In his last life, an extreme cold of minus 100 degrees swept across the world. The sun disappeared and civilization collapsed. He froze to death on the street, and no one took a second look.
In this life, he bound to infinite space, hoarded goods crazily, made hundreds of billions, and built the strongest shelter.
Everyone was laughing that he was crazy.
"Starding cotton-padded jackets when the temperature is 40 degrees Celsius? You must be mentally ill."
"Spend a billion to build a shelter? This person is hopeless."
Until the end really comes.
Those who had laughed at him were frozen into ice sculptures, kneeling outside his shelter and crying for help.
Lin Chuan was wearing short sleeves, blowing on the heater, and slowly took a sip of hot coffee:
