Zhang Jun watched the direction Hong Van had disappeared, the smile still lingering on his lips.
He wasn't worried she wouldn't come back.
A hot bowl of instant noodles, an ice-cold Coca-Cola, a pack of spicy snack sticks. In normal times, those were just cheap snacks stacked on convenience store shelves. But in the world of the Collapse, they'd become the sharpest hooks imaginable.
Hooks in her stomach.
Hooks in whatever rational thought she had left.
Zhang Jun settled onto the folding cot behind the counter and pulled up the System panel.
[Spatial Transfer: Cooldown Active]
[Time Remaining: 10:34:25]
Over ten hours.
Plenty of time.
Zhang Jun wasn't in a rush. He stood, made a slow circuit of the Dai Jun General Store like a proprietor taking stock before opening hours.
Ten cases of beef-flavored instant noodles.
A dozen-plus cases of bottled water.
Ice-cold Coca-Cola in the cooler.
Ready-to-eat sausages, spicy snack sticks, sunflower seeds, roasted peanuts, crackers, hard candy, AA batteries, lighters, tape, box cutters. The kind of stuff so ordinary that customers used to walk right past it without a second glance.
Now every item on those shelves looked like a voucher you could cash in for gold.
Zhang Jun pulled open the small refrigerator in the corner behind the counter. A thin breath of cold air hit his face, carrying the smell of old plastic and food that had been sitting too long.
On the bottom shelf sat a tray of eggs.
He'd bought them a few days ago to save money—hard-boiled, eaten one by one. Five left.
Zhang Jun looked down at the eggs resting quietly in their plastic tray. Ordinary enough that no one would think they were worth more than pocket change. But in a world where fresh vegetables had become a luxury, an intact chicken egg could make people's eyes go red.
A very good idea began to take shape in his mind.
A little over an hour later.
Zhang Jun was propped on his elbow behind the counter, eyelids starting to droop, when a dull explosion cracked through the ruins outside.
The sound of a steel door being torn apart.
He snapped fully awake and moved to the entrance, scanning the pitch-black plaza ahead.
A moment later, a tall, lean silhouette drenched in deep red burst out of the dust.
Hong Van was back.
She looked rougher than when she'd left. Her fitted leather jacket was smeared with patches of gray ash, one sleeve lightly scorched. Her breathing was harder than usual—the trip had clearly not been easy.
But she was carrying an extra bag. A heavy black canvas sack.
*Thud.*
The bag hit the concrete in front of the store, metal clanking solidly against metal.
"Two hundred grams of gold. More, not less."
Hong Van's voice was hoarse with exhaustion, but her eyes burned hotter than before.
"Where's my order?"
Zhang Jun didn't move to get the goods. He looked at the bag sitting outside the door.
He couldn't step outside. So how was he supposed to verify the payment?
The thought had barely formed when the System's cold mechanical voice sounded in his head.
[Transaction Item Detected Outside Absolute Safe Zone.]
[Authorize One-Way Transfer?]
Of course.
Zhang Jun answered silently: *Authorize.*
The black canvas bag outside the door lifted as if raised by an invisible hand. It passed through the Space Barrier without the slightest resistance and dropped softly at Zhang Jun's feet.
Hong Van's pupils contracted.
She'd seen with her own eyes that she couldn't cross that barrier. Yet the bag of gold had passed through like it was nothing.
The man inside this store was definitely not just some eccentric shopkeeper.
Zhang Jun crouched and opened the bag.
Inside wasn't neatly stacked gold bars—it was rough gold chains, bent rings, pried-off pendants, a few pieces of scorched jewelry caked in black soot. The store's white light caught them and they flashed with the unmistakable color of real gold.
He pulled a small digital scale from under the counter, switched it on, zeroed it out, and poured the entire haul onto the platform.
The number on the screen flickered and jumped, then settled.
208.5 grams.
Zhang Jun gave a satisfied nod.
The debt that had been pressing down on him for months—one transaction had just wiped out nearly a third of it.
And his cost of goods? One bowl of instant noodles, one ice-cold Coca-Cola, and one pack of spicy snack sticks.
This wasn't profit anymore.
This was opening a store directly on top of a gold mine.
"My order."
Outside, Hong Van's voice had gone noticeably thin with impatience.
The smell of noodles still hung in the air, threading straight into her stomach. The harder she tried to ignore it, the sharper the hunger clawed—a craving with an edge like a razor.
Zhang Jun turned back to the shelves at an unhurried pace.
He picked up a pack of beef-flavored instant noodles, one ice-cold Coca-Cola, one pack of spicy snack sticks. Then, right in front of Hong Van, he set the kettle to boil.
The sound of water bubbling filled the small store.
