sweet potatoes.

She also bought 100 pounds of ginger and garlic, respectively. They could be planted and used for seasoning. During the deep freeze, a cup of hot ginger tea could keep someone alive.

She bought steadily as she walked. Aside from leafy greens, she skipped nothing.

By the time she grabbed breakfast, it was close to 9 a.m. The crowd had thinned.

Nicole started stocking staple foods, comparing prices stall by stall.

She got 100 50-pound bags of rice, 50 50-pound bags of flour, as well as 500 pounds each of various noodles and starch. Then she bought 200 pounds each of various dried beans, including lentils, chickpeas, and peanuts, as well as 50 large containers each of different kinds of vegetable oils.

She spent under 6,000 dollars and talked the vendor into tossing in three extra bags of rice.

Just this alone could feed her for 30 years.

While the vendor packed the order, Nicole headed to the seasoning section.

She got ten 5-gallon barrels of condiments, such as soy sauce and vinegar. She also purchased 30 pounds each of spices, including black pepper, bay leaves, cinnamon sticks, and cloves.

Then she got 300 pounds of brown sugar, white sugar, and rock sugar, as well as 3,000 pounds of salt.

Food mattered in the apocalypse, but salt mattered more. Without it, the body collapsed.

In her third year of surviving, Nicole had seen someone trade one bag of salt for 60 pounds of grain.

Three thousand pounds of salt barely took up space. When resources ran dry, it would be priceless. If she'd had room, she would've stocked tons.

Once the truck was loaded, Nicole drove to a quiet corner with no cameras and transferred everything into the storage space, then headed for the frozen foods section.

She got ten large boxes each of various frozen breads, sweet pastries, and savory breakfast buns. She avoided premade fillings and stocked up on frozen tortillas, something to keep her busy when floods kept her indoors.

Next came dried goods, such as dried mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, dried herbs, and dehydrated vegetables. Another 2,000 was gone.

At the meat section, Nicole found the stall that supplied the university cafeteria.

The owner lit up when he saw her. "Nicole, what are you looking for today?"

The air before the typhoon was thick and stifling. There wasn't much meat left, and the freshness was average, but the prices were fair.

Nicole ordered various cuts of pork, lamb, and beef, 200 pounds each. She also got 100 each of chickens and ducks, 50 turkeys, and assorted organ meats in bulk.

The owner stared at her. "Are you serious?"

His wife worked at the slaughterhouse. Nicole had sent plenty of customers his way before.

"It's for a family wedding," she said calmly. "Just keep the price low."

"Between us? I'm giving it to you at cost." He laughed. "I'll give you 30% off."

Meat burned money fast. Pork prices had dropped recently, but beef and lamb hadn't. Buying from someone she knew saved a fortune.

The total came to around 6,000 dollars.

Nicole didn't haggle; she just added one request.

She asked for two heavy cleavers and a butcher knife. Weapons mattered, but she had no time or channels. This would have to do.

The owner looked uneasy. "What do you need those for?"

"Relax. I'm not killing anyone."

With both profit and the relationship in mind, he agreed.

Nicole moved on to the fish stall and ordered 100 whole fish, cleaned but not cut. She then picked up 3,000 chicken eggs and 1,000 duck eggs.

Thinking the disasters might end someday, she also bought fertilized eggs, including chicken, duck, turkey, and quail, plus a small home incubator.

Remembering the garden in her storage space, Nicole stopped by a seed shop.

She bought seeds for fast-growing vegetables such as lettuce, spinach, kale, and mustard greens.

Seeds were cheap. About 100 dollars bought enough for decades.

There were only about 100 square feet of black soil, but she had two balconies. Her farming instincts kicked in. She bought planters, soil, shovels, hoes, and potting mix.

With cautious hope, she went to the nursery section.

She picked up three mature plants each from a dozen fruit varieties, including apple and citrus trees, grapevines, and berry plants like blueberries and strawberries.

Fresh meat wouldn't last forever. As disasters dragged on, even powerful groups wouldn't have access to it.

Nicole bought a breeding pair of rabbits. They survived on vegetables and reproduced fast. She would have plenty of meat for a long time.

She favored foods that could be eaten cold or lightly dressed. She bought hundreds of pounds of beef shank, beef brisket, and smoked meat.

Money drained fast. It hurt.

But seeing the supplies stack higher and higher inside the storage space gave her a quiet sense of security.

She spent the entire day in the wholesale market.

When she finally stepped out, the streets were blazing with lights. Crowds flowed. The city's best hours were just beginning.

Nicole walked into a restaurant and ordered barbecue ribs, meatloaf with gravy, and mashed potatoes. She ate until she was full and boxed the rest.

It was still early when she got home. She hauled everything into the storage space, filling the large room completely.

Vegetables and fruit trees went into the living room. The rabbits stayed on the balcony.

Nicole was careful. When the timer dropped to ten minutes, she stepped out.

The moment she exited, the two rabbits were kicked out as well, thudding onto the floor. They almost didn't make it.

Nicole stared.

She first felt frustration, then wild joy.

The storage space had limits. And as long as she wasn't inside, no living creature could stay either.

Which meant no one could steal it.

In a great mood, she sat down to check for anything she had left out. She bought everything she could still think of. Her balance dropped to about 4,000 dollars.

In the storage space, only the living room and bathroom remained empty. To survive extreme disasters, there was still more to prepare, but she wouldn't stock bulky items anymore.

Nicole opened a delivery app and ordered from all the top-rated places she had always wanted to try but never dared.

She ordered burgers, fried chicken, mac and cheese, pizza, pasta, and a dozen other dishes, ten portions each. She also got several varieties of baked goods, breakfast items, sandwiches, fried sides, and drinks.

She spent over 2,000 dollars, choosing scheduled pickup to keep everything fresh.

Though exhausted, Nicole wanted to see the city one last time while it was still alive.

That afternoon, a notice came out. To prepare for the incoming typhoon, schools would close for three days. Reopening would be announced later.

Students exploded with excitement. Friends called friends. Nightlife plans filled the air.

The coast saw typhoons every year. People always hoped for classes to be canceled. This time, their wish came true.

Nicole felt the same.

But the others didn't know this one was real. They would never need to go back to class again.

Nicole ate barbecue and drank beer, her emotions tangled as she kept running pickups.

Back home, she had the nagging feeling she had forgotten something important. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember what it was.