Just after midnight, the timer refreshed. One hundred thirty minutes remaining.

That meant time could stack.

Nicole nearly laughed out loud. Seconds mattered. During crucial moments, even a minute could mean the difference between living and dying.

She decided that unless it was absolutely necessary, she wouldn't enter the storage space again. She would save the time during the deep freeze or earthquakes.

With food secured and the storage space as a safety net, she finally felt a little steadier about the disasters ahead.

She slept through the night without dreams.

The next morning, a phone call dragged her awake. The stainless steel door installers had arrived.

"Are you putting stainless steel doors in here?" one of them asked, surprised.

"Yeah. There have been break-ins lately. I want something solid."

The worker laughed helplessly. "Those top-and-bottom locking bolts are secure, but we'll have to drill into the ceiling and floor. Aren't you worried about damage?"

"That's fine. Safety comes first."

Her landlord had moved away for work. By the time the apartment collapsed in the earthquake later on, she never heard from the landlord anyway. Renovations weren't a concern.

The blast-resistant glass installers arrived right after. Both crews worked nonstop, drills whining through the morning.

Since it was the weekend, and Nicole didn't want to annoy the neighbors, she sent a quick message in the building chat and tossed in a small cash gift.

She opened a food delivery app and kept ordering, spending whatever was left.

In under two hours, the doors and windows were finished. After paying the remaining balance, Nicole stared at the fortress-like apartment and finally relaxed.

Her phone rang. She assumed it was a delivery driver.

Instead, it was Edward.

"It's my birthday party today. When are you coming?"

His voice sounded warm and bright, layered with laughter and chatter in the background.

Nicole sneered, "Sure. Just wait."

She knew Edward had feelings for Mary. He just kept her dangling for surprise gifts and the pendant she wore.

Even through the phone, she could hear Mary's soft, sweet voice nearby.

In Nicole's last life, she threw herself at him, and he barely acknowledged her. Now, he was suddenly reaching out.

Alarm bells rang in her head.

How had Mary known about the pendant's storage space? Judging by Edward's attitude, he probably didn't know the secret. The call was likely Mary's idea.

Nicole grabbed her keys and went downstairs.

Edward lived on the eighth floor. Laughter spilled from his apartment.

Nicole walked right past without a glance and exited the building.

The air was still heavy, but the typhoon's advance winds had arrived. Whistling gusts cut through the streets.

A new alert popped up. The typhoon was expected to arrive at 9 p.m.

Nicole froze.

It had moved up.

She headed to the university library and gathered medical textbooks, disaster response manuals, martial arts guides, and books on mental conditioning.

During the floods, this entire library would vanish underwater. Countless books would be lost forever.

The thought made her chest ache, but there was nothing she could do.

She avoided cameras, stacked the books with others, and quietly slid them into her storage space. Stealing books wasn't right, but the library would be destroyed soon anyway. These books were part of human civilization.

Nicole couldn't save everything. If the disasters ever ended, she would donate what she took.

Edward called again. Nicole blocked his number without hesitation.

After leaving campus, she went to a large supermarket. She rode the elevator up to the rooftop parking lot, walked around carefully, then came back down.

Faced with shelves packed full of goods, she didn't buy a single thing. She wandered the second floor several times, then drove off.

The rental company called. The typhoon had arrived early, and they were closing. The vehicle needed to be returned by 3 p.m.

Nicole agreed verbally, but returned it at 4 p.m.

The wind was already howling, tearing through the streets.

The owner was decent. After inspection, he refunded her 400-dollar deposit.

Disasters didn't strike all at once. They always gave a buffer. Humans just never noticed.

Nicole kept the cash on hand and stopped spending.

Back at the apartment, she grabbed her laptop, tablet, and phone and started downloading materials nonstop: medical references, survival guides, movies, music, life skills, cooking recipes, offline maps, and emergency response manuals.

A shipping notification popped up.

Nicole's heart skipped.

The polar cold-weather suits! She had completely forgotten.

