Though Miles felt a twinge of disappointment, he understood well that in a vast city like Chicago, it was hardly surprising that others would have thought of the same thing.
Survival was everyone's priority.
When disaster strikes, ordinary people might need time to react, but the authorities were always alert.
They must have already devised their contingency plans. Even if they couldn't predict the future like Miles, their power far outweighed his.
This was precisely why Miles hadn't waited for the city to descend into chaos before looting those warehouses.
The high-ranking individuals were too clever, their sources of information far-reaching, and their authority overwhelming.
Still, Miles hadn't given up hope.
The warehouses that had been ransacked were evidence enough that the authorities' actions had been rushed.
Despite their vast resources and manpower, they simply hadn't had enough time to transport all the supplies.
There would undoubtedly be some left behind.
The two set off again, leaving the city center and heading toward the outskirts. Though this area wasn't as bustling as downtown, it was still home to a larger population.
In America, after all, ordinary people outnumbered everyone else. They simply couldn't afford the exorbitantly priced houses in the city.
The greater the population, the higher the resource consumption. It was in places like this, where the powerful rarely ventured, that Miles might stumble upon an unexpected windfall.
As expected, the two arrived at a 4S automotive park on the outskirts.
Inside were various sales and service shops for major car brands, with countless vehicles on display. Even stock cars worth hundreds of millions were abandoned here.
Miles, like a ravenous leech, didn't even spare the affordable vehicles, sweeping them all into his space with little hesitation.
After all, his mental space had vast capacity. To this day, he still hadn't figured out its upper limits, so he decided to take this opportunity to experiment.
"Wow, a G-Wagon!"
Ryan exclaimed upon entering a Mercedes showroom, his eyes instantly drawn to the imposing black vehicle.
Even Miles couldn't help but linger a moment longer, taking a second glance.
When he had bought his E600, this was the very car that had caught his eye. Unfortunately, with a price tag of over three million, even someone of his social standing had felt a pinch.
Now, however, he could take it without spending a single penny.
Though driving it was out of the question unless he could somehow clear the icy roads.
The two exchanged knowing glances and smiled in unison.
With a swift motion, Miles stored the G-Wagon in his space, then proceeded to take all the other models in the showroom. In the blink of an eye, the entire place was completely empty.
Next, they moved on to the large transport vehicles: ten-meter trucks, fifteen-meter ones, and even a thirty-ton crane.
Miles was more than willing to take it all.
"Miles, this is amazing! Come quick..."
Ryan's excited shout crackled through the walkie-talkie.
Miles turned to look and saw Ryan standing on a raised platform some distance away.
"Coming!" Miles replied, equally thrilled.
Behind Ryan, a large sign loomed, displaying the words "American Petrochemical."
Now, that was truly something of value!
Without wasting a moment, Miles rushed to the location, and the two spent over half an hour breaking through the ice and snow blocking the entrance to the gas station.
But once they cleared it all, Miles was stumped.
"How do we store this?"
The gas pumps were embedded in the ground, connected to fuel stations above. While he could store independent objects, these fixtures were attached to the earth, making them impossible to store.
"Forget about the pumps," Ryan said, as though suddenly struck by inspiration. "What about the barrels of spare gasoline inside?"
That was a revelation. The two hurried into the gas station's office building, where nearly a thousand barrels of gasoline were stored.
This was only possible at a 4S dealership. A small, local gas station would never have had such reserves.
The amount wasn't huge, but it was more than enough to satisfy Miles.
These barrels of gasoline would allow him to travel the entire city of Chicago in his snowmobile.
As the day grew darker, the two finally turned back, satisfied with their haul.
Upon returning to the compound, Miles noticed Nathan approaching with a few of his men, dragging along a few ordinary zombies behind them.
"Miles, sir," Nathan greeted him with a smile.
Miles nodded and asked, "Where did you find these?"
At this point, most of the zombies in Cloud City had already been captured, with only a few stragglers remaining. Even Anthony hadn't been working in recent days.
Originally, he had planned to infect the remaining residents, but Isaac had sternly stopped him.
Anthony knew Isaac was now aligned with Miles, so he dared not argue, and instead, took his men farther out to search.
But unlike Miles, Anthony didn't have a snowmobile or protective gear. In such frigid weather, even stepping outside was a gamble with his life.
Nathan chuckled. "My brothers went out to the North Bay area and found them there."
"The North Bay?" Ryan, who had lived there before, was taken aback. "That's at least twenty kilometers away! Weren't you worried about freezing to death?"
"Just wore more layers," Nathan shrugged with a smile. "Miles has been kind enough to provide us with food every day, so we're just trying to repay you in kind."
This, truly, was the difference between people.
Some would be forever grateful for a meal, while others felt exploited, even considering it a form of enslavement.
It was clear—perspective shaped reality.
Miles, feeling a surge of emotion, smiled warmly. "Don't worry. Your efforts won't go unnoticed."
With that, he reached into his space, pulling out several boxes of instant noodles and two crates of liquor.
When Nathan and his men saw the liquor, their eyes lit up.
In this bitterly cold weather, warmth was a luxury. Once the current supplies ran out, liquor became the ultimate tool for survival—a sip could make everything feel much more bearable.
"Thank you, Miles, sir!"
"Thanks so much, Miles, sir!"
The group thanked him profusely before cheerfully gathering their goods and heading off.
As for the zombies, Miles barely spared them a glance. Whether they were alive or dead, he didn't care. With his current power, those ordinary zombies held little value.
The energy they possessed wasn't even enough to move a single desk.
But the actions of Nathan and his men pleased him. No matter how small the reward, they had done their utmost and put in their best efforts.
"Miles, boss!"
Just as Miles arrived back at the villa, he heard someone calling from outside.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking out the window to see Anthony and his men standing outside.
"It's bad! Someone's come knocking!"
Anthony's face was pale with worry. "We don't know where they came from, but there's a whole group of them—four or five hundred people, marching right up to the door!"
Miles was momentarily stunned.
At a time like this, for anyone to muster a group of four hundred to act together... Could it be the authorities had come knocking?