I died in the winter of the fifth year of the apocalypse, bitten alive by mutant rats.
Before I died, I gave the half piece of moldy compressed biscuit I had worked so hard to find to the little girl I found in the ruins.
She called me sister.
When I opened my eyes again, the air conditioner was blowing warm air at 28 degrees Celsius, and the pictures of fried chicken burgers on the mobile phone takeout app were bright and dazzling.
——I went back to half a year before the disaster.
I didn't cry or laugh, I just calmly opened my bank account.
Looking at the 8-digit balance above and the dual-zone space appearing out of thin air in my palm, I only had one thought:
This time, I want to build a fort where the power never goes out and there is always hot food.
I want to stockpile enough supplies for ten thousand people to survive for ten years.
That winter was so cold that I didn't want to experience it again.
