Doomsday Survival Rules for Those in Their Thirties

She was thirty years old and had been a professional boxer. After retiring, she finally compromised and put on a suit and work badge. Trying to live a "stable life" that my family expects. But fate only gave her five days at the counter, and the world collapsed. Now, that ill-fitting bank uniform has long been torn into strips. And the ferocity, rhythm and one-hit kill that the ring taught her are awakening little by little. My younger brother is still in a university town 300 kilometers away. Communications are cut off and his life or death is uncertain. She must go - even if there is a tide of corpses, thugs, or the final abyss of humanity ahead. That day, a man named V stood beside her. He buried his past self with his own hands, his eyes as empty as this dead city. "I'll help you find someone," he said, "and you teach me... How to continue living." Fighting back to back, not asking about the past, not talking about feelings, only calculating whether there is water today and whether you can survive tomorrow. ——In this wasteland, survival is the only faith. [Rational flow｜Main line of searching for relatives｜Former boxer heroine｜Two strong cooperation｜No CP direction｜Details control the end of the world]