They were supposed to arrive yesterday evening, but the seller shipped late, and delays piled up. The packages had just reached the courier station.

She called immediately.

The station said the typhoon had already hit, and deliveries were suspended. If she really needed it, she could come pick it up before 6 p.m.

Outside, the wind screamed. Trees in the complex thrashed wildly.

Once the rain came, the courier station would flood. And without polar gear, surviving temperatures of -90°F would be impossible.

No ride-hailing drivers were taking orders. Nicole had no choice. She ran downstairs, scanned a shared bike, and pedaled hard toward the station.

The station was two miles away. Nicole could barely keep her eyes open. Trash and cardboard flew through the air like shrapnel.

By the time she arrived, she was soaked in sweat, hair plastered to her face.

Typhoon delays had jammed the station. Packages were stacked everywhere.

Nicole didn't stop to catch her breath. She rolled up her sleeves and dug through the piles. Thankfully, the boxes were huge. After more than ten minutes, she finally found them.

Outside, the wind had grown even stronger. The sky was so dark that it looked like night.

Nicole gritted her teeth and hugged the massive package as she stepped out. The moment she cleared the doorway, a sudden gust slammed into her. Her feet left the ground.

At the last second, a man loading boxes into a vehicle reached out and grabbed her arm. His stance was solid. He hauled the soaked, shaken Nicole back to safety.

She tried to thank him, but her voice vanished into the wind.

He glanced at her. "Typhoon's here. Carrying that like this isn't safe."

Caught off guard by how fast the storm escalated, Nicole had no choice but to retreat inside. She refreshed the ride app nonstop, even adding extra tips.

Three hundred people were ahead of her in the queue. Not a single driver accepted.

The man finished loading packages, stuffing them into a Hummer until it was packed. Seeing her anxious expression, he hesitated.

"Where do you live?"

Under the lights, Nicole finally saw his face.

He wore a black T-shirt and jeans. He looked to be in his early twenties, with short, clean-cut hair, a sharp jawline, and hard, sculpted features.

He was tall, at least six feet, with long legs that caught the eye right away.

She thanked him again.

He looked indifferent. "No big deal."

"I live at Crownview Residences," Nicole said. "Could you give me a lift? I can pay."

He nodded and opened the door.

The back seat was full.

Opening the front door, Nicole saw a little girl in the passenger seat. She looked four or five years old, with a pale, timid face and big dark eyes that watched Nicole in silence. She wore a pink dress.

"Poppy, let her hold you," the man said calmly.

With the apocalypse starting, who cared about traffic cameras anymore?

Nicole lifted Poppy onto her lap and wedged the package under her feet.

The wind howled, but the Hummer moved steadily forward.

The sky pressed low and heavy. Broken branches spun through the air. Sheet metal clattered violently.

Down the street, a woman in a summer dress clung to a utility pole, mouth wide open, screaming for help.

The natural disasters had officially begun.

Two miles was nothing. The Hummer reached the entrance to the complex in just a few minutes.

Nicole handed the man 400 dollars, thanking him for saving her and for ignoring traffic rules.

His voice stayed cool. "No need. I was heading this way, anyway."

Seeing he wouldn't take it, she didn't push.

As she got out, she added, "The typhoon might cut water and power. While you still can, stock up on rice, flour, and oil, the basics."

She pushed the door open and ran into the complex, clutching the package as wind slammed into her. Fat raindrops crashed down like pellets. She wiped her face and stumbled out of the elevator, then looked up and froze.

Edward and Mary were standing in front of her apartment.

They had clearly been waiting a while. Edward looked irritated. Mary, on the other hand, wore a sweet smile. She was clad in a white sundress, looking innocent and spotless.

"What took you so long?" Edward snapped. "We've been waiting forever!"

Seeing them dragged up memories Nicole had buried. She remembered how she was bullied during the apocalypse, and how they stood by while she was torn apart. Her mood dropped instantly, sharp and ugly.

