Chapter 33: The Chill Descends

**Title: The First Frost**

Even among creatures of the same tier, physical prowess varied wildly. If a hyena had charged at Chen Zhuo, he wouldn’t have needed to take a single step back.

At this moment, Chen Zhuo’s arms were coiled with muscle, braced against the horns of the wild bull.
When the beast finally faltered in its charge, Chen Zhuo swung his right fist straight into its snout.

*“Moo!”*

The bull howled in pain, its four hooves scrambling backward. Its left eye was already a bloody mess—crushed by one punch.

Seeing that, Chen Zhuo pulled out his iron sword, enchanted by the wolf spirit’s claws, and slashed across the bull’s broad shoulder.

*Swish!*

Just a flick of the wrist, and a gash nearly as long as the blade itself split open the flesh.

Superficial? Yes. But the blood pouring out defied logic—thick, dark, and gushing like the animal had been pierced clean through.

Blood streamed down from its shoulder, cascaded over its front legs, pooling on the ground until it formed a spreading crimson stain.

All the while, Chen Zhuo didn’t flinch. He dodged every swing, sidestepped each lunge like he was dancing through fire.

Four or five minutes passed. The bull’s attacks grew slower, weaker. Its breath came in ragged gasps.

Finally, it collapsed before him—its body drained dry by a wound barely more than skin-deep.

**Dropped:**
- Vitality Fruit (Blue) ×1
- Iron (Blue) ×6
- Plastic (Blue) ×6
- Diesel (Blue) ×1
- Crimson Shard ×1

“Damn… that wolf spirit buff is *insane*. If I’d hit a human with that, they wouldn’t last five seconds.”

He popped the vitality fruit into his mouth first—cool, sweet, and instantly energizing—then turned toward his next hunting spot.

……

That evening, inside the shelter, Chen Zhuo sorted through his afternoon haul.

“Mostly crafting materials. Only two things stand out: a barrel of diesel and one Crimson Shard.”

“Food’s not an issue. That bull alone weighed over 800 pounds.”

Sure, it seemed easy now—but that was all thanks to the system’s biological detection feature.
Back in the old days, finding *one* prey in a day was considered lucky.

No wonder trading for food was so common.
And forget about other survivors trying to fight something like a Crimson-tier beast—most would be dead before they even got close.

The gap between creatures of the same rank? Even wider than he’d imagined.

Take today’s kill—the wild bull. With his 27-point strength, it could still knock him back.
But the rabbit? Same blue-grade rarity, bigger than average, fast as hell—but utterly harmless. No real threat beyond speed.

After a quiet dinner, Chen Zhuo lay in bed, waiting for the storm to come.

He opened the chat channel.

Last time, no one dared underestimate the apocalypse. Now, everyone was terrified.

The feed was flooded with predictions and panic:

> “Silver Fox Shelter recruiting! Join us—stay warm in the freezing dark!”

> “Bro, really? Right now? You want to bring corpses into your shelter?”

> “Mind your own business. Real survivors will find a way in. As for you—just wait. The storm will finish you off.”

> “I think this one’s gonna kill a lot of people.”

> “You’re kidding, right? Last acid rain wasn’t exactly gentle either.”

> “Look—only 6 billion survivors left now.”

> “Since arriving here, I haven’t slept a full night. Every second’s a nightmare. I just wanna go home.”

> “Two months of apocalypse? How do we survive if we can’t leave?”

> “This one’s longer, sure—but movement’s still possible. Don’t stress about supplies, brothers.”

> “Wait—*who* told you that? Did the Survival Platform tell you directly?”

> “Just giving you a heads-up. Believe it or not, up to you.”

Chen Zhuo often lurked in the chat. He’d seen this ID before—Lu Congnan.

The guy posted similar warnings multiple times. Not always accurate, but never random. There was *something* behind it.

Now, seeing Lu get roasted by trolls, Chen Zhuo sent a friend request.

【Friend request accepted】
【Lu Congnan: Hey, what’s up? You need something?】

【Chen Zhuo: Nothing much. Just been watching you for a while. Curious—where do you even get your info?】

【Chen Zhuo: Don’t tell me it’s the Survival Platform itself.】

【Lu Congnan: Haha, *please*. I’m actually a reclusive Taoist master. All these predictions? I calculated them using Plum Blossom Divination and Qimen Dunjia!】

*Hmph.* Chen Zhuo saw right through it. The guy was bluffing. Still, he played along.

【Chen Zhuo: Really, Master? Amazing!】

【Lu Congnan: Naturally. I understand the laws of the universe. Surviving a little apocalypse? Child’s play.】

【Chen Zhuo: Then, Master—can you tell me when I’ll finally get rid of my single status?】

Knowing full well the man was faking it, Chen Zhuo threw in a playful challenge.

【Lu Congnan: Uh… well… fortune-telling takes time. Let me calculate it properly. I’ll message you when I’ve got the answer.】

【Chen Zhuo: Cool. I’ll be waiting, Master.】

Of course he didn’t believe a word. No real diviner would give a prediction without a birth chart. This was pure nonsense.

Still, the fact remained: Lu Congnan wasn’t making it up. He had access to *real* intel. And someone—or some group—was feeding him data.

But Chen Zhuo wasn’t going to push. No point chasing shadows. Losing a few supplies? Fine. The system had his back.

……

Outside, the night was pitch black. Wind screamed through the trees, howling like lost souls.

*11:58*
*11:59*
*12:00*

*Time’s up.*

As Chen Zhuo whispered in his mind, the wind stopped abruptly—like a switch had been flipped.

A familiar voice rang in his left wrist—his Survival Platform.

【Second Apocalypse: Extreme Cold has begun.】
【Wasteland Survival enters Phase Two.】
【From now on, you can see your exact coordinates. Others cannot.】
【Survival Chest drops adjusted—more diverse resources will appear over time.】
【Enjoy your survival journey.】

“Same old cryptic tone,” Chen Zhuo muttered.

He jumped off the bed, flung open the shelter door—and stepped into a world transformed.

One second, it was howling wind. The next, snow fell in thick, silent sheets.

He took a deep breath. Exhaled. A cloud of white mist curled into the air, obscuring his vision. For a moment, he stood frozen—staring blankly into the storm.

He raised a hand, catching a snowflake. It melted instantly on his palm.

Then came the cold—sharp, biting, seeping into his bones.

He rushed back inside, lit a fresh fire. Two flames roared together, warming the shelter.

December 19
Temperature: -20°C

“The cold has arrived,” Chen Zhuo said aloud.

……