Thanks to her experience in the previous game, Chu Yian knew that rice and noodles were the most cost-effective staples.
Even though she wasn't short on money this round, she still hauled back a 50-pound sack of rice and 8 pounds of dried noodles.
She didn't skip fresh produce either, packing her fridge to the brim with two bulging bags of fruits and vegetables.
Day Two of the Game.
Morning.
The city had been raining non-stop since she arrived, and today was no different—grey skies and drizzles.
She got up early. As she passed the building's exterior, she overheard a woman on the second floor cooking and grumbling through her open window:
"When the hell is this rain going to stop? Every day it rains, and now the rice I bought a few days ago has gone moldy. Ugh, so frustrating!"
Chu Yian glanced toward the window and saw the middle-aged woman tossing a bowl of spoiled food into her trash bin.
Her gaze dropped to the building's exterior wall. At the corner of the first floor, the white tiles were dusted in a greyish fuzz. From afar it looked like dirt, but up close, it was clearly mold.
Around her, people were out walking dogs, jogging, or rushing to work.
No one seemed to notice this tiny but ominous change.
This game's crisis stemmed from mold invading the food supply, triggering a global famine.
Chu Yian didn't know exactly how bad it would get—but based on the last two games, it definitely wouldn't be easy.
Maybe she should buy a chest freezer?
If the super mold had already reached the point where it corroded anything in sight, cold temperatures might at least slow down food spoilage.
With that thought, Chu Yian made her way to an appliance store.
After a long and savage haggling session, she scored a second-hand freezer—big, powerful, and cheap.
The delivery guy carried the freezer upstairs for free. When he realized she lived in a luxury apartment, he was a little baffled:
"Miss, you live in a place like this and still bargained 80 yuan off me and asked for free installation?"
He still remembered how she'd talked him down from 870 yuan to 791.
Such an oddly specific number—he suddenly felt like he'd been hustled.
"Uncle, this place looks fancy on the outside, but that's just smoke and mirrors,"
Chu Yian quickly said, handing him two bottles of water from inside.
"Look at me—I'm broke. I'm in the startup phase, hustling hard!"
She was a penny-pincher through and through, unwilling to waste a single coin.
The freezer was a beast—two meters long, 1.5 meters wide, and 1.2 meters deep. More than enough to hoard supplies.
With a proper place to store food, she went full shopping mode. Two trips to the supermarket later, the security guard at the front gate had already started recognizing her.
Watching her head out for yet another trip, the guard chuckled:
"Stockpiling, huh? Bought a massive freezer, been running around all day buying groceries."
One casual joke from this big bro of a guard made Chu Yian freeze mid-step.
Getting noticed stockpiling this early in the game? Huge mistake.
When food becomes scarce later, people would remember—there's a juicy target upstairs with a fat stash.
She forced a smile and waved at him:
"Ah… I'm just planning to open a little store. The freezer's too big to put anywhere else, so I'm keeping it at home for a few days. I'll move it soon—day after tomorrow, max."
Chu Yian kept her expression calm, but inside she was panicking.
She wanted to scream, "My apartment's so empty I can hear the echo—there's not even a grain of rice in there!"
"Young and already running your own business. Impressive."
The guard was a chatty guy, and could find something to say about any topic.
"Just trying to hustle a bit, you know," she replied smoothly.
Before leaving, she added,
"Once my seafood shop opens, Uncle, make sure to come support me!"
Once she was out of sight, the smile vanished from her face.
Damn. She'd screwed up.
How could she be so careless?
Stockpiling in plain sight?
If that security guard hadn't made the joke, how long would it have taken her to realize the risk?
Realizing the danger, she immediately adjusted her strategy.
She couldn't keep bringing supplies back visibly.
Time to use the Loot Box to smuggle things in—even if it meant extra trips.
But there was still the issue of how to load supplies into the Loot Box without drawing attention.
Chu Yian walked briskly, frowning in deep thought.
Rain continued to fall, the fine mist soaking into her clothes with a lingering chill. The damp air carried a faint but growing musty odor.
Suddenly, she passed by a storefront with a "For Rent" sign plastered on the door.
Her steps halted.
An idea sparked—she could rent a shop and use it as a cover to stash supplies.
She quickened her pace and entered.
The owner saw someone come in and greeted her warmly:
"What are you looking for, miss?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask how much the shop costs to rent."
The woman blinked in surprise, not expecting such a question.
She sized Chu Yian up, clearly doubting she could afford it.
"Well... it's a bit pricey. 6,000 a month, pay three months upfront, plus a deposit. So that's four months total. Earliest move-in is mid-month."
Mid-month? That's way too late. The mold apocalypse wouldn't wait.
Chu Yian shook her head and walked out.
The whole street seemed half-abandoned—one-third of the shops were up for rent.
She spent some time calling transfer listings and finally locked down a remote, dirt-cheap unit where she could get the keys the next day.
The deal closed quickly.
The previous shop owner who hadn't leased to her earlier saw her walking by and muttered:
"Doing business on this street? You'll go bankrupt before you even open."
Chu Yian heard her and stopped, her gaze icy.
She glanced over at the woman's dusty "For Lease" sign and shot back:
"You can't even rent your place out. Who's really going bankrupt here?"
The woman's face turned green. She hadn't expected to be overheard—and roasted so hard.
Chu Yian walked off, expression proud.
Afraid of her? Please. She'd stared down death itself.
She wouldn't get the keys until tomorrow, so for now, stockpiling had to wait.
But if she couldn't stock food, she could still prep other survival essentials.
Every survivalist needs the Big Three:
A reinforced front door,
A car ready to escape at any time,
And a stash of basic medicine—for injuries, colds, or emergencies.
By the time she got back home that night, Chu Yian's arms were sore.
She decided to cook something simple for dinner.
When she opened the rice bag—
She froze.
A layer of green mold had already crept across the surface.
She'd bought that rice just last night.
And now it was already spoiled.