Ch8 Leaving the Country, Buying Life-Saving Weapons
Before the torrential rain hit, some households had stored grain, believing the downpour would pass quickly.
Many seized the opportunity to profit, trading grain for cash.
In the book, Li Shanyang and his group initially used the money Meng Ci gave them to buy food, only to later brutally kill him.
Now, Meng Ci had tricked them into spending their money, leaving them even worse off when the storm hit.
"Ding."
Hearing the doorbell ring, Meng Ci opened the door to find a pastry shop delivery person.
"Hello, is this Mr. Li Shanyang? Here are the pastries you ordered."
"That's me." Meng Ci stepped aside.
"Just put them wherever you can. I'll have someone come arrange them later."
"Understood, sir." The staff nodded and began carrying the pastries inside one after another.
As they unloaded the pastries, the first batch of beverage delivery staff arrived. Meng Ci also told them to place the drinks wherever convenient.
After both groups departed, Meng Ci drew the curtains tight and swiftly stowed everything into his spatial pocket.
The storage space had an auto-organizing function, categorizing items by type-even cakes could be sorted by flavor.
After expanding to two and a half stories, the space showed no further changes.
Based on the room sizes, Meng Ci planned to make the first floor with two bedrooms, one bathroom, and an open-concept kitchen.
The second floor would hold three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The third floor remained empty-Ming Ci hadn't even considered a walk-in closet.
For the outdoor space, he'd purchased numerous clothes racks and drying stands. Earlier, when receiving deliveries, he'd instructed the couriers to hang everything neatly by category. All those items were already stored in his spatial pocket.
With the room layout finalized, Ming Ci resumed his shopping spree.
Beds, sofas, water heaters, showerheads, pots, bowls, ladles, basins...
He ordered multiple sets of each item, all to be delivered to the warehouse. Since it was within the same city, everything would arrive by tomorrow evening at the latest.
For generators, Meng Ci placed an order for a hundred units outright.
He purchased fifty solar power systems, a hundred solar lights, solar fans, solar portable chargers, solar surveillance cameras...
Any solar-powered product that Meng Ci could find, he bought.
After torrential rains and blizzards came half a year of scorching sun-solar products would be invaluable then.
His attention then turned to drones. Meng Ci had never flown one, but he selected several models and ordered them all. Money was no object.
Only after stowing everything away did Meng Ci leave.
That evening, upon returning home, Meng Ci received a photo from Li Xiaoya-a dreamy princess bed. Glancing at the invoice, he saw it cost over 500,000 yuan.
Meng Ci gasped. Even with his current wealth, he wouldn't splurge on something that expensive.
"It's gorgeous. I'll reimburse you next month."
Meng Ci sent the message and received Li Xiaoya's voice reply: "Love you, big bro."
The sound sent shivers down Meng Ci's spine.
Over the next few days, Meng Ci continued ordering takeout and receiving packages at the warehouse.
Once the car was modified, Meng Ci had the owner drive it straight to the warehouse, then stored everything in the space.
The space hadn't changed since Meng Ci placed the gold bars inside. He roughly estimated its dimensions by pacing it out-roughly a thousand square meters.
Shelves held neatly arranged items, leaving ample empty space.
On the tenth day of the apocalypse countdown, Meng Ci traveled to the United States.
After landing, dusk was falling, but having slept through the flight, he entered a pre-researched bar wide awake..
The place was thick with smoke, the music deafening.
Meng Ci surveyed the room before settling on a bald, tattooed, muscle-bound man.
He pulled out a wad of dollars and, in fluent English, stated he wanted to discuss business.
Meng Ci had researched this bar thoroughly-it was frequented by underworld figures.
He chose this particular man based on his past work experience and extensive contacts; his instincts told him this guy was capable.
The man downed the drink in his glass in one gulp, took the money from Meng Ci's hand, and led him into a room.
"What do you want?" the man asked.
Meng Ci stated directly, "Guns, knives, bows and arrows, bulletproof vests..."
The U.S. didn't ban firearms or ammunition. In the apocalypse, a reliable weapon was essential for survival.
That was why Meng Ci had asked Liang Xiu to help secure a passport in the first place-to buy these items.
No matter how skilled you were in the apocalypse, nothing intimidated others like a gun.
"Oh, right. Gasoline and diesel, too."
"And all kinds of Chinese medicine." The generators Meng Ci bought ran on either diesel or gasoline, and the vehicles in his storage space all required gasoline.
But obtaining these items domestically came with significant restrictions.
He certainly didn't want to end up in prison for purchasing dangerous goods before the apocalypse even began.
"Money isn't an issue. Name your price."
"As for quantity, the more the better."
The man seemed startled by Meng Ci, swallowing hard. "What do you need all this for?"
He thought to himself: Aren't Easterners supposed to value peace?
This guy wants so much at once -could he be planning some violent attack?
If it ever traced back to him, would he be in danger?
Meng Ci didn't respond, his tone solemn. "Can you do it or not?"
The man nodded. "Of course."
In the end, however, he was swayed by the sight of the crisp, white cash and took the job.
He was an American. Even if this man planned a riot, it wouldn't concern him.
"But don't they say Easterners speak more indirectly? Why are you so blunt?"
Meng Ci chuckled lightly. "We also have a saying: 'get straight to the point.' Beating around the bush isn't my style."
"Since you can do it, I'll leave it to you."
"Oh, and remember to rent a warehouse for me to store some things."
"No problem." The man agreed.
Meng Ci pulled out a card. "This card holds five hundred million yuan. The PIN is four sixes. Use it first. If it's not enough, come back to me."
Finding it bothersome to exchange yuan for US dollars, Meng Ci simply handed over the yuan.
Meng Ci trusted that this man had channels to exchange currency.
Money was the most abundant resource in Meng Ci's account now. It was practically useless in the apocalypse, but anything money could handle was no problem at all.
The man took the card and said, "No problem."
He then had the man find him a secure place to stay.
On the fifth day, Meng Ci went out during the day to buy some items unavailable domestically, muttering to himself that Western cuisine just couldn't compare to Chinese food.
Still, he bought steaks, salads, pizza, pasta, and similar items, stowing them in his spatial pocket.
He also visited a winery and purchased a batch of red wine.
On the final day, the man arrived to deliver the goods. Meng Ci didn't even count the items. He knew these desperados valued their reputation above all else, so without hesitation, he handed over another five hundred million yuan.
The man took the money and left satisfied. Meng Ci promptly stored all the goods in his spatial pocket.
He didn't bother worrying about surveillance or being discovered -after all, the apocalypse was only five days away.
Once the end truly came, the United States and China would be separated by vast distances, making it impossible for them to find him.
Besides, even if he spoke up now, no one would believe him.
Thus, Meng Ci felt no fear whatsoever.
If push came to shove, he could simply hide in his spatial pocket for five days, leaving his pursuers utterly helpless.
Back home, Meng Ci slept soundly. After settling the bill with the two delivery guys who'd helped him collect packages, he began sorting his own parcels and ordering takeout.