Apocalypse Survival: Starting with a Shelter

Beyond the issue of the internet, several chemical plants that had not yet been fully evacuated experienced leaks and explosions, further worsening the surface environment.

More detailed information was no longer accessible online.

Su Wu switched to his chat groups, only to find that even the private group of bunker owners was eerily silent, with no messages or updates.

He sighed, closed the chat, and resumed observing the outside world through the cameras mounted on the second floor of his farmhouse.

Compared to a few hours ago, the light had grown even dimmer. Fine, feather-like gray-white ash began to fall from the sky.

These were the crystallized remnants of smoke from the massive fires, condensed in the clouds before drifting down.

The only good news was that there were no longer visible flames on the distant mountains. Whether they had been completely extinguished or simply obscured by the ashfall was uncertain.

"Let's wait a bit longer."

For now, there was little Su Wu could do.

Drones were out of the question, as were his unmanned trucks, though they could theoretically be dispatched. However, relying solely on the cameras mounted on the truck would provide limited intelligence. If fires in the city were still out of control, discovering danger might come too late to escape.

While Su Wu gave up on probing the outside world, the construction team continued excavating the third level of the bunker. They worked methodically, crushing, digging, and hauling away rock 24/7, steadily expanding the bunker's capacity.

High temperatures, toxic gases, and falling ash had no impact on the machines.

By evening, the relentless ashfall finally began to ease. With the sun setting, the temperature dropped slightly, stabilizing at 58°C.

Su Wu deployed his drone reconnaissance team, sending them directly toward the city center.

Soon, a city devastated beyond recognition appeared on the drone's cameras.

Skyscrapers were burned to skeletal frameworks. Residential areas were gutted; doors, windows, and furniture had either melted or turned to ash, leaving behind only warped ruins. Streets were cracked and barren, while parked cars had become hollow shells, some reduced to skeletons, others crushed by falling signs.

The only reassuring sight was the still-functional entrances of some bunkers, where ambulances and fire trucks stood intact, their presence hinting at surviving personnel within.

Despite the devastation, the city's underground residents had not been entirely wiped out.

Su Wu directed the drones to hover silently above the city for a while before quietly recalling them.

The next day, the intermittent internet connection was completely severed, leaving Su Wu's bunker an isolated information island.

This disconnection wasn't due to worsening environmental conditions but because the signal tower near his area had exhausted its backup power and ceased functioning.

Even without the internet, however, there was still radio.

After some tinkering at the control center, Su Wu managed to tune into official broadcasts from nearby. Ironically, the information provided via radio was even more comprehensive than before.

In the fires that had raged through the city the previous day, the official bunkers suffered less damage than anticipated. There were virtually no casualties, though some supplies were lost to the flames.

In contrast, private and corporate bunkers fared far worse. Poor construction standards and inadequate emergency preparations led to devastating losses. The private bunkers located in the city center, where the fires had been most intense, were completely destroyed, leaving no survivors.

Moreover, the surface power plants had been burned down, and there were no resources or equipment to repair them.

Public electricity in Jianghe City had essentially collapsed, and for the foreseeable future, every bunker would have to generate its own power.

"Water, electricity, and the internet are all gone."

"Many people won't have an easy time in the coming days."

Su Wu felt pity for the smaller bunkers scattered around Jianghe City.

Unlike his bunker, which was nearly self-sufficient, most others relied heavily on city utilities. Without public infrastructure, even something as simple as lighting a bulb or drinking water required careful planning and rationing. Life in these bunkers was bound to be grueling.

Still, this had little to do with Su Wu.

He was just an ordinary person with no influence over others' fates, at least for now.

After listening to the official broadcast, Su Wu left the control center and headed to the entertainment room in the living quarters.

He turned on the television, playing a documentary about natural landscapes, and hopped onto the treadmill for some exercise.

In a post-apocalyptic world, maintaining a healthy body was paramount. Su Wu made sure to set aside time for workouts whenever possible.

An hour later, drenched in sweat after running eight kilometers, Su Wu stepped off the treadmill feeling refreshed.

After a quick shower, he brought out a plate of sliced fruit and a glass of ice-cold soda before settling onto the couch with a game controller in hand.

Immersed in the grand, vibrant worlds of his single-player games, time flew by. Before he knew it, the day had ended.

The next day, Su Wu spent half his time reading novels and the other half watching short videos.

Both the novels and videos were part of the vast collection downloaded by his AI before the internet went down. The sheer volume of content ensured he wouldn't run out of entertainment for years.

Still, it was a little disappointing that many of the stories he enjoyed had been left incomplete before the network outage. They would likely never see an ending.

On the third day, while listening to music, Su Wu discovered his favorite cover song, "Bedtime Fairy Tale," was sung by none other than Morning Light, the online friend he'd previously advised.

The realization left him craving more of her songs, but with the internet severed, there was no way to find them.

That evening, the system provided its daily report.

[Current Territory: Livable Personal Bunker (0%), Fixed Daily Survival Points: +3.]

[You listened to the master-level song "Bedtime Fairy Tale." Mental state slightly healed. Survival Points: +2.]

[Current Survival Points: 67.]

"Listening to music earns rewards?"

Su Wu was stunned.

In the past few days, his nightly rewards had been limited to the base three points, making his bunker feel stagnant. He'd assumed this was a fixed rule of the system.

Now, out of nowhere, there was a new avenue for earning points.

"Livability, music, mental healing—"

"Does this mean songs can increase the livability of my

bunker?"

Su Wu's eyes narrowed as he analyzed the key terms in the system message, his thoughts deepening.