The Apocalypse Survival Manual

After paying the deposit, Nicole drove straight to the largest outdoor gear store downtown.

The outdoor gear market was fiercely competitive. The store was in full clearance mode, shutting down with brutal discounts. Some items were marked down to 20% of the original price.

Perfect timing.

Nicole grabbed two rigid-hull assault boats and four inflatable rafts, emergency kits for earthquakes and fires, tents, a fire axe, climbing rope, binoculars, radios, waterproof flashlights, and oversized solar chargers.

Anything meant to keep her alive had to be top quality. No compromises.

Seeing a big spender, the staff got enthusiastic, pushing jackets and sleeping bags. "Everything's on sale today. Quality guaranteed."

Nicole looked unimpressed. "Got anything that works at minus 90 degrees?"

The clerk gasped, "Minus 90? It's summer all year long here. What good is that to anyone?"

"I'm heading to Northreach for research," she replied.

She didn't look like she was joking.

The clerk quickly called around, then lowered his voice. "We can get polar-grade cold-weather suits and mummy sleeping bags. Layered together, they'll hold. Price is high, and the stock's out of state."

The supplier ran an online shop. The reviews looked solid. Overnight express delivery could get them there by tomorrow afternoon.

Nicole ordered two sets of each and paid about 1,200 dollars.

She spent another 2,400 at the outdoor store. The truck was packed full. When no one was looking, she slipped everything into her storage space.

The boats needed gasoline, but gasoline wasn’t sold to private buyers in bulk.

She bought siphon pumps and fuel drums from an auto shop, filled her truck at several gas stations, and then drove to a spot without cameras. Using the siphon, she transferred fuel into the drums.

After several trips, she had around 130 gallons of gasoline.

The apocalypse was chaos. Violence was everywhere.

She stopped by a security supply store. "I'm going to Downrange."

The owner's expression changed instantly. He pulled out his best stock. "You must have the best equipment."

Nicole bought three sets of slash-resistant, stab-resistant armor and two bulletproof vests.

With no time to waste, she drove straight to the largest clothing wholesale market on the outskirts.

Down jackets, military-style coats, cashmere sweaters, thermal layers, scarves, gloves, socks, snow boots with grip, lightweight sneakers, insulated shoes, and slippers. Nicole got anything she could think of, anything she might possibly need.

She didn't care about the brand. Just quality.

She dropped another 2,400 dollars on clothes, then crossed over to the neighboring household goods wholesale center.

There, she got comforters and down blankets. For thick cotton quilts, she bought three each in 8-pound and 10-pound weights, all vacuum-sealed.

She also bought shampoo, body wash, laundry detergent, sanitary pads, tampons, toilet paper, toothpaste, toothbrushes, insulated thermos bottles, lighters, and rubber hot water bottles

She bought 20 thousand disposable heat packs. Those things saved lives in the deep freeze.

One vendor sold rare items online, such as glass kerosene lamps and storm lanterns, waterproof and windproof. They were old-school designs from decades ago. She bought five of each.

"Do you have kerosene?"

They did, but it barely sold. The shop had only about 26 gallons in stock.

Nicole bought every drop and asked for extra lamp wicks. Those were way more durable than candles.

Then she purchased alcohol stoves, solid fuel blocks, and portable gas burners. Remembering that her storage space had power, she added a few induction cooktops.

She also got bug spray, disinfectant, water purification tablets, and insect repellent. Anything she could think of.

The total damage came to about 4,000 dollars.

Next door was the produce wholesale market. She bought apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, melons, peaches, and more; around twenty kinds of fruit. Another 1,200 was gone.

When Nicole left the market, it was already dark.

Several missed calls lit up her phone. They were all from Jeremy. His message said the shipment was ready.

Nicole drove to his company's building. More than 20 large boxes waited for her. Inside were antibiotics, anti-inflammatory meds, iodine solution, medical alcohol, gauze, and even tetanus vaccines.

These were all lifesaving supplies in a disaster scenario.

It had cost her a fortune, but the knot in her chest finally loosened.

Jeremy transferred her a 400-dollar cut of his commission as a thank-you for the massive order.

He flashed his phone at her with a grin. "Here’s your cut. Check your phone. I gotta say, that list of yours was wild. A lot of stuff wasn't even available, so I had to pull some major favors—but I got it all sorted."

"I'll deliver this first," Nicole said from the driver's seat. "I'll treat you to a big meal in a few days. A super typhoon's coming. Remember to stock up on food and fuel."

Jeremy didn't take it seriously. They'd had over a dozen typhoons this year already. Every time, it was the same story: lots of warnings, but hardly any damage.

Nicole stored the medicine, then drove to the food street near Westbridge University. She ordered burgers, loaded fries, and a couple of beers.

The street was packed with students and couples, all wearing smiles and full of life. No one had any idea what was about to hit.

The burgers took time. Nicole stared at the grill.

Then, it hit her.

Damn it. She almost forgot the most important thing.

She immediately asked the vendor for contacts selling charcoal, coal briquettes, and propane tanks.

She called them one by one, asking for next-day delivery.

But luck wasn't on her side. All the shops were in low-lying areas. Authorities had ordered them to move the inventory, so no one had time.

Three of them were clustered in the same zone. Nicole didn't even wait for her food. She drove straight there.

Charcoal was cheap but bulky. She checked her storage space and ordered 500 pounds of smokeless high-heat charcoal, plus a charcoal grill and fire starters.

One propane tank lasted about two months. In case the power cut out, she bought ten.

Coal briquettes burned forever, but with nationwide power shortages and trade sanctions against Travinia, prices had gone insane.

Nicole bit the bullet and bought 2,000.

It was nearly nine when she got back to the apartment. She took a short break, then entered her storage space to organize the chaos.

To save room, she stacked the propane tanks, briquettes, and charcoal tightly in the kitchen area. She stripped unnecessary packaging, vacuum-sealed anything fluffy, and stacked everything layer by layer up to the ceiling.

Money really did vanish fast. By the end of the day, Nicole had spent a staggering amount. The small bedroom and kitchen were filled, taking up roughly 1,800 cubic feet.

She had just finished when something slammed into her.

Nicole flew backward and tumbled out of the storage space.

She sat there, stunned.

"Huh…?"

She tried to enter again, but an invisible barrier blocked her.

What the hell?

The storage space had swallowed her supplies and kicked her out!