Chapter 3

I didn't argue with them anymore.

I silently watched the numbers on the thermometer drop from -10°C all the way to -15°C.

Eleanor and Ethan finally started to feel the cold.

"Oh no, why... why is it so cold?" Eleanor rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering.

Ethan was also shaking with cold. He looked at me, his voice demanding, "Sarah, don't you have other things to warm us up? Get them out now! Do you want to freeze us to death?"

Three years ago, when the Extreme Cold Apocalypse hit, they, mother and son, immediately took all my savings and fled into an official climate-controlled human base.

They abandoned me in this house, which I had personally renovated, leaving me to fend for myself.

For three years, they thought I had died in some forgotten corner, never once checking on me.

But then, three days ago, they appeared at my door, looking haggard and defeated, claiming the base had kicked them out.

I looked at their thin clothes and faces, purple with cold, and actually felt a moment of weakness, relenting and letting them in.

Now it seemed this was the most foolish mistake I had made in three years.

I ignored Ethan's shouts and turned to my tool shed, dragging out a disassembled solid wood table.

I had originally planned to use it to reinforce the fences once spring arrived.

I took out an axe and silently chopped the table legs and tabletop into pieces suitable for the stove.

"Thump!" "Thump!" "Thump!"

Dull thudding sounds of chopping wood echoed in the silent, cold room.

Eleanor and Ethan watched me, their eyes filled with confusion and disdain.

"Sarah, what are you doing? Burning furniture? Are you crazy? That's terrible luck!"

"You've managed to survive this long, so your conditions can't be bad. Are you just trying to provoke us?" Eleanor shrieked.

"Exactly! You must be hiding good stuff; don't think we don't know!" Ethan chimed in. "Quick, get out the good coal! This rotten wood creates so much smoke, it's suffocating! What if it damages my action figures? Can you even afford to replace them?"

I said nothing, just mechanically chopped the wood.

Soon, the stove was re-lit. Orange flames surged, bringing a long-awaited warmth.

But the thick smoke from burning wood quickly spread, filling the entire house with a choking smell.

The thermometer numbers slowly climbed back to -8°C, but didn't rise further.

The heat value of burning wood was far inferior to anthracite coal.

Eleanor and Ethan coughed repeatedly, tears streaming from their eyes.

"Cough, cough, cough... Sarah! I order you! Put this fire out immediately! Get out your good stuff!" Ethan yelled at me, covering his mouth and nose.

"Yes! Hurry! If it ruins my God of Prosperity, can you bear the responsibility?" Eleanor echoed.

I stopped chopping wood and slowly lifted my head, my gaze sweeping over their faces, red from lack of oxygen.

Then, I walked to the corner and picked up a 20-liter spare gasoline can.

I unscrewed the cap, and the heavy smell of gasoline instantly overpowered the smoke from the wood.

Eleanor and Ethan's faces changed.

"You... what are you going to do?" Ethan's voice held a trace of fear.

I didn't answer. I just carried the gasoline can, step by step, to his glass display cabinet.

His "limited edition" action figures inside the cabinet looked cold and rigid in the dim firelight.

"Don't... don't touch my action figures!" Ethan's body tensed.

I tilted the gasoline can slightly.

"Splash—"

Amber liquid poured onto the top of the glass cabinet, slowly seeping through the cracks.