Ice Age Apocalypse: I Hoard Billions of Supplies

The lower deck erupted into chaos once again.

Lu Dahai and his two brothers, however, returned to their cabin with cheerful expressions, carrying two large buckets of food before settling back into their bunks.

Several others were already inside the cabin.

Watching the trio hoard so much food, some snorted in disdain, despising them as bandits.

Others swallowed hard, their hunger driving them to the brink of rushing over to snatch even a single bite.

But the brothers' sharpened toothbrushes—weapons honed to a deadly edge—lay plainly in view. The blood still dripping from Lu Dahai's toothbrush forced the onlookers to reconsider.

Taking food from them would be no easy feat.

No one else had the courage to try.

He responded with a cold sneer.

Just yesterday, he'd stood up for others and been beaten half to death.

Not a single one of these temporary neighbors had lifted a finger to help him then.

Now, he certainly wouldn't share his food with them.

Lu Dahai picked up his toothbrush and ran his tongue along its edge, the coppery tang of blood spreading across his taste buds before dripping from the tip.

The grotesque, bloodthirsty display sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Old Huang! Come eat with us!"

Lu Dahai called out to Huang Dacheng, a fellow fisherman nearby.

After Lu Dahai and his brothers had been beaten by Zagu's gang the previous day, it was Huang Dacheng who had dragged them back to the cabin.

Huang Dacheng hurried over without hesitation. "Then I won't stand on ceremony."

Lu Dahai shoved a steamed bun into Huang Dacheng's hands, and the man perched on the edge of a bunk, devouring it ravenously.

Though the meal consisted only of plain buns, watery porridge, and stir-fried potatoes with green peppers, they ate as if it were a feast of abalone and lobster.

Gradually, the others in the cabin began to clutch their growling stomachs.

They hadn't eaten well yesterday, and today was worse—their rations had been halved.

Many in the cabin had failed to secure any food at all, leaving them in agony.

Two fishermen, friends of Huang Dacheng who were also acquainted with Lu Dahai's group, exchanged glances before making their decision. They approached Lu Dahai together.

"Brother Lu, could you spare us some food?"

"We'll follow you from now on!"

Lu Dahai looked up at their ingratiating smiles.

Without a word, he pulled four steaming buns from the bucket and shoved two into each of their hands.

"Then we're brothers now. Come, eat with us!"

Overjoyed, the two men thanked him profusely before crowding around the bucket to wolf down their meal.

Emboldened by their example, others in the cabin began gathering around.

"Lu Dahai, could you share some with us too?"

A white-haired businessman in his sixties ventured.

"Hah!"

Lu Dahai's lips twisted into a sneer. "What the hell are you? You think you deserve my food? What use are you? Could you even throw a punch? When I was getting beaten, you just stood there and watched. Now you want to eat? Dream on!"

The old businessman trembled but hesitated to argue further when he met Lu Dahai's murderous glare.

He shrank back in fear.

But some were bolder.

A few quick-witted young men observed how Huang Dacheng's friends had succeeded and approached Lu Dahai.

"Brother Lu, we want to follow you too!"

Having spent time together, they were familiar faces.

Lu Dahai eyed them. "You willing to fight?"

"Absolutely!" they declared without hesitation.

"Tch."

Lu Dahai scoffed.

These two were spoiled rich kids—all talk, no action. Who knew if they'd actually back their words when it mattered?

Still, he tossed them each a bun and let them join the meal.

Bit by bit, nearly eight grown men in the cabin rallied around Lu Dahai, swelling his ranks.

This was exactly the life he wanted.

If others could play the bandit, seizing food by force, so could he.

Most in the cabin were useless sheep, after all.

Why be a sheepdog when he could be the wolf?

Soon, Lu Dahai's faction grew rapidly.

Over time, the lower deck split into two major factions:

Zagu's stowaway gang and Lu Dahai's fishermen alliance.

"Gangs" was a grandiose term—they were just desperate refugees scheming for their next meal.

Those who didn't join either group were left scavenging scraps or going hungry entirely.

Did those above decks know about this?

Of course they did.

And they couldn't care less.

Zhang Yi had simply told Old Tian to "cleanse the area with firepower" if the lower deck caused trouble.

"So, what counts as 'trouble'?" Old Tian had asked.

Zhang Yi chuckled. "If they wake me up, that's trouble!"

Old Tian understood.

The comment was a joke, but it underscored Zhang Yi's indifference to the lower deck's survival.

Old Tian had full discretion—whether those people lived or died meant nothing to Zhang Yi.

As for Zhu Yunque and Su Nuanxi, those compassionate noblewomen, those angelic figures rivaling the Virgin Mary—what were they doing?

They were being thoroughly tormented by baby Tommy.

Their negligence had left the child feverish and suffering from a skin infection.

With Zhang Yi's approval, Zhou Ke'er administered medicine.

But the only real solution was for Zhu Yunque and Su Nuanxi to be more careful—no more mistakes.

After Zhou Ke'er's stern lecture, the two women were guilt-ridden.

Yet, they also grew weary.

Children were such troublesome creatures!

Both silently vowed never to have kids of their own.

But since they'd chosen this burden, they couldn't abandon it now.

As for the lower deck's turmoil?

They no longer had time to care.

Unbeknownst to them, their neglect would lead to countless casualties—a horrific tragedy in the making.

Three days passed in a blink.

On the open sea, such a short span meant little. Zhang Yi spent his days patrolling the ship for signs of sea beasts.

The rest of the time, he holed up in his room with Zhou Ke'er, practicing calligraphy.

But for those in the lower deck?

Every minute, every second, was a life-or-death struggle.

Author's Note