In the Apocalypse, I Awakened the Blond-Hair System

Civilization? That thing is more fragile than the rusted undercarriage in a junkyard.

When the last oil well lets out a despairing groan, the world's battered old car finally breaks down for good. It wasn't a virus or a nuclear winter. It was something hard and cold that jammed every gear: no more fuel. Steel behemoths lie dead on the highways, cities have become morgues, and survivors forage for food like rats among rusted skeletons. Fang Qing stands atop the ruins. He knows this is his era.