“Legend Smyth, any chance you could trade more of that mutton stew?” Liu Haoyan’s message flashed across Thomas’s regional chat.


    “Yeah,” added Cecilia Wang. “Disaster hits tonight. Could we trade for more? We’re low on supplies after stocking up on cold-weather gear.”


    Thomas sighed. “The stew is limited. I’m practically out of other supplies myself after trading for the ingredients. Trades depend on what you offer. We’re all struggling here.”


    “I’ll look out for our region,” he continued, “but only if you have something I need. I’m not trading life-saving food for junk. Like that pressure-resistant diving suit – I’ll only buy one. Five bowls of stew for whoever has it.”


    “And don’t try guilt-tripping me,” he finished, his tone hardening. “It’s the apocalypse. You all know the score. Annoy me, and you’re blocked. I owe you nothing.”


    The blunt message silenced those harboring hopes of a handout. They knew he was their only source of relief from the crippling [Wind Chill].


    Thomas checked his private messages. Another survivor offered a graphics card. He snapped it up, bringing his total to five.


    As midnight approached, a chill seeped into the hideout. The thermometer read 19°C, a sharp drop from the afternoon’s 25°C. Thomas piled more wood into the fireplace, cranking the heat until the temperature climbed back up. He realized with a jolt that the outside temperature must be plummeting towards -30°C.


    He went to the kitchen, stored the prepared stew, and replenished the ingredients. Then, he settled down on a sheepskin rug, burying himself under a thick comforter. The pothos on the coffee table swayed gently, silently filtering the air, converting toxins into oxygen.


    He slept deeply, waking to lingering warmth. But the moment his arm slipped from beneath the covers, the cold bit hard.


    The fire still crackled, but the flames were weak. The hideout’s temperature had fallen to 9°C. Shivering, Thomas threw on his fleece robe and checked the regional chat.


    As expected: Day One of the Polar Blizzard. The survivor count had dropped to 553. Over 140 people had frozen to death overnight. The chat was filled with grief and despair. His private messages were overflowing, many filled with the bitter curses of the dying, blaming him for their fate. He deleted them without a second thought. He wasn’t a saint. Survival was hard enough as it was.


    Back under the covers, he scrolled through the trade requests. Most wanted [Nourishing Mutton Stew], no longer bothering to hide their desperation. They offered everything they had, often demanding exorbitant amounts – five, even ten bowls.


    Thomas scanned the offers, assigning prices based on the items’ value. One or two bowls, mostly. Take it or leave it.


    Then, something caught his eye. A flicker of excitement, then disbelief.


    [Hideout Holographic Barrier Construction Blueprint]


    Type: Rare Blueprint


    Effect: Creates a holographic barrier perfectly enveloping the hideout. Grants camouflage, waterproofing, and moderate defense.


    Requirements: Generator Level 3, Hideout Security Level 3, Hideout Walls Level 2, Intelligence Center Level 2, CPU x1, CPU Fan x2, Circuit Board x3, Graphics Card x2, Electronic Components x5, Phase Control Relay x2, Programmable Processor x1, Electromagnetic Collar x1


    Construction Time: 24 hours


    “This…” Thomas’s heart pounded. A lifeline. This blueprint solved his biggest problem for the coming flood. With the holographic barrier, he wouldn’t need any other upgrades. The waterproofing alone was enough. Even with the hideout door open, the floodwaters wouldn’t stand a chance.


    The others clearly didn’t know about the flood. Otherwise, this blueprint wouldn’t be on offer.


    “I have to get this.”This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The message was timestamped 1:00 AM. The sender, a “Wang Dudu,” wanted twenty bowls of stew.


    Thomas contacted them, unsure if they were even still alive.


    “City - Thomas: You still there? Five bowls max for the blueprint. Deal?”


    He waited, anxiety gnawing at him. Had they died? He forced himself to look at other offers.


    Ten minutes later, a reply.


    “City - Wang Dudu: Too low. Ten bowls. Plus a fever medicine if you have any.”


    Thomas frowned. High fever. Likely a worsening case of [Wind Chill].


    He considered. Ten bowls was acceptable, but agreeing too quickly might encourage them to raise the price. His usual trading prices were public knowledge.


    “City - Thomas: No way. That blueprint’s only real use is the camouflage. The rest is useless.”


    “City - Thomas: Five bowls and three fever pills. That’s my final offer. Keep it if you don’t want to trade.”


    He sent the message, his hand hovering over the panel. He was gambling, banking on their desperation and his own assertive stance.


    He was telling the truth. For most, the camouflage was the only valuable feature. Hideouts were generally well-hidden. Even if discovered, moderate defense would only delay the inevitable. And waterproofing? Completely irrelevant. Except for Thomas, who knew what was coming.


