After paying the deposit, Fallon hurried to the largest outdoor equipment store in the industry. The business was suffering from severe internal strife, and the store was conducting a drastic clearance sale before shutting down, with some items discounted as low as 20 percent off. It was the perfect time to snag some bargains.

She picked up two inflatable rafts, four rubber boats, earthquake and fire emergency kits, tents, fire axes, climbing ropes, binoculars, radios, waterproof flashlights, ultra-high-capacity solar chargers, and more. Life-saving supplies were not something to skimp on—she wanted everything to be of the highest quality.

Noticing a big spender, the shopkeeper enthusiastically recommended storm jackets and sleeping bags. "We're offering a discount on all items today. I guarantee you'll be satisfied with the quality."

Fallon looked at him disdainfully. "Do you have anything that can withstand temperatures below -60 or -70 degrees Celsius?"

The shopkeeper was taken aback. "This is the south—we wear short sleeves in winter."

"I'm heading to the North Pole for research."

Realizing she was serious, the shopkeeper quickly contacted a colleague and said, "We have polar winter gear and mummy sleeping bags. If used together, they can definitely withstand extreme cold. The only issue is that they’re quite expensive and stored in another province."

His colleague, who ran an online store with good reviews, could ship the items by express courier and guarantee delivery by tomorrow afternoon.

Fallon ordered two sets of each, spending over six thousand dollars.

At the outdoor equipment store, she spent another twelve thousand dollars, stuffing her car full of supplies before discreetly transferring them into her space.

The inflatable rafts required diesel fuel, but diesel wasn't sold to the public.

To solve this, Fallon visited an auto repair shop, purchased an oil extractor and several barrels, then filled up her car at multiple nearby gas stations. She drove to an uninhabited, camera-free location and used the oil extractor to transfer the fuel into the barrels. After several trips, she had stockpiled 500 liters of gasoline.

In this chaotic, post-apocalyptic world, where violence and bloodshed were rampant, she headed to a security shop. "Sir, I'm heading to the UK."

Upon hearing this, the shopkeeper brought out his finest merchandise. "The scenery there is unique; you shouldn't skimp on protection."

She purchased three sets of anti-chop and anti-stab suits and two bulletproof vests.

Without pausing for breath, Fallon drove to the largest clothing wholesale market on the outskirts.

She bought everything she could think of—down jackets, military coats, cashmere sweaters, thermal wear, scarves, gloves, socks, snow boots, light sports shoes, warm shoes, slippers. Brand names didn't matter, only quality.

Spending twelve thousand dollars at the wholesale clothing market, she then rushed to a neighboring store for daily necessities.

She stocked up on air-conditioning blankets, down quilts, and thick cotton quilts weighing eight to ten kilograms each, all packed in compression bags.

Other essentials followed: shampoo, shower gel, laundry powder, sanitary napkins, tissues, toothpaste, toothbrushes, thermoses, lighters, and rubber hot water bottles. She even bought twenty thousand hand warmers—lifesavers in extreme cold.

An online merchant was selling antique glass kerosene lamps and wind- and water-resistant horse lamps from the 60s and 70s. Fallon ordered five of each.

"Do you have kerosene?" she asked.

The store had some, but it wasn’t a popular item, so they only had 100 liters in stock.

She bought it all and asked the shopkeeper to provide extra wicks—much more durable than candles.

She also picked up alcohol stoves, alcohol blocks, and portable gas stoves. Remembering she had electricity in her space, she grabbed a few induction cookers as well.

She didn't stop there. Insecticides, disinfectants, drinking water purification tablets, mosquito repellent—anything she could think of, she bought.

By the time she left, she had spent another twenty thousand dollars.

Next door, the fruit wholesale market was stocked with around twenty different types of fruit—apples, pears, watermelons, kiwis, bananas, cantaloupes, starfruit, black grapes, and more. Six thousand dollars disappeared in an instant.

By the time she left the wholesale market, night had fallen.

Several missed calls lit up her phone, all from Nataniel. He had left a message on Instagram saying the goods were ready.

Fallon drove to his office building, where over twenty large boxes were waiting for her—antibiotics, anti-inflammatory drugs, iodophor, alcohol, medical gauze, and even tetanus vaccines.

These were life-saving supplies in a disaster. Although it had cost her over forty thousand dollars, the purchase eased her anxiety.

Nataniel handed her a two-thousand-dollar commission. "You wanted too many different things. Some medicines were out of stock, so I had to call in favors."

"I’ll drop off the goods first and treat you to a fancy meal in a few days," Fallon said as she sat in the driver’s seat. "A strong tropical cyclone is coming soon. Stock up on supplies at home."

Nataniel waved dismissively. This year alone, more than ten cyclones had been predicted—none of them had amounted to much.

Fallon stored the medicines in her space and drove to the food street near the university town. She ordered barbecue, beer, and fried rice noodles.

The street was bustling. Young students and couples filled the area, their vibrant, youthful faces completely oblivious to the impending disaster.

As she waited for her BBQ, her gaze fell on the glowing red charcoal in the grill.

Amidst the rush, she had almost forgotten one of the most crucial supplies.

She immediately asked the vendor for contacts at charcoal, coal, and liquefied gas suppliers.

One by one, she made calls, hoping for delivery the next day.

But she was out of luck. Those stores were in low-lying areas, and by order of the authorities, they had to relocate their stock within the next two days.

All three suppliers were in the same area. Fallon didn’t even have time to enjoy her barbecue—she immediately drove over.

Charcoal was cheap but took up a lot of space. She assessed the remaining storage capacity in her space and decided to buy 500 kilograms of smokeless, high-temperature charcoal, along with a charcoal stove and ignition aids.

A single bottle of liquefied gas could last two months, so she ordered ten.

Honeycomb briquettes were long-lasting, but due to a nationwide power shortage and trade sanctions with Australia, coal prices had skyrocketed. Each briquette cost two dollars. Gritting her teeth, she ordered two thousand.

By the time she returned to her apartment, it was nearly nine o'clock. Fallon took a brief rest before entering her space to organize the chaotic piles of supplies.

To maximize space, she stacked the gas bottles, coal briquettes, and charcoal in the kitchen.

She stripped all unnecessary packaging from her supplies. Fluffy items were compressed in vacuum bags, stacked layer by layer up to the ceiling.

Money was no object—she had spent over 120,000 dollars in one day, barely filling up the small room and kitchen, using up about 50 cubic meters of storage.

Just as she finished tidying up, something suddenly slammed into her.

She stumbled and fell out of the space.

Dazed, Fallon muttered, "…"

She tried to re-enter, but an invisible barrier blocked her.

What the hell? The space had swallowed her supplies! No payment required.