Pain—raw, tearing, bone‑deep pain.

Cliff Andrews lay in a pool of his own blood, a knife buried in his chest so deep he could barely breathe, let alone move. He never imagined that his own wife would choose the moment he was asleep to stab him.

“Harold, hurry up and finish this waste. Once we take his storage ability, the three of us can finally live on our own. We won’t ever have to rely on him again.”

Right after Christine Bate said that, Harold Bennett twisted the knife. Cliff’s vision went white with agony.

Watching the two of them standing so close, like some twisted couple, he tried again and again to get up, but his limbs wouldn’t listen.

“Why…? Was I not good enough to you? You two actually planned this together?”

Harold let out a cold snort and looked down at him with that mocking, superior stare Cliff knew too well.

“Cliff, are you still not getting it?”

“Little Ming is my kid. Mine and your wife’s. And for the past two years, thanks for helping me take care of them both.”

Boom.

The words hit Cliff like lightning straight to the skull.

After the world collapsed, when food and clean water were rarer than gold, he had fought tooth and nail just to keep this so‑called family alive.

Harold had been his bro before the apocalypse, someone he trusted. But the moment everything fell apart, they lost contact.

Three months ago, Cliff had found Harold dumped in the snow, on the brink of being chopped up and eaten by scavengers. Even knowing supplies were painfully scarce, Cliff hadn’t hesitated—he pulled him back from death without a second thought.

And this… this was how Harold repaid him.

He’d brought a wolf into his home. A wolf with human skin.

His brother betrayed him. His wife cheated on him. And the kid he raised for two and a half years wasn’t even his.

Hate burned through him—hot, bitter, enough to choke the last breath out of his chest.

"If I ever get another shot at life, I swear I won’t let either of you walk away."

"Hah! Save that for the King of Hell!"

Harold Bennett’s laugh was cold and sharp. The moment he yanked the blade free, blood burst out like a broken dam. Cliff Andrews felt pain drill straight into his bones, his vision shaking, darkening at the edges.

"You filthy traitors… even as a ghost, I’ll hunt you down…"

Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was pure despair, but the world started spinning, nausea clawing up his throat—

Then he jolted awake.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. He forced himself to lift his head, fighting the dizziness. Through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows, tall buildings pierced a bright blue sky.

"What… what the hell? I died. I definitely died."

He stared around the room. Everything looked painfully familiar.

That desk. That couch. And his secretary—black stockings, killer curves, flipping through paperwork like always.

"This… this is my old office?"

Warm air drifted in through the window. Sweat pricked his back.

After the apocalypse hit, the whole world got buried under snow and ice. Temperatures crashed so low breathing felt like punishment. Heat like this shouldn’t even exist.

"Manager Cliff? Are you okay?"

Vivian Aubert set the files down, confusion shining in her eyes.

"I’m fine… yeah, I’m fine. You can head out first."

He held himself together until she left, then grabbed his phone with shaking hands.

August 1st, 2080.

His breath caught.

"I really came back… half a month before everything fell apart."

Half a month later—August 15th, 2080.

It had been the height of summer. Then, out of nowhere, snow slammed down across the entire planet and didn’t stop for six months. Just like that, Earth was shoved straight into a new ice age.

In just half a year, ninety percent of all life on Earth had been wiped out by the insane, bone‑cracking cold.

People died everywhere, whole cities turning into frozen graveyards.

With the extreme temperature and the total collapse of supplies, humanity’s numbers plummeted. Two years later, out of ten billion people, only eight hundred million were still breathing.

In that kind of hellish environment, all food disappeared. When nothing edible was left, people started eating… people.

Laws, rules, morals—everything shattered.

As long as someone could fill their stomach, they’d do anything. Absolutely anything.

And in that nightmare, if Cliff Andrews hadn’t awakened his spatial ability, there was no way he could have kept his whole family alive.

Not only did none of them die, even little Chen Xiaoming ended up chubby and healthy under his care.

Damn. What a joke.

The kid he raised for two and a half years wasn’t even his.

“Based on the timing… Christine Bate must already be carrying Harold Bennett’s child.”

A cold, violent gleam burst through Cliff’s eyes.

Since fate tossed him a second chance, there was no way he’d let Christine and Harold—the two snakes—walk away clean.

“Just wait. I’ll make sure you regret ever being born.”

“Hm?”

Cliff suddenly froze, a sharp flash cutting through his mind.

“This is… my old spatial ability?”

He waved his hand on instinct.

The cup on the table vanished on the spot.

With a thought, it reappeared exactly where it had been, steam still rising from the untouched hot water.

A breath he didn’t know he was holding escaped from his chest, turning into excitement so strong it made his hands tremble.

“Perfect. With this space, I can stockpile everything I need. When the apocalypse hits… I’ll be living however I damn want.”

Cliff was practically buzzing with joy.

The second year after the apocalypse hit, a massive meteor slammed into Earth, dragging along a virus that sent countless people into grotesque mutations. Some were twisted into monsters on the spot, while others, by some messed‑up luck, awakened powers.

Cliff Andrews was one of the “lucky” ones. He awakened a spatial ability.

Too bad that in his last life, by the time his ability kicked in, every scrap of supplies had already been looted clean. There was literally nothing left for him to stockpile.

But this time? This time he wasn’t going to miss his shot.

In the apocalypse, even a single pack of instant noodles could make someone swear loyalty to you. A cheap sausage was enough to make a woman strip without hesitation. In a world where resources were worth more than lives, dignity was just… optional.

Whoever held the supplies held absolute power.

Of course, stockpiles alone weren’t enough. You needed weapons too.

Because once society collapsed, the one holding the gun would be the only one whose words mattered.

As the saying went: if your neighbor is hoarding food, you hoard guns. The neighbor becomes your walking pantry.

Within a few minutes, Cliff had already sorted out his plans for the next two weeks.

One: stockpile. This was non‑negotiable—his quality of life after doomsday depended on it.

Two: revenge. On Christine Bate and Harold Bennett, that shameless pair, and on everyone else who had stepped on him in his past life. Cliff wasn’t letting a single one of them off the hook.

But before all that, he had to cut ties with Christine first.

She and Harold wanted to hook up? Fine. He’d make sure they got exactly what they wanted.

Cliff called in his secretary, settled all remaining company tasks, and immediately took his annual leave.

Stockpiling needed money. A lot of money. But that was no problem for Cliff.

Since he knew the apocalypse was coming, every asset—houses, cars, investments—would all be liquidated and turned into supplies.

With the plan in mind, Cliff rushed home.

The moment he stepped through the door, he heard noises coming from the bedroom.

“Harold… if Cliff finds out I’m carrying your baby, we’re both screwed.”

“How would that loser figure anything out? Worst case, you just treat him nice for a night and let him raise our kid for me.”

“Harold, you’re horrible… seriously.”

“Come on. He’s still at work, right? Hurry up and let me enjoy you while that waste of space is out.”

Even though Cliff Andrews had known about their affair long before this, hearing it with his own ears still hit him like a hammer. His fists clenched, his whole body shaking with rage he could barely hold back.

“Oh, and try to squeeze some more cash out of that spineless idiot. I’m thinking of getting a new sports car. I’ll take you for a ride.”

“Okay… whatever you say.”

Cliff’s breath caught. The fury boiling in his chest finally snapped its leash. He lifted his leg and slammed the door open with a single kick.

“You two make me sick. Really got your little scheme all planned out, huh?”