Chapter 9: Iron Ore

Looking at the chat messages, Chen Zhuo’s brows knitted tightly as he began checking his shelter for any signs of leaks.

No rain seeped through the door cracks. He exhaled in relief.

He was infinitely grateful he’d built the shelter directly into the mountain.

A small cabin nestled between three hills meant he only had to defend against acid rain from one side.

In truth, though his shelter sat at the base of the hill, it wasn’t in a low-lying area. There was a gentle slope leading down from the entrance—acid rain couldn’t linger long before sliding off. Any remaining runoff was funneled away by the simple drainage ditch he’d constructed.

“Smart move switching to that drainage blueprint,” he thought, quietly proud of his foresight. The ditch was proving invaluable now.

The intensity of the acid rain had caught many off guard—but not him. Thanks to his careful preparations, his shelter remained untouched.

Once assured the storm posed no threat, Chen Zhuo lay back on his cotton blanket, arms folded under his head, and drifted into deep sleep…

Rain tapped softly against the ground—gentle, rhythmic, growing louder.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, he slowly surfaced as the sound intensified.

In the dark, he blinked open his eyes. His mind peeled away from dreams and reconnected with reality.

7:00 a.m., December 5th.

Chen Zhuo dragged himself out of bed, groggy and slow.

No surprise there—the apocalypse lived up to its name. The acid rain had been pouring all night, showing no sign of stopping.

Not only was it impossible to go outside, but the temperature had dropped sharply overnight.

Last night, he’d used his only wool coat as a mattress. Now, waking up, he felt a chill creeping through his bones.

Quickly, he lit a fire, pulled on his coat, and sat close to the flames, warming his hands.

As the fire grew stronger, warmth spread through the shelter. A comforting heat began to melt the morning cold.

He took some pork, placed it in a stone bowl, added a splash of mountain spring water, and started simmering it—planning to make a hot pork soup to warm himself up.

Flickering firelight danced across his face, casting sharp shadows that highlighted the determination in his eyes.

He kept stirring the fire, adjusting the logs to keep the flame steady, while watching the meat cook.

After a while, he opened the chat again.

Other survivors were sharing updates—comparing damage, discussing survival tactics, debating how to cope with the relentless acid rain.

From the chatter, Chen Zhuo gathered a clear picture: stone shelters held strong. Wooden cabins, however, were already showing signs of corrosion after a full night of beating.

Some shelters in lower areas had their foundations soaked in acid rain. After just one night, the rot was severe.

Now, wood-and-stone traders were scrambling. The marketplace flooded with rare items—logs, stones, tools—everything suddenly valuable.

“Damn, look at all this stuff,” Chen Zhuo muttered, scanning the new listings.

These survivors were sharper than he’d given them credit for. Treasure they’d hoarded for months now spilled out like confetti during an emergency.

He wanted to grab every single item—except he’d already spent most of his stone supply in yesterday’s seed trade.

But luck was on his side. His shelter was carved into solid rock. No need to venture out—he could mine stone right where he stood.

He had a hunch: over the next seven days, he’d pull ahead of everyone else by a mile.

He lifted the steaming pork soup, added two pinches of salt, stirred gently until the crystals dissolved.

With a wooden spoon, he blew on the hot broth, then gulped it down—meat and all—in three quick swallows.

*+3 Happiness Points*

He summoned the Territory Foundation, then—without hesitation—pulled the inner wall closest to the mountain straight into his backpack.

The black rock of the mountain yawned open before him. Chen Zhuo froze.

Then, something caught his eye—a faint glimmer.

He stepped closer. Nestled in a crack of the stone was a cluster of dark, glossy ore. Under the firelight, it shimmered with a metallic sheen, standing out starkly against the dull sandstone.

He crouched, brushed away the dust with his fingers, revealing clearer contours—iron ore.

Rough texture, jagged edges—hard, dense, unmistakable.

His heart pounded.

In this world, iron ore was gold. It could forge tools, weapons, even reinforce shelters.

To be sure, he activated the system, pointing it at the anomaly.

**Iron Ore: Blue Rarity – Mining yields 3 Iron Blocks. Essential for crafting weapons and tools.**

Confirmed.

He suppressed the urge to cheer.

From his pack, he pulled out his iron pickaxe and began striking the ore.

Each blow cracked the rock, sent tremors through the stone. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his swings didn’t waver.

After minutes of relentless effort, three iron blocks clinked into his inventory.

“There’s more in there!”

He redoubled his pace, first clearing away ordinary rocks around the site—

Suddenly, the discovery electrified him. Like a shot of adrenaline, he worked nonstop all day, hollowing out a cavity nearly as large as his stone house.

***

By evening, the torrential downpour had eased into a steady drizzle.

Exhausted, Chen Zhuo collapsed onto his bed—body spent, soul buzzing with joy.

Beyond the 188 stones he’d mined, today’s real prize? Twenty iron blocks.

Without hesitation, he spent 80 stones to upgrade his shelter to a **Precision Stone House**.

**Precision Stone House: Happiness Value +60**

As for beds, tables, chairs—no upgrades.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, then facepalmed.

What a mess.

He’d gotten so dazzled by happiness points that he’d blindly upgraded everything—beds, stools, tables—all at once.

Wasted stone. Useless upgrades. And the results? Not even more comfortable.

Turns out, the upgrades came from the Territory Foundation—just boosted durability and strength. No comfort options. No softness. No luxury.

He remembered the system’s other function—wasn’t happiness point supposed to directly upgrade items?

“System,” he said, “upgrade my bed.”

**Beep. Item detected: Bed.**

**Upgrade options available: Spring Bed, Palm Mat Bed, Latex Bed, Polyester Bed, Bamboo Bed, Wooden Plank Bed, Water Bed, Kids’ Bed, Infant Bed.**

Choose your path.

Chen Zhuo stared at the list. Then he buried his face in his hands.

*“I’m such an idiot.”*

“Fine. Latex bed.”

**Beep. Host lacks required materials. Upgrade via 30 Happiness Points? Confirm?**

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped. “Cancel that.”

“This is insane. Why spend happiness points when I can just gather the materials myself?”

“Right now, stone is king. I’ll dig more—sell it for what I need.”

“If I don’t, once everyone else finds iron and makes picks, stone will be worthless.”

He grinned.

Time to get rich—before the market crashed.