He tore open the noodle pack, dropped the brick into an enamel bowl, shook in the dried vegetable packet, the oil packet, and the seasoning packet. When the boiling water poured down, a rich, fatty beef aroma erupted instantly, slipping through the gap in the doorway and curling into the cold, stale air of the ruins outside.
Hong Van stood completely still.
She could feel her own mouth refusing to behave.
Zhang Jun carried the steaming bowl toward the door.
Just as Hong Van thought he was about to hand it over, he stopped.
His other hand reached into his jacket pocket and came out with something.
A pale brown chicken egg.
In a wasteland where living things were rarer than weapons, an intact fresh egg was practically a treasure.
No.
To someone living through the Collapse, it was worth more than diamonds.
Hong Van's breath caught.
She stared at the egg in Zhang Jun's hand. In those sharp, phoenix-tipped eyes, something cracked open for the first time—undisguised shock and want she couldn't hide.
Zhang Jun raised his eyes to meet hers, the corner of his mouth curving just slightly.
"Want the egg on top?"
Hong Van's entire body went rigid.
Every guard she'd put up, every trace of arrogance and carefully maintained calm she'd held onto since the beginning—all of it shaken by one chicken egg.
When she spoke, her voice was so hoarse it sounded foreign to her own ears.
"How much?"
Zhang Jun turned the egg slowly in his fingers, as if weighing a rare commodity.
Then he looked up and said, perfectly calm:
"Fifty grams of gold."
"Are you out of your mind?"
Hong Van flared. Her deep red hair stirred in the wave of heat rolling off her, a pulse of warmth sweeping outward and lifting the dust at her feet.
"Fifty grams for one egg? Why don't you just rob me outright?"
She'd cleared out an abandoned jewelry store and killed over a dozen Deadwalkers to scrape together that gold.
And now he wanted fifty grams for a single egg?
This wasn't selling.
This was carving meat off a living person.
Zhang Jun acted as though he hadn't noticed her anger at all. He stood behind the Space Barrier, expression so placid it was infuriating.
"You don't have to take it."
"Eggs aren't something I sell to just anyone."
"If the price is too high, that's fine."
He made as if he was genuinely about to put the egg back in his pocket.
"Wait—"
The words burst out of Hong Van before she could stop them.
Zhang Jun paused.
He stood behind the Space Barrier, egg in one hand, looking so unhurried that Hong Van wanted to grind her teeth.
He didn't say a word.
His eyes said it clearly enough: her call.
Hong Van had never been backed into a corner like this.
As a fire-type Awakened, she'd always used strength to clear her path. Deadwalkers, gangs, steel doors, stockrooms—anything her fire swept through had to give way.
But in front of this little store, in front of that invisible barrier, every bit of her power was suddenly a joke.
"I…"
Hong Van's voice came out rough.
She wanted to say she didn't need it. Wanted to turn around and walk away and be done with it. But the smell of hot noodles, the rich beef broth, and the egg sitting in Zhang Jun's hand blocked every exit.
It wasn't just hunger.
It was something she'd lost a long time ago.
A hot meal.
Clean food.
A taste that reminded you that before this world rotted away, people had lived like people.
Hong Van closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the fire at their depths had quieted. Only a very heavy silence remained.
She reached down to the small pouch clipped to her leather jacket, rummaged for a moment, then opened her palm.
Resting on her black glove was a crystal roughly the size of a pigeon's egg.
It was gray-white throughout, its surface covered in irregular veining like dried-out capillaries. Deep inside, a faint point of light moved in slow circulation, radiating a cold, unsettling quality that was hard to put into words.
"I'm a little short on gold right now."
Hong Van's voice was steadier, but still slightly rough.
"Use this for the egg."
Zhang Jun raised an eyebrow.
What was that?
A rock?
What he needed right now was gold to pay off his debt—not some gray, unidentified stone of unknown origin.
"This store only accepts gold."
He turned it down without hesitation.
But the moment the words left his mouth, a pale blue panel materialized in front of him.
[Warning: High-Energy Reaction Item Detected.]
[Analyzing…]
[Item: Low-Grade Deadwalker Core]
[Assessment: Core Strategic Resource of the Collapse World.]
[Value: Extraordinary. High.]
[Recommendation: Complete the transaction.]
Zhang Jun's heart skipped a beat.
He'd been calculating how many more bowls of noodles, how many more Coca-Colas, how many more cases of goods it would take to fill the thirty-five-million-dong hole in his finances.
But the System had just told him something very clearly.
He'd been looking at the wrong thing entirely.
Gold was just cash on hand.
That gray-white crystal was what actually held value in the Collapse world.
The Dai Jun General Store hadn't opened so he could sell a few packs of noodles for gold. It had opened so he could extract things the real world had absolutely none of.
Deadwalker Cores.
Strategic resources.
Those two words were enough to snap Zhang Jun fully alert.
But his expression didn't change. He gave the crystal in Hong Van's hand a single glance, his face carrying a faint trace of distaste.
