Chapter 34: Back to the Ruins

“System, is there enough oxygen in the shelter for me to light two campfires?”

【Ping. The shelter currently covers 140 square meters. Oxygen levels are sufficient for you to maintain small campfires for approximately 3 to 4 days.】

【However, ventilation is extremely poor. Once oxygen is consumed, it’s nearly impossible to replenish it effectively. Suggestion: build a proper ventilation system as soon as possible.】

No big deal—Peach didn’t pay much attention to the system’s caution. Right now, there were too many urgent things calling for happiness points. Ventilation could wait.

This disaster was far milder than the last one—definitely not bad enough to trap them inside like before. At -20°C, work would be slowed down, but that kind of cold was nothing unusual back in northern China in his previous life.

Still, it was only day one. Chen Zhuo wasn’t fooled into thinking this hellhole would show mercy to outsiders. Tomorrow might just drop to -60°C without warning.

After double-checking everything else remained unchanged, he scrolled through the chat channel again. Panic and complaints still flooded the screen. With a sigh, he pulled his spring-down quilt tighter around himself and drifted off into deep sleep.

……

Morning came. Chen Zhuo stretched lazily from his cozy bed, arms reaching high above his head.

Last night, the cold had gotten so unbearable he’d literally sprinted into his latex mattress like it was a sanctuary. Now, waking up, he found his blanket puffed up so dramatically he thought something was wrong—had the gene serum mutated his heirloom? Had he accidentally turned himself into a giant fluffy ball?

He peeked under the quilt—and saw Taimei, the goose, curled up inside.

Relief washed over him.

Gently stroking Taimei’s vibrant feathers, he sighed with quiet envy.

“I really wish I had your life. No chores, no stress—just fed, fluffed up, and pampered.”

“Gobble.” Taimei blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Down on the floor, Chen Zhuo opened the system interface. His happiness point balance had already climbed to 89.

Ever since he manually reinforced the “mine shaft” structure, the system begrudgingly recognized it as an official shelter and granted a base 100 happiness points. Now, happiness converted into daily happiness points at a steady rate of 37 per day. Add in the 15 points from three meals, and he was raking in 52 happiness points every single day.

With this momentum, improving the shelter would only get faster.

……

Morning was perfect for another run at the ruin.

The site only lasted one month. If he hadn’t found it yet, fine—but now that he had, he wasn’t about to waste such a rare opportunity.

Wolflings were tricky, yes—but his body had nearly doubled in strength since last time. Next encounter? No more running scared.

Dressed in wolfhide inner armor, gripping his silver-white iron sword, Chen Zhuo set out.

His refined-grade iron blade was starting to feel outdated, but thanks to its bleeding enchantment, it still held up—good enough to keep using for now.

Thirty minutes later, covered in snow dust and wind-chilled, Chen Zhuo arrived at the ancient ruin.

Where once green grass swayed under a gentle breeze, now every corner of the wasteland was buried beneath endless white.

The Wolfling guards he’d slain before were replaced by fresh ones—new recruits, eager to defend their post.

He slid down the slope, no hesitation, no words. Clutching his sword, he charged straight toward the two beasts.

Seeing him approach, both Wolflings lunged without delay, four claws slashing wildly across his torso.

But Chen Zhuo had fought these creatures before. Calm as stone, he raised his sword and met the attack head-on.

At the moment the blade struck claw, a force so immense surged back that the Wolflings’ limbs shattered instantly—powdered into dust.

*Thwip!*

The sound of steel cleaving through flesh echoed.

*Howl!*

Seizing the opening, Chen Zhuo closed in. A fist roared through the air, slamming into the creature’s jaw with a sickening *crack*.

Then—*boom*. The Wolfling’s skull exploded, spraying yellow and white matter across the snow.

The second Wolfling, sensing weakness from behind, leapt forward—mouth wide open, aiming for his neck.

But Chen Zhuo had been watching it all along.

Reacting on instinct, he remembered a move from old kung fu movies. Left foot planted, right leg lifted, body spinning sharply—then a brutal side kick sent the attacker flying.

*Boom!*

A thunderous impact rang out. The ambush predator was launched backward, crashing into the snowbank—dead beyond revival.

“Phew~”

Chen Zhuo exhaled, satisfied. His reflexes had never been sharper. Every movement felt effortless, controlled, precise.

Even the surprise kick—he hadn’t expected to pull it off so smoothly.

He brushed off the dirt clinging to his coat and stepped forward toward the ruin.

The entrance loomed tall and solemn, carved from ancient stone blocks etched with weathered symbols and centuries of history. On either side stood twin wolf-head statues, faces stern and watchful—guardians of forgotten secrets.

Pushing the heavy door open, a soft creak echoed through the hollow chamber. The passage ahead plunged into darkness, lit only faintly by the weak sunlight filtering in from outside.

Light danced across the aged stone walls, casting shifting shadows. An ancient scent filled the air—damp earth, mold, and the faint trace of long-dead stories. Chen Zhuo wrinkled his nose, then quickly adjusted.

As he moved deeper, the ruins opened up into a vast, cathedral-like space. Four towering stone pillars rose from each corner, stretching toward the ceiling.

And there, carved into the vaulted dome above, was a monstrous wolf—massive, fierce, eyes locked onto him with predatory focus.

Ahead, a ritual platform emerged, crowned by an empty throne, silent and waiting.

Chen Zhuo took a step forward—when suddenly, a stone door beside him burst open.

Ten Wolflings poured out in perfect formation, like soldiers in a coordinated assault. They’d sensed an intruder. All converged on him at once.

Chen Zhuo activated the system. Checked their stats.

All were Rare-tier.

He snorted.

At this point, anything below Refined-grade was just trash—no matter how smart they seemed. Even clever Wolflings were beneath him now.

Before they even reached him, he charged into the swarm.

Sword flashing, blood spraying. The Wolflings had no chance.

In less than two minutes, it was over.

He collected every corpse into his backpack.

They walked upright, sure—but they weren’t human. And the system confirmed it: fully edible.

Just minutes inside the ruin, and he’d already gathered a massive haul.

He was about to press onward when a chill shot down his spine.

Something was wrong.

A premonition, sharp and sudden.

And just as if to confirm it—on the opposite end of the hall, the stone door slowly creaked open.

From within the dark, a single Wolfling stepped forward.