The fog has descended on the whole people, and the extremely cold apocalypse has suddenly begun. In the wind and snow at 30 degrees below zero, everyone is struggling to survive. I awaken the train symbiosis system, bind the nuclear constant-temperature train, and take in reliable partners to infinitely upgrade the firepower and unlock massive survival supplies. Others gnawed tree bark to the point of death from the cold, but I ate hot pot with red oil in a temperature-controlled carriage, which was so satisfying that I felt so good. Until there was a desperate knock on the door from outside the car - the condescending female CEO who had kicked me out in public before was leading her daughter on the verge of freezing to death in the wind and snow. She put aside all her pride and cried for me to open the door. I sneered through the bulletproof glass and threw out a flight attendant uniform: If you want to survive, put aside your arrogance and trade labor for survival qualifications. She was once arrogant and gave in with tears, but the train is about to blow its whistle and depart. Who is the real controller in this apocalyptic survival?
