The grey-green leaves were scorched, and even the asphalt on the road was beginning to warp.

Under the blazing sun, Ye Shu stepped out for just a few minutes to take out the trash, and already she was panting for breath—the air she drew into her lungs was suffocatingly hot.

It was hard to imagine what would happen to someone who had to stand outside for several hours.

The garbage dump was being broiled under the relentless sun, its stench wafting across the distance. When Ye Shu looked up, she saw nothing but a sea of gold. The blue sky from just a few days ago now seemed singed, the world before her eyes reduced to a hazy yellow.

She fished out her phone. It read 16:34.

It was already late afternoon—and yet, the heat still pressed down relentlessly. In less than five minutes, she was drenched in sticky sweat.

When she returned to her floor, an old woman was standing there, making Ye Shu momentarily wonder if she'd gone to the wrong place.

The old lady wore a kindly expression, holding out a bowl of mung bean soup as she came forward. "Little girl, I live right under you. I doubt you youngsters keep much food at home—here, I’ve got some mung bean soup. If you don’t mind…"

Ye Shu glanced at the old woman. Beneath her friendly exterior was a sharp cleverness, and in her hands, the mung bean soup—right now, mung beans were a scarce commodity, given the frenzy sweeping through the residents of Jade Lake City.

She had plenty of food at home—her fridge stuffed with cold sweet soups for the heat—and the original ‘Ye Shu’ had lived in this old complex for two years without ever seeing this woman before. Someone showing up out of nowhere bearing gifts? Clearly, kindness without cause is never truly selfless.

Ye Shu refused her offer without hesitation.

"Child, why are you being so polite with your elders? To tell you the truth, I live alone, it’s lonely, so I wanted someone to keep me company. It’s so hot out, and my old man couldn’t get an air conditioner… I was just thinking—it's such a waste for a girl like you to live in such a big house alone, so I…"

Ye Shu snorted inwardly. The woman’s story didn’t even make sense—the old lady claimed she lived alone, then suddenly there's a husband who couldn't buy an air conditioner? Standing here in the hallway with a bowl of soup, waiting for her… It was obvious she thought Ye Shu, a lone young woman, would be easy prey.

If this was Ye Shu from the game, thin-skinned and timid, she might have caved under this emotional blackmail. But who was she now? Not someone to be pushed around so easily.

"You’re overthinking it, ma’am. I just prefer living alone. Maybe offer your kindness to someone else," Ye Shu said, stepping past the woman and slamming the door shut behind her with a bang.

She didn’t see the old woman’s face twist into a mask of fury, the kindly smile vanishing in an instant. Her features darkened, and she planted her hands on her hips, hurling insults at Ye Shu’s door: "I was being nice, but you don’t know a good thing when you see it! You little wretch—must be that you’ve got a mother but no one to raise you properly! Don’t even understand how to respect your elders—no wonder no man will want you for the rest of your life!"

Listening to the curses outside, Ye Shu felt nothing, if anything, she was amused.

All because she’d refused to let an old stranger move in with her? The old hag dropped her friendly façade in a heartbeat.

Helping others is a favor—not an obligation. Saying no is her right.

Ye Shu didn’t feel she was in the wrong at all.

Still, the old woman’s curses were ugly, and Ye Shu found it hard to stop her hands from trembling with suppressed rage.

"According to reports, the freshwater lake in Jade Lake City is shrinking at an alarming rate, and is expected to run dry within a month. This ancient lake, hailed as a living fossil, may soon become dry land," the news anchor announced from the television.

"Today, the city saw a record-high temperature of 47 degrees Celsius. Residents are advised to stay indoors. Please take precautions, especially with the elderly and children…"

"Multiple incidents of cars spontaneously combusting have occurred downtown…"

"A sudden forest fire in the southwest region of the Dragon Country—firefighters are on the scene…"

Ye Shu’s bedroom TV played on, the anchor’s grave voice over footage of Jade Lake, water levels scraping muddy banks, flashes of fish and shrimp leaping in the muck. Cars parked along the street, their glass shattering, and in just a few heartbeats, bursting into flames—metal burned black. A sea of fire consumed the forests, snapping branches and the anguished shrieks of animals filling the air—a vision of hell on earth.

Ye Shu’s face grew grim. She hadn't expected such devastation to strike so early in the game. Was this really the ‘low-difficulty’ scenario she’d assumed?

Distracted, she forced down a few mouthfuls of food and lay down to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Ye Shu was jolted awake by the heat.

Pitch black all around. The AC was silent—power was out.

Her bamboo mat was soaked with sweat, and her skin felt clammy and vile. She got up, intent on a cold shower to cool off.

But as she twisted the faucet, not a single drop came out.

Her building’s group chat was abuzz with frantic messages from the residents.

[1a101: What are the property management people even doing? Power’s one thing, but now there’s no water either!] [2a303: Are they just bullying us old folks now? We’ve paid so much in fees—if my grandson gets sick from this heat, I’m lodging a complaint!] [6a202: Aunt Chen, property says the electric lines will be fixed within two hours. But Jade Lake City’s reservoirs are nearly dry—water might not come for a while… Lucky for me, my son stocked up a few days ago—enough water to last half a month. Let me show you.] [Property staff Xiao Lin: The power lines are burned—emergency repairs are underway. As for water, we’ve requested a fire truck to supply the community. Please be patient!] 6a202 was practically bragging, posting pictures of their bedroom lined wall-to-wall with crates of bottled water.

Ye Shu glanced at the photos, her brows knotting. Water had become a precious commodity; for the sixth floor residents to flaunt such supplies now—if things got worse and water deliveries didn’t resume, this building was bound for trouble.

Ye Shu felt grateful for her own foresight two days ago, stocking up on water—a stash enough for one person’s daily needs.

After a cold towel bath, she spread a mat on the floor, set up a small fan, and tried to cool herself off. But sweat poured off her constantly, soaking her clothes again in no time, as if she’d been dunked in water—utterly miserable.

Two agonizing hours passed, and the power still hadn’t returned.

The apartment was pitch-dark, her own breathing loud in her ears, each inhalation hot as an oven.

Even at midnight, the heat didn’t relent—instead, it seemed to intensify.

She began to suspect the temperature was much higher than the official reports; even with her enhanced constitution, she was finding the heat nearly unbearable, gulping down water bottle after bottle, depleting her stash at a worrying rate.

Checking her phone, she saw: 50 degrees Celsius.

50°C. At that temperature, human survival was barely possible. In fact, at this heat, most viruses lasted less than half an hour before dying off.

Ye Shu wrung out a towel, wiping sweat from her brow. She downed a bottle of herbal cooling water, grabbed some frozen meat from the fridge to hug, her foggy mind slowly clarifying, revising her inventory—which now absolutely needed a generator and fuel.

From downstairs, panicked cries echoed upwards, footsteps clattering through the hallways, sirens warbling nearby, now closer, now farther away.

Ye Shu peered out the window. Medical personnel hefted a stretcher, a white sheet draped over it—a corpse, and not the only one, by the look of things.