She had been stupid last time. That was on her.

This life, if they still wanted to leech off her and steal what kept her alive, they could dream on.

What she'd suffered, they would suffer twice over.

Nicole's face went cold. "What do you want?"

She used to treat Edward like the center of her world. Now, she didn't even bother hiding her indifference.

Edward stalled, then shot back, "It's my birthday. Why didn't you come to my party?"

"We're not close. Why would I?" she snapped.

"What…" Edward faltered.

She had been pursuing him. She had even said she would get him the gift he wanted most.

Of course, he wasn't here for a present. Mary had taken an interest in Nicole and wanted to meet her.

Mary studied Nicole with a smile and said sweetly, "Hey, Nicole."

"We don't know each other," Nicole cut in flatly. "Don't call me with that affectionate tone."

Mary looked awkward but kept her tone soft. "It's Edward's birthday. We're all from the same college. Come hang out with us."

Edward's birthday party had already ended at noon. Dragging her to the eighth floor now was just about stealing her pendant.

"Are you deaf?" Nicole sneered. "I said we're not close. Why the hell does his birthday have anything to do with me?"

Edward hadn't expected that. His face stiffened. "Nicole, what's your problem?"

"You two are wearing matching couple rings, but you keep inviting me to your place. Are you trying to make me part of a throuple?"

"Don't flatter yourself!" Edward snapped, furious and embarrassed. "I've never had that kind of interest in you. Mary, let's go."

However, Mary didn't move. She forced a smile. "I'll be honest with you. We came out for his birthday, but with the typhoon, we couldn't get home. Could I stay here for the night?"

"Are you out of your mind? I already said we're not close," Nicole spat.

Edward's face darkened. "Nicole, watch how you talk!"

"This is how I talk," she retorted. "If you don't like it, don't come bothering me."

Edward grabbed Mary to leave, but she resisted. Gritting her teeth, she kept smiling. "Nicole, that pendant you're wearing is really pretty. Where did you buy it?"

Nicole took the pendant off. "Do you want it?"

Mary's eyes lit up. "Would you sell it? I really like it."

Nicole let go.

The pendant hit the floor. She lifted her foot and stomped it hard, again and again, until it shattered into pieces.

Once the storage space bound to her, the pendant had lost its shine. It was useless now.

People were dangerous. If Nicole didn't destroy it in front of them, who knew what Mary might try next?

"Because you like it," Nicole said, "I find it disgusting now."

Mary stared at the broken pieces, stunned, before letting out a frightened gasp. Seeing his girlfriend upset, Edward exploded and started hurling insults at Nicole.

Nicole's eyes went sharp. "Get lost! And don't ever come back and get in my way!"

Edward's face went gray. He dragged Mary off, furious and humiliated.

Only then did Nicole unlock the stainless steel door and rush inside, tearing open the package.

The polar cold-weather suit was thick but soft, instantly warm when she put it on. The mummy sleeping bag was stitched in layers of down, heavy and solid. These would keep her alive during the deep freeze.

Outside, the wind screamed. The sky had sunk into a deep, heavy black.

Nicole shut all doors and windows tight, pulled out large white plastic barrels, and filled them with water. Several went straight into the storage space bathroom.

Once the typhoon rains fully set in, the complex would lose water and power fast.

No matter how wild it sounded outside, Nicole stayed busy in the kitchen, washing rice, chopping vegetables, cooking nonstop.

Braised beef, roasted chicken with mushrooms, baked fish, and beef and root vegetable stew. Each pot was huge. She packed everything into stainless steel containers, steaming hot, and stored them away.

While the storm had just begun and everyone still had food, it was best to cook strong-smelling dishes now. Later, lighting a fire would only invite trouble.

She steamed dinner rolls, baked bread, and made pastries. The gas stove and induction cooktop ran full blast until well past midnight.

She changed out of her greasy clothes, took a hot shower, and collapsed into bed.

Her sleep was shallow. A drilling noise dragged her awake.

