Ice Age Apocalypse: I Hoard Billions of Supplies

Lu Dahai, Rong Lei, and Yu Gang were beaten bloody and left barely breathing.

Some crew members took pity on them and wanted to call for medical help from the ship's doctor.

But they were quickly stopped by others.

"Are you insane? If the higher-ups find out about this mess down here, who'll take responsibility?"

"But those stowaways threw the first punch! We're in the right here!"

"In the right? Hah! You think those people care whether we live or die?"

"From the start, Captain Zhang knew we were short on supplies and never planned to help. We're lucky they're giving us passage at all. Don't cause trouble."

"What if we anger them and they throw us all overboard?"

Deep in their bones flowed five thousand years of fine Huaxu tradition—avoid matters that don't concern you, better others die than yourself. After these persuasions, even the fishermen who initially wanted to help hesitated.

They knew the doctor was Captain Zhang's woman. How could such an esteemed person come to this filthy place to treat mere fishermen?

"Brothers, it's not that we won't help. We've got our own problems. May fortune favor you," said fisherman Huang Dacheng with a helpless sigh.

Some in their quarters knew basic first aid and bandaged their wounds with cloth scraps. The rest was up to fate.

Perhaps heaven took pity, or perhaps the three were just tough—by next morning, they showed signs of recovery. Not from luck though.

Zagu had measured his strikes carefully. Veteran gangsters know how to appear lethally violent while avoiding vital spots. He just wanted to assert dominance, not cause real trouble.

Still, Lu Dahai suffered a mild concussion and couldn't rise from bed. Rong Lei and Yu Gang fared slightly better but ached everywhere.

Seeing them alive, people offered brief concern before moving on. Everyone was too hungry and preoccupied to care much about others.

But in Lu Dahai's heart, vengeful flames now raged uncontrollably.

"Don't even know how long I'll live, yet I'm letting these bastards walk all over me?"

Watching the arrogant stowaway gang strut through the lower decks, a dark fury rose in him—not just toward them, but also the cowardly passengers who refused to unite.

"Fuck! I stick my neck out for you lot, and you turtles hide in your shells!"

"Goddamn it, I'll make you pay!"

But he couldn't act yet. His injuries needed healing, and starvation demanded food first. So he pretended fear, avoiding further conflict with Zagu.

Late that night, waves crashed loudly against the hull, drowning out the cabin's snoring. Lu Dahai quietly woke his brothers.

"Come. We need to talk."

Having sailed together for years, Rong Lei and Yu Gang understood his murderous gaze instantly. The three sneaked to the toilet.

"Spit it out, boss! We taking out those stowaway scum?" growled Rong Lei, a bald man with wild stubble and fierce eyes.

Having killed on Rockflow Island, their courage ran deep. The stowaways' beating still burned in them.

Lu Dahai's voice turned icy. "Those motherfuckers starve us, then shit on our heads. I'm done tolerating them—they die."

Rong Lei nearly shouted in excitement: "Hell yes! Been itching to gut them! Won't rest till that fire inside's quenched!"

"I've decided—we're changing how we live."

Yu Gang hesitated. "How? They outnumber us ten to one. Can't count on those spineless passengers."

Lu Dahai's eyes turned viper-cold. "Them? They'll back whoever wins. Useless."

"Then what?" they asked.

His hatred extended beyond Zagu's gang to the very passengers he'd defended then abandoned him.

"I've got a plan. Listen close."

As he whispered his scheme, their faces paled.

"Will... will that work? Go that far?"

"Isn't it too risky?"

Lu Dahai snorted. "No mercy, no footing! They forced this. When we got beaten, those cowards stayed silent. Why spare them now?"

Being no saints themselves, the other two quickly resolved: Fuck it, let's do it! Better die well than live poorly!

...

Next noon during meal distribution, the upper decks dined peacefully on quality rations while Zhu Yunque and Su Nuanxi, busy with childcare, forgot the lower decks entirely.

Only when baby Tommy kept crying did they realize he might be sick, forcing them to seek Zhou Ke'er's help.

One glance at Tommy's hygiene told Zhou Ke'er everything.

"Diapers need frequent changing and washing. Baby skin is delicate—bacteria infections happen easily."

Zhu Yunque and Su Nuanxi exchanged weary looks. After ten days of childcare, their initial enthusiasm had worn dangerously thin.

Only those who've raised children understand the torment—constant holding, feeding, changing, inconsolable crying at all hours, sleep deprivation from midnight wakings. Taking shifts left both women with dark circles.

Exhausted, they longed to abandon everything. But since Zhu Yunque brought this trouble aboard, she had to endure it until landfall over a month later.

Author's Note