As the apocalypse loomed, the power of the blizzard intensified by the hour.
The Ice Age was here.
As for the optimistic news on public channels, it was only a matter of time before such broadcasts would be remembered as a cruel joke.
By now, the powerful of Chicago had likely retreated to the nearest fallout shelters, leaving the rest of the public foolishly hopeful that the catastrophe would simply pass.
In the upscale residents' group chat for Cloud Heights, the messages started coming in.
For a high-end residential area, the property management's response was swift. The manager promptly assured residents that the team would do everything to protect their safety and send out workers to clear the accumulating snow.
Of course, such words were meaningless.
Once the full brunt of the Ice Age set in, these workers would be the first to raid supplies, commandeering food from various households.
The loud, brash woman next door was the first to have her pantry ransacked.
Naturally, larger individuals tend to store more food, as they fear hunger. What had once been a practical habit now became her fatal flaw.
Perhaps sensing the looming disaster, the woman spoke up in the group chat: "What nonsense about 'proactively ensuring safety'? My heater's stopped working, and you better send someone to fix it—now!"
The property manager replied apologetically, "Sorry, Ms. Niu, but the storm is too severe, and our repair team cannot go out."
"Rubbish! I don't care if it's a blizzard… it's already below freezing in my house. Are you trying to freeze me to death?"
Someone else chimed in: "I'm not as blunt, but this cold is brutal. We're a southern city, and our heating systems aren't equipped for this. Mine isn't working either."
"Hear that?"
Ms. Niu fumed, "You useless lot. We pay you so much, yet you can't handle this? Expect a complaint!"
"…"
The argument in the group chat escalated.
These elites, usually so refined, had stripped off their masks of civility in the face of such extreme conditions.
Yet, from their complaints, Miles could tell they hadn't grasped the true extent of the crisis.
They were only frustrated with the immediate discomfort.
After skimming a few more messages, Miles closed his phone and picked up his PSP.
Compared to the anxious residents, he was entirely at ease.
The outcome was inevitable; all he had to do was wait and watch as time passed.
With his supplies worth billions stored away, he could easily live off them until the world ceased to exist.
…
Ding!
The phone's ringing pulled Miles from his nap.
Yawning, he glanced out at the relentless snowfall before reaching lazily for his phone.
"Miles, are you up?"
He paused, recognizing Zeki's voice.
Checking the time, he muttered sleepily, "It's only 6:30. How could I be? What's up? If it's nothing, I'm hanging up."
"What?"
Zeki seemed startled by his irritation.
Miles repeated, "I said, if you have something to say, say it quickly."
With Ella out of the picture thanks to Zeki, his revenge was half complete. The other half would come at nature's hands. He no longer felt the need to pretend around Zeki.
There was a beat of silence on her end, as though she was about to snap, but her tone quickly softened, "Miles, it's so cold today, and the snow hasn't stopped. My heater's broken, and I don't have much to eat. Could you bring me something?"
Clearly, the overnight change had awakened many people to the growing threat.
Even someone as oblivious as Zeki had developed a sense of urgency over food.
"Well, I had no idea it would snow today. Even a rich man's pantry isn't endless."
Miles leaned back, too comfortable in his Sealy mattress to move, his voice a lazy drawl, "Besides, if you're cold, I'm cold too. Why would I risk going out in a snowstorm just to bring you food?"
His villa was kept at a cozy 25°C, and he wasn't about to feign sympathy.
"You…"
He could hear Zeki's teeth chattering over the phone, either from anger or the cold.
She stammered, "Didn't you say you liked me? Now you won't even bring me a little food? I thought we could go see a movie together when the snow stops."
Classic baiting.
In the past, her flirtation would have made Miles' day.
But now, he found it nauseating. "Hah, I'll be honest with you. This snow will likely fall for another month. If you go out, you'll freeze to death or be buried alive."
"Miles!"
Zeki's patience finally broke, though she bit her tongue before saying more.
Wait… had he said a whole month of snow?
Recovering, her voice took on its familiar sweetness. "Miles, is that true? A whole month… But I only have a few packets of ramen and some fruit drinks. What am I going to do?"
A faint sob escaped her, barely audible yet loud enough to reach him.
Miles chuckled bitterly. "You'd better ration what you have. I have plenty of food, but it's just not possible to bring it over…"
"Aren't you in Cloud Heights?"
"Uh…"
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Damn, was she planning to show up at his doorstep?
But he smirked. Let her try. The snow would likely bury her before she made it halfway.
"Oh, wonderful! I just moved into Building 2, Unit 203 in Section F yesterday. We're practically neighbors!"
Section F was the standard apartments, and even that came at a steep $2,000 monthly rent.
This girl was truly willing to spend to catch her prey.
"Oh…"
"If I'd known we were so close, I'd have suggested we move in together, hehe…"
Zeki joked lightly, then quickly added, "But don't get the wrong idea. I'm not that kind of girl. Just kidding, really."
I'm laying it on thick—he must be tempted by now!
But Miles only sneered, "I was wondering. A villa wouldn't share space with an apartment."
On the other end, Zeki's tone stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Idiot…"
Miles had had enough and hung up.
Beeep. Beeep.
Zeki stared at the phone, her pale face flushing with rage.
"Miles, you bastard!"
"How dare you hang up on me! Just you wait! I've been around the block, and you think you can get one over on me? Wait and see—I won't let you get away with this!"