Nicole pulled the curtain aside. Outside was a gray blur, wind and rain howling together. She thought it was still early, but her phone showed it was already after nine in the morning.

WhatsApp was exploding. The neighborhood group and class group both showed over 99 unread messages.

People were cheering the arrival of Typhoon Cleaver. Office workers were celebrating a break from endless overtime. Students were thrilled about the unexpected days off.

Photos and videos flooded the chats: trees ripped out by the roots, luxury cars crushed, a metal factory sliced open by a tornado.

Some people were starting to panic, complaining they hadn't stocked up on food. They said supermarkets were wiped clean by the time they got off work, with only a few sad packs of instant noodles left.

The drilling continued, coming from next door.

Nicole frowned. The building had three units per floor, and the other two were supposed to be empty.

In her last life, floodwater reached the second floor. People who fled their homes never got rescued and started targeting vacant apartments.

At first, everyone kept the peace. As food ran low, eyes grew darker, greed sharper. More than once, they tried to pry open Nicole's door in the middle of the night.

This time, she had a fire axe. If they tried, she wouldn't hesitate.

Then, she heard it. Not just drilling. A child's voice.

Nicole opened her door.

The door to unit 1801 was wide open. A brand-new stainless steel door leaned to the side. A young man in light-colored casual clothes was drilling into the wall.

Hearing her door open, he turned.

Nicole froze.

"It's you?"

Nicole never expected the new resident of 1801 to be the same young man who had helped her at the courier station.

He looked mildly surprised, too. He nodded once at her, then went back to work.

Up close, he was striking in a cold, sharp way. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and clean lines under his clothes that hinted at strength ready to explode at any moment.

Nicole felt a prickle at the back of her scalp. She exchanged a brief greeting and quickly retreated into her apartment.

This life was already different.

The typhoon had arrived early. And now, there was a new neighbor. What kind of normal person would install three stainless steel doors in a row?

Peaceful coexistence would be ideal, but caution was nonnegotiable.

Saving someone didn't mean much once the disasters dragged on. When order collapsed, who could promise anyone would stay the same?

Nicole locked her door, brushed her teeth, washed up, and ate breakfast. The sky outside was a little brighter, but still pressed low and dark.

Standing on the balcony, she watched the screaming typhoon slam into the building. Rain battered the blast-resistant glass nonstop. Just overnight, streets had turned into rivers. Cars were half-submerged. In low-lying areas, entire vehicles were swept away.

Rain blurred everything. The distance was gray and indistinct. The sky sank lower and lower, like invisible hands squeezing the city in a crushing grip.

Nicole raised her binoculars.

From above, the roads were drowned. Clouds hung frighteningly low. A twisting funnel connected sky and ground, spinning fast, sucking in rain, trees, cars, everything in its path.

A tornado.

Nicole's breath caught as she watched it tear through an elevated roadway. Lightning struck trees and sparked fires, only for the rain to smother them seconds later.

Had there been tornadoes in her last life?

She couldn't remember.

Too many things were different now, and all of them felt worse.

Her phone kept buzzing. Irritated, she disconnected from the internet and went into the kitchen, washing and chopping without stopping.

She blanched frozen beef brisket and beef shank to clear out the impurities, then pulled out an assortment of spices to start the braise. Cleaning organ meats took time and patience.

After hours in the smoke, her appetite disappeared. For lunch, she made a simple bowl of chicken noodle soup.

As she turned off the exhaust fan, she thought she heard a child crying.

At first, Nicole ignored it. She bagged the trash and stepped outside, but the crying came again, clearer this time. From next door.

She had only studied medicine for a year and had barely scratched the surface. Still, she knew enough to recognize when a child's cry wasn't normal.

After a moment of hesitation, she knocked on the door of 1801.

"Poppy?" she called.

The triple-layer stainless steel door was thick. Nicole knocked for a long time with no response. Just as she turned to leave, there was a click.

After a lot of fumbling inside, the door finally opened.

