Zhu Jiu glanced over at Fatty and saw him shirtless, proudly showing off his pale rolls of fat.
The bruised, dark infection marks that had once marred Fatty's back had vanished entirely, as if they had never been there.
"This serum works wonders," Zhu Jiu remarked, raising an eyebrow before smirking. "Put your shirt back on. Nobody wants to see that."
Beside him, Zhang Xinyu quipped, "Fatty, don't thank the heavens. Thank Brother Jiu, Sister Yan, and your ample reserves of body fat!"
It wasn't far from the truth. Without Ruan Qingyan's expertise and the suppressive drugs she had provided, Fatty wouldn't have lasted long. And without Zhu Jiu taking down Zhao Feng and acquiring the anti-infection serum, Fatty's recovery would have been impossible.
Zhang Xinyu's jab elicited howls of protest from Fatty, who waved his arms dramatically, setting off laughter among the group.
Zhu Jiu's stern expression softened as he watched them joke around.
Moments earlier, the data he'd read on Zhao Feng's phone had left him shaken. According to certain analysts, the global population of seven billion had already plummeted to less than two billion.
And if current trends continued, over a billion more would perish within the next week.
This meant that in just one week, the Earth might hold only a few hundred million people.
One in ten would survive.
The numbers painted a harrowing picture.
A classroom of 50 students, reduced to just 5 after a week. A bustling town of hundreds of thousands dwindled to mere thousands.
This wasn't just a catastrophe—it was an extinction-level event.
But what had angered Zhu Jiu most wasn't the scale of the disaster.
As he scanned through the information on Zhao Feng's phone, he discovered that while billions were dying, those in power were preoccupied with dividing territory, hoarding resources, and treating survivors like commodities to be traded.
"Disgusting," Zhu Jiu muttered coldly.
He memorized the names of every prominent family, church, faction, and warlord he came across.
One day, he would make them pay.
Zhu Jiu didn't begrudge people for prioritizing their own survival—he himself wouldn't risk his life to save others recklessly.
But to see people treated as mere assets, bartered away without regard for their lives, was beyond what Zhu Jiu could tolerate.
Despite his grim thoughts, the sight of his companions—laughing, teasing, and supporting each other—helped dispel some of his bitterness.
For them, Zhu Jiu resolved, he would carve out a sanctuary. A place where they could live in safety, with full stomachs and warm clothes.
Zhang Xinyu suddenly shouted, "Hey, look outside! It's snowing!"
Zhu Jiu turned toward the window, his eyes narrowing as he saw heavy snowflakes blanketing the ground.
"This can't be right," he muttered.
It was June in Nancheng, a time of sweltering heat with temperatures exceeding 30 degrees Celsius. Snow was impossible.
Having lived in Nancheng all his life, Zhu Jiu had never seen snow—not even in the depths of winter.
The other students, however, were ecstatic. Many of them had never seen snow before, and their excitement momentarily overpowered the despair of the apocalypse.
Their eyes sparkled with childlike wonder, and some of them even seemed tempted to run outside and play.
But Zhu Jiu's expression darkened.
A voice rang out in his mind.
[The second wave of calamity has arrived. Prepare yourself to survive.]
"Damn it!" Zhu Jiu bellowed, startling everyone into silence.
"Listen up! Assemble into squads and follow my lead!"
He barked out orders:
"Team One, led by Fatty: Scour the area for food, gasoline, and other flammable materials. Prioritize anything that can burn.""Team Two, led by Mr. Wang: Collect cold-weather clothing, blankets, lighters, matches—anything that can help keep us warm.""Team Three, led by Zhang Xinyu: Fortify the meeting room upstairs. Insulate the doors and windows to trap heat. Move the desks up there to serve as beds.""Team Four, led by me: Head to the school's back hill and gather firewood for fuel."
"All teams, return before sundown!" Zhu Jiu's gaze swept across their faces, lingering on their youthful features.
Despite their age, there was no fear or hesitation in their eyes—only determination. Even Fatty and Zhang Xinyu set aside their usual banter, their expressions serious.
Zhu Jiu sighed softly. "Stay safe, all of you."
"Now, move!"
He led the charge, with the other teams quickly following suit, each heading out to fulfill their tasks.
As Zhu Jiu raced toward the back hill, the rapidly plummeting temperature sent a chill through his body. His expression grew grim as realization dawned.
The second wave of calamity wasn't just a blizzard.
It was an Ice Age.
The term sprang unbidden to his mind—a cataclysm Earth had experienced many times in its ancient history. Each Ice Age had brought mass extinction, wiping out most species and sparing only the most resilient.
Zhu Jiu didn't know how severe this one would be, but judging by the snowfall in Nancheng—a city near the equator—the temperature drop was likely catastrophic elsewhere.
The death toll wouldn't stop at a few billion.
When it was over, humanity might not even have a billion survivors.
Perhaps not even a hundred million.