Chapter 4

"Ahhh—! My action figures!"

Ethan let out a desperate shriek, lunging at me like a madman to snatch the gasoline can from my hand.

I sidestepped, easily avoiding him.

His emaciated body couldn't even touch a single one of my fingers.

"Sarah! You lunatic! If you touch my action figures, I'll kill you!" His eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a grimace.

Eleanor was also dumbfounded, pointing at me, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word.

I watched Ethan coldly, placed the gasoline can on the ground, and then pulled a lighter from my pocket.

"Click."

A small, orange flame danced at my fingertips.

"Both of you, go get all the coal from the sewer. Not a single piece missing," I said, my voice calm.

Ethan's body froze.

Eleanor's eyes widened in disbelief. "You want us to dig in the sewer? That's disgusting! No way!"

"Exactly! Sarah, don't go too far!" Ethan snarled, though his voice lacked conviction. "Do you think I'm afraid of you? Go ahead and light it! These action figures are worth a house! If you dare to burn them, I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail!"

He was talking about pre-apocalypse prices.

In this era, a house was worth less than a single compressed food bar.

I didn't bother with more words.

I simply moved the lighter forward gently.

The flame instantly licked at the gasoline-soaked glass cabinet.

"Whoosh—"

Blue flames roared to life, engulfing the entire cabinet in an instant.

Choking black smoke billowed upwards, and the stench of burning plastic was nauseating.

Ethan's pupils contracted violently in the firelight.

"No—!"

He let out a desperate wail, collapsing to the ground, watching in despair as his "limited editions" twisted and melted in the fierce flames, turning into puddles of black liquid.

Eleanor also collapsed to the ground in terror, a foul odor emanating from her pants.

She had actually peed herself.

I watched it all until the entire cabinet was reduced to a charred skeleton, then extinguished the flames with a fire extinguisher.

The room was a mess.

The temperature began to drop again.

I turned around, looked at the dazed mother and son, and repeated my words.

"Go, retrieve the coal."

This time, no one argued.

Ethan looked like his soul had been sucked out, his eyes vacant. Eleanor, in extreme fear, trembled uncontrollably.

I walked up to her and shoved the cold iron shovel into her hand.

"Go."

Eleanor flinched, almost dropping the shovel again.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of fear and pleading.

They had personally destroyed our shared path to survival; they would have to personally retrieve it.

Under my stare, Eleanor tremblingly picked up the shovel and a bucket, and with a zombie-like Ethan, walked towards the foul-smelling sewer.

The cold, viscous sewage quickly soaked their pant legs.

Eleanor retched, but seeing me standing not far away, she gritted her teeth and plunged the shovel into the sludge.

The task of retrieving the coal was harder than expected.

The sewer contained not only coal dust but also three years' worth of various household waste and excrement.

Every shovelful Eleanor and Ethan pulled out was like digging up a putrid piece of evidence from hell.

Eleanor threw up several times, eventually even spitting up bile.

Ethan remained silent throughout, mechanically repeating the digging and dumping motions.

Suddenly, Ethan tripped over something in the sewer and let out a terrified scream.

"Ah! Something! Something's biting me!"