    Minutes later, a trade request arrived.


    The trade completed swiftly. Thomas stored the blueprint, deciding to postpone construction until after the blizzard. He had secured two crucial items for the coming flood: the [Hideout Holographic Barrier] and the [Oceanborn] gene tonic. Now, he just needed to gather the materials.


    His immediate concern was reaching the Trading Center tomorrow night to obtain the [Polar Snow Lotus]. The gene tonic had made acquiring this Calamity Wonder a necessity.


    But first, he needed to solve two problems: transportation in the blizzard and infiltration of the Trading Center.


    The regional chat painted a grim picture. The temperature had plummeted to -40°C. Those who died overnight had simply frozen solid. Some hideouts, poorly sealed, had doors frozen shut by thick layers of ice, trapping the survivors inside.


    Half a meter of snow blanketed the ground, making each step a grueling test of endurance. Staying warm in the extreme cold was another critical challenge.


    While the [Nourishing Mutton Stew] provided temporary warmth, Thomas couldn’t rely on it in a crisis. He couldn’t exactly stop mid-fight to gulp down hot stew. He needed better cold-weather gear. His sheepskin coat, effective at -20°C or -30°C, wouldn’t suffice in -50°C or -60°C.


    Transportation and warmth. He had to find solutions today.


    He went to the [Medical Station], hoping for a useful refresh. Two unfamiliar rectangular packages lay on the workbench. A grin spread across his face. Jackpot.


    [Field Surgical Kit]


    Type: Trauma Treatment


    Size: 3x1


    Uses: 15/15


    Effect: Removes one instance of [Fracture] or [Gunshot Wound].


    Description: An advanced surgical kit equipped for battlefield treatment of severe injuries.


    Note: Removes only one [Fracture] or [Gunshot Wound] at a time. Further treatment with other medical supplies is required. Head and chest wounds cannot be repaired.


    A clear upgrade from the [Emergency Surgical Kit]. Fifteen uses instead of five. And it treated fractures as well as gunshot wounds. This significantly improved his chances of surviving outdoor encounters.


    He stored the kits, pleased. The [Medical Station], working tirelessly, had produced a stockpile: [Vehicle First Aid Kits] x23, [Grizzly First Aid Kits] x32, [Defibrillator] x1, [Emergency Surgical Kits] x5.


    He stored these as well. With the blizzard raging, survivors wouldn’t be exploring, so demand would be low. He’d wait until the storm passed and they ventured out in search of resources. That would be the time to sell.


    He opened the [World Channel] to post his trade offers. His priorities: transportation, cold-weather gear, and materials for the barrier and gene tonic, including hideout upgrade resources.


    “City - Thomas: Trading [Nourishing Mutton Stew] x50 (with 1 [Anaprox Pain Relief Tablet] and 1 [Amoxicillin Antibiotic]) for Motor x5, Mechanical Parts x10, Wire x20, Classified Intel x5… Pressure-Resistant Diving Suit x1, Phase Control Relay x5, various low-tier medical supplies… Rare items, graphics cards, valuables, etc. Also seeking snow transportation and extreme cold-weather gear. Top prices paid!”


    He cross-posted to the regional channel. Most survivors, lacking rare items, held little hope. But the mention of low-tier medical supplies and electronic components sparked a flurry of activity. Offers flooded in.


    Someone managed to trade a pile of seemingly useless medical junk for a bowl of stew, excitedly posting screenshots to the [World Channel].


    “City - Liu Jing: It works! (See screenshots of trade with Thomas). Traded junk for stew! Finally some security! Legend Smyth is a true hero! But please, don’t bother him with other junk. He’s only trading for medical and electronic stuff.”


    More and more survivors traded their low-tier medical supplies for stew. The chat buzzed with praise for Thomas, hailing him as a savior of the common survivor. Even though it took a large quantity of medical supplies to get a single bowl, many were grateful. Items like [Pile of Pills], [Pile of Instruments], [Tourniquet], and [Capacitor] were useless on their own.


    Of course, some remained cynical. Sandy, still nursing her grudge, sneered in the chat. But she was now widely disliked. Others quickly jumped to Thomas’s defense, their replies sharp and unforgiving. Her private messages exploded again.


    Somewhere, in a grassland hideout, Sandy glared at the overflowing inbox, her face contorted in rage.


    “A bunch of pathetic sycophants,” she spat. “Groveling for a bowl of stew. Worthless trash.”


    Oblivious to the drama unfolding in the [World Channel], Thomas stared at an item description, his face alight with surprise.