Poppy stood there, eyes swollen and red, tear tracks streaking her face. Dried vomit clung to the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed in a way that felt wrong.

"Why are you crying?" Nicole asked.

Nicole reached out and touched Poppy's forehead. It was alarmingly hot. Her nose ran clear and nonstop.

A cold with a high fever.

"Where's your dad?" Nicole asked.

"My brother, you mean? He's gone." Poppy's voice was hoarse from crying. She rubbed her eyes over and over. "He's left me, too…"

Too?

So the girl had been left behind before.

Nicole glanced at the fortress of doors behind her, then gently rubbed the girl's head.

"He probably just stepped out. He'll be back. Do you want to come to my place for a bit?"

A sick five-year-old would understandably be scared if she were invited to a stranger's house, but Poppy remembered Nicole. After a moment, she nodded.

Nicole brought Poppy inside and checked her temperature. It was over 103°F. Nicole found children's cold medicine with fever reducers and carefully fed Poppy a dose.

Worried Poppy's brother might panic, Nicole wrote a note and stuck it on the door of 1801.

Listening to the storm raging outside, Nicole couldn't help wondering what kind of person would go out in weather like this. It was practically suicide,

Thunder cracked again and again. The TV had no signal.

Poppy curled up on the couch, trembling, fear written all over her.

Nicole was suddenly pulled back to her own childhood. She had been like this once; she had watched other kids get comforted by their parents while she lay sick alone, hugging a pillow, convinced the whole world had abandoned her.

She didn't know how to take care of kids. All she could do was pull out a tablet and put on a cartoon she had downloaded earlier.

It worked.

Poppy's attention slowly shifted to the screen, her breathing easing.

Nicole sat beside Poppy and checked her phone. Several profile pictures lit up. Edward was one of them.

[I didn't mean to be harsh yesterday. Don't be mad. I was really looking forward to you coming to my birthday. When you didn't, I felt pretty down.]

He looked decent enough on the outside. Turned out, he folded fast.

But it wasn't surprising. There were probably still seven or eight people at his place. Birthday parties meant chips, beer, and cake. No one cooked, so they didn't have any real food stored.

Even if they had instant noodles or crackers, they wouldn't last with that many mouths.

Nicole checked the timestamp. The texts were sent an hour ago.

Right on schedule. Edward was hungry.

Several friend requests came in after his messages. She ignored them all.

Two tutoring parents messaged Nicole, thanking her for the warning. They had managed to buy food just in time. Otherwise, their families would've gone hungry.

One even sent money as a thank-you gift.

Nicole didn't accept it. Even if she did, there was nothing left to spend money on.

She kept scrolling through group chats.

People showing off seafood feasts. Others, bragging about camp stew and expensive wine while listening to the storm. Some opened their freezers wide to flaunt their stockpiles.

The comparisons escalated into games and message chains. No one seemed to realize what kind of price they would pay later.

There would be two weeks of nonstop rain and wind. Even if rescue teams tried, the environment wouldn't allow it. Once food ran out, these people would be the first targets.

For every person bragging, there were more begging.

Most of them were young adults who lived on takeout. They spent freely and never cooked. They had closets full of clothes and skincare products, but not a single meal at home.

[Went to the supermarket last night. Instant noodles were gone. Can anyone spare something?]

[I only managed to grab two bags of flour, but I have nothing to cook with.]

Once one person spoke up, others followed. Someone even invited women to come over for camp stew. Too bad they weren't in the same building.

Most people just watched. Real help was rare.

And then, someone suggested trading: five sheet masks for a pack of instant noodles. Someone replied almost immediately.

Messages flew past too fast. Nicole scrolled quickly and stopped on a forwarded video.

It showed a car swept into floodwaters. Firefighters fought through the storm to rescue the driver, only to be swallowed by a sudden surge from upstream.

There were many videos like it. Some ended in rescues, others with silence.

Nicole felt her chest tighten. She was about to close the app when Edward popped up again.