Chapter 12: The Destination Arrived, but Where Is the Trunk?

Second day of survival.

Lin Mu stretched lazily, the blinding sunlight streaming into his eyes, making him quite uncomfortable.

“If only there were curtains. I didn’t even want to get up, but the sunlight forced me awake.”

He checked the temperature first thing.

Outside: minus fifteen degrees Celsius.
Inside: plus twenty-four degrees Celsius.

Wait a minute!

Something was off about these numbers. It was already past eight in the morning, the sun had risen, so logically the temperature should be higher. Maybe not minus four or five, but at least somewhere around minus ten, right?

Could it be that the closer it got to the disaster, the lower the temperature dropped? That actually seemed plausible.

Forget it, he was too lazy to ponder. Better tidy up first.

He opened the fresh water collector, poured a bit of water into a cup, swished it around his mouth, and spat it out the window. Then he took a little more water to wash his face, using up nearly half of the collected supply in one go.

He pulled out a piece of bread to quickly silence his hunger pangs, then tossed some sticks into the stove.

“Phew, all done.”

The entire process took less than fifteen minutes. Right now, speed was money.

Once done, he checked the trade information. Everything he had put up for sale yesterday had been sold. In his backpack, he now had a bunch of useless junk, which Lin Mu promptly tossed into the trade interface—let them be recycled by someone who could use them.

He glanced at his water collection device—ten milliliters of water for one piece of trash. He immediately listed three three-hundred-milliliter batches.

Then he opened the regional chat.

His eyes were drawn immediately to the number at the top—95,632!

Damn! Nearly two thousand people had died overnight?

That was terrifying.

From yesterday to now, 4,400 people had died. At this rate, wasn’t it likely that thirty thousand would perish in seven days?

Seeing this number made Lin Mu shiver all over.

In this world, human life seemed reduced to a mere statistic, liable to disappear at any moment.

In the few minutes he spent thinking, another five people had died.

He looked at the chat box.

“My backpack’s full, I can’t fit anything else.”
“How’s that possible? I’ve got forty slots and I still haven’t filled them.”
“Huh, why do I only have fifteen slots?”
“Ha, I’ve got a hundred and fifty, but I’m out of gas in my truck. Anyone got some fuel? If you give me some, I’ll repay you.”
“By the way, do trucks in this world run on gasoline?”
“...”

The chat box was as lively as ever, as though no one noticed the deaths.
Or perhaps, everyone was more concerned with their own survival.

Lin Mu started the vehicle and slowly drove away.

Once the speed reached sixty, Lin Mu steered with one hand and opened the workbench with the other.

First order of business: upgrade the small water collector to a permanent version.

The two blueprints in his backpack disappeared, replaced by a permanent model—perfect.

But when he saw the required materials, Lin Mu was embarrassed—he was short two pieces of plastic.

No big deal, though. In half an hour, he’d be able to gather a new batch of supplies anyway.

He checked the distance—245 kilometers, and still one hour left before he reached the resource box location.

An hour couldn’t be wasted.

Lin Mu closed the workbench and opened the modification skill, placing the Mustard Stone inside.

He’d wanted to use this yesterday, but hadn’t had the chance. As a native of China, the word “mustard” was all too familiar.

Yet, the stone showed no response to the skill.

Fine, let’s try another one.

Three seconds later, two options appeared.

[Option 1]: Double the length of the space behind the cab.
[Option 2]: Double the width of the space behind the cab.

Lin Mu thought for a moment and chose to extend the length—this would create a larger space.

Once selected, the vehicle vibrated slightly, and the rear area visibly expanded.

Lin Mu quickly checked the rearview mirror—the cab hadn’t gotten longer!

Even with yesterday’s core upgrade, the vehicle’s length hadn’t changed.

Impressive—this was some high-tech stuff.

Now, the back of the vehicle had become a space approximately three meters by three and a half—about the size of a small bedroom.

At this rate, the vehicle might one day become as large as a house.

Lin Mu rubbed his chin. “Don’t tell me I’ll end up with a bathroom in here.”

At the mention of a bathroom, his stomach gave a painful twinge.

“Damn! Spoke too soon!”

He brought the car to a stop and opened the door.

Whoosh!

A blast of cold wind swept in, making him shiver and nearly lose control.

Lin Mu glanced at the expanded space in the back, gritted his teeth, and crawled through.

“Mm! Ha~~~~”

Five minutes later.

Pinching his nose, Lin Mu looked conflicted.

A black hole appeared, and the yellow, semi-solid mixture in the bag vanished before his eyes.

He let go, and a powerful stench assaulted his senses.

“Damn, I never realized how awful a bathroom could smell!”

He scrambled back to the driver’s seat, opened the window, and started the engine.

As he drove, the smell finally began to dissipate.

Lin Mu breathed a sigh of relief—he hadn’t dared take a deep breath during those last three minutes.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the reason so many died last night was because they’d been attacked while relieving themselves outside.

Another reason he hadn’t wanted to get out of the car just now was because he’d seen a white figure flash across the snow nearby.

That was the real reason he’d stayed in the vehicle.

“So it’s not just the resource boxes that are dangerous—the outside world is, too.”

After the bathroom incident, Lin Mu realized that paper was a crucial resource.

Using sticks just now had been an agonizing experience.

He opened the workbench and searched for “paper.”

Several types popped up—toilet paper, tissues, plain paper...

He even spotted sanitary pads.

No wonder he hadn’t found any paper after opening so many boxes yesterday—they were all here.

He put in a template and received two rolls of toilet paper; not a bad deal.

He also installed the bed. With the extra space, the bed was now two meters long, though much thinner.

Lin Mu didn’t mind—he was just glad to have somewhere to sleep.

…

Four hundred kilometers.

But...

Where were the boxes?

Lin Mu slowed down, scanning his surroundings.

Nothing in the road, nothing in the snowy fields—he couldn’t spot a single box.

Could the interval on the second day be two kilometers? But at least the first box should have appeared by now.

Half an hour later, with the distance at 420 kilometers, Lin Mu still hadn’t seen a single box.

This didn’t make sense.

No boxes on the second day?

He asked the system panel, but the response was only that he would encounter one soon.

But how soon was “soon”?

It was failing him at this crucial moment.

He’d asked the system plenty of questions yesterday; most were answered, but for some, there was only silence.

Just like now.

At 450 kilometers, still no boxes.

Lin Mu shook his head helplessly. He was certain there were none here, so he could only speed up and keep moving.

He opened the regional chat, wanting to see if he was the only one not finding boxes, or if no one had.