"What kind of rock is that? Ugly thing."
Hong Van's expression darkened immediately, her fingers closing into a fist.
"This is a Deadwalker Core. Every Awakened who wants to grow stronger needs one. Its value is something gold can't touch."
"Hm."
Zhang Jun's reply was completely flat.
Inside, he was thinking the exact opposite.
Definitely the good stuff.
He forced his quickening pulse back down and stretched his voice out like a man who couldn't care less:
"I run a convenience store. What would I do with something like this?"
"You—"
Hong Van was angry enough that the heat around her body surged again. Dust at her feet rolled in small spirals across the cracked concrete.
This man wasn't just difficult to deal with.
He was deliberately playing blind to something valuable right in front of him.
Zhang Jun watched her for a few more seconds, then let out a breath like someone who'd finally run out of patience.
"Fine. I can see you're making a genuine effort. I'll make an exception. Just this once."
Then, silently, he said: *Take it.*
The Deadwalker Core in Hong Van's palm vanished.
A second later, it was in Zhang Jun's hand.
The first thing he felt was cold.
Not the cold of ice—something deeper, like a current of dark, dormant energy sleeping inside the crystal. The surface was hard and smooth, faintly like unpolished jade.
Zhang Jun didn't examine it long. He tucked the Core into his pants pocket with the casual air of a man reluctantly accepting something he had no use for.
Then he picked up the egg.
Under Hong Van's gaze—which looked about ready to catch fire—Zhang Jun tapped the egg lightly against the rim of the enamel bowl.
*Crack.*
A small sound.
But in that moment, Hong Van heard it more clearly than a gunshot.
The shell split. Clear egg white and golden yolk slid down together into the steaming bowl of noodles.
The white hit the hot broth and immediately set at the edges, forming a thin, soft layer. The yolk still trembled slightly, resting in the red-tinged broth, rich and bright—something too luxurious to exist in a place like this.
The smell of cooked egg wound into the beef broth and seasoning oil.
The whole bowl became fragrant in a way that was almost painful.
Painful because of how badly she wanted it.
Hong Van stared into the bowl without blinking.
This time, Zhang Jun didn't make her wait.
He passed the bowl of noodles with the egg, the ice-cold Coca-Cola, and the pack of spicy snack sticks through the Space Barrier and set them down in front of Hong Van.
Hong Van nearly snatched the bowl out of the air.
She held it tight against herself, enough that a little broth sloshed over the rim.
She didn't look at the Coca-Cola.
Didn't bother with the spicy snack sticks.
Every bit of her attention was pulled to the egg sitting in the center of the bowl.
Hong Van picked up the fork. Her movements slowed, careful in a way that looked like she was handling something fragile.
The tines pressed gently into the yolk.
The thin membrane broke.
Rich, silky yolk ran out, bleeding into the hot broth, coating every coiled strand of noodle.
Hong Van couldn't wait any longer. She wound a forkful of noodles heavy with broth and egg and put it straight in her mouth.
Hot.
Rich.
Savory.
So good her whole body shuddered.
A soft sound escaped Hong Van's throat. It was something like satisfaction—and something like a sob she'd been holding back for too long.
In that moment, she wasn't the fire-type Awakened who had burned through entire hordes of Deadwalkers.
She was just someone who had gone hungry for too long, finally eating a real hot meal.
Hong Van ate fast.
Broth splattered onto her chin and she didn't notice. Noodles, egg, dried vegetables, the bits of scallion at the bottom of the bowl—nothing was left behind.
When the noodles were gone, she lifted the bowl and drank the broth down to the last drop.
Then she opened the ice-cold Coca-Cola, tilted her head back, and drank in one long pull. The cold liquid slid down her throat and she closed her eyes for a few seconds.
Only then did she tear open the spicy snack sticks.
One piece at a time.
Much slower than she'd eaten the noodles.
As if she were holding onto the last taste of an era that was already gone.
Zhang Jun leaned against the doorframe and watched her eat.
He didn't smirk. Didn't say another word.
Hong Van looked up.
The look she gave Zhang Jun was far more complicated than before. Satisfaction. Wariness. Something guarded. And a faint thread of anticipation she herself might not have recognized yet.
"I'll be back."
She didn't linger. The deep red silhouette turned and quickly dissolved into the darkness at the far end of the ruined street.
Zhang Jun watched the direction she'd gone, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.
He knew she'd be back.
A little while later, Zhang Jun switched off the old desk fan behind the counter and sat down on the folding cot, which creaked the same way it always did.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ice-cold Deadwalker Core.
Under the flat white light of the convenience store, the faint point of light inside the crystal continued its slow, steady circulation.
Zhang Jun turned it between two fingers, his gaze gradually deepening.
He wanted to see for himself.
What this thing could actually give him.