Chen Yun put the phone down and let out a long breath.

On that call he’d ordered a huge shipment of building supplies from the hardware company — cement, sand and gravel, concrete, waterproof sheeting, insulation, soundproofing layers — scheduled to arrive at the warehouse tomorrow afternoon.

It wasn’t cheap. The deposit alone ate up about a fifth of his assets.

His chest ached at the cost, but he didn’t hesitate when he paid. This was necessary.

A big batch of materials would earn him points. He didn’t know exactly how many points he’d need to reinforce the old house, but he was sure he was far short of what he’d need.

Then the fuel-tank expansion prompt on the truck had sparked an idea. If the truck’s tank could be directionally enhanced and expanded, why not do the same with the cellar on his property? If expendable fuel cans could expand a fuel tank, then building simple cubic concrete blocks — bricks, cement, concrete — to form placeholder volumes might likewise be consumed to expand the cellar. That would drastically reduce the points he needed.

Converted another way, he’d be trading money for points. To Chen Yun, that was a fair bargain. Money was just an external thing; once the end came, cash would be useless paper. If he didn’t spend it now, he might not get another chance.

After a short rest he checked the time. It was already past eight.

He unloaded all the cargo from the truck into the warehouse using the space-transfer, then loaded every empty fuel can from the warehouse into the truck bed. Dozens of gasoline and diesel cans filled the cargo area.

He shut the truck doors, climbed into the cab, started the engine and headed south.

Yesterday the hardware shop owner, Sun, had tipped him off — behind the old repair shop in the south end there was “Old Wang Auto Repair,” the place to get off-the-books fuel.

It was nearly nine. Time to check it out.

The truck tore down the road and soon arrived at the old auto shop. Beyond a stretch of unlit, rutted lane, a weathered sign flickered: “Old Wang Auto Repair.”

Under the sign, a gaunt, shirtless old man lounged in a rocking chair, fanning himself. An ancient radio nearby hissed out distorted snippets of opera.

“This place gives me the creeps…” Chen Yun murmured.

He killed the engine, stepped out, and walked toward the old man. The thin guy lifted an eyelid at the approaching footsteps and rasped, “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow.”

Chen Yun quickened his pace, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offered one and said, “Mr. Wang, Old Sun sent me. I’m looking to buy some industrial solvent.”

“Industrial solvent, huh? How much do you need?” Wang accepted the cigarette but kept fanning.

“A lot,” Chen Yun said, pausing. “Not sure if you have enough.”

“You got a big appetite.” Wang stopped fanning, straightened up and peered at him. “Whatever you want, I got. I’ve been in this business forever and I’ve never seen anyone empty out Wang the Lame’s stock entirely. Young man, as long as the money’s right, I’ve got solvent to spare.”

He tossed the fan aside, tucked the cigarette behind his ear and grinned. “Can’t smoke here, though. Get in your truck and follow me.”

Wang limped off toward the back lot. Chen Yun climbed into his truck and followed.

The yard was a mess of spare parts. Two semi-trailers sat up against the east and south walls, each draped under heavy black tarps. Wang hobbled over to the trailer by the wall and called back, “Want gasoline or diesel?”

Chen Yun parked near the east trailer, stepped out and said, “Both. What’s the price?”

Wang chuckled. “92 octane six kuai, 95 six fifty, diesel five twenty.”

“That’s a lot cheaper than the market,” Chen Yun observed, pulling two fuel cans from his cargo.

“Everyone on the road knows Wang the Lame’s goods are cheap and honest,” Wang said with a wink.

Chen Yun carried the cans up to the trailer. Wang peeled back a corner of the tarp to reveal a massive tank inside. He pulled out a nozzle and motioned for Chen Yun to set the cans down.

Before long, every can was full. Wang put the nozzle back and said, “That all? I’ve still got a ton more.”

After loading the last can into the truck, Chen Yun shut the doors and told him, “This is just a start. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be right here,” Wang replied, slapping his knee. “I want to see if this young’un can empty me out.”

Chen Yun paid in cash and drove off. The warehouse was less than ten li away; he returned quickly.

He shifted the full cans into the warehouse and stared at the neat rows of containers. The remaining empty cans in storage were only enough for two more trips.

“Not enough. Time to use the system,” he muttered.

He split the empties into two piles — plastic diesel cans and metal gasoline cans. He pressed his hand against the largest empty can, pulled up the system’s panel and selected Enhance.

A mechanical voice sounded in his head.

[Empty diesel can detected. Consume other diesel cans to perform directed enhancement on the current can?]

[Enhancement direction: container expansion.]

[Required points: 60.]

“Yes,” he said mentally.

[Confirm enhancement. Consume survival points: 60.]

[Enhancement in progress…]

A progress bar crawled across the light interface. The plastic cans shimmered faintly. Seconds later the bar filled.

Hum—

The pile flashed. Chen Yun squinted. When his vision cleared, the stack of empty cans had vanished and in their place sat a huge plastic tank.

[Enhancement successful!] the system announced.

He measured it visually — roughly eight meters long and over two meters tall — about twenty-five cubic meters. That should be enough, he thought.

He repeated the process with the metal gasoline cans. Sixty points later, a slightly smaller metal tank appeared — about twenty cubic meters.

Satisfied, he poured the fuel from the full cans into the two tanks, then waved his hand and stored the tanks into system space. The tanks floated quietly in the storage pocket.

He moved the emptied cans back to the truck and drove to Old Wang’s again.

…

It was eleven at night in Wang’s backyard. Chen shut the truck, stepped up and asked, “All totaled, how much?”

Wang numbly put away the nozzle and tapped his phone calculator. “This batch — fifty thousand.”

Chen handed over five stacks of red bills and watched him count. “You sure you’re not robbing me, young man? Why do you need so much fuel?”

“I run a farm out in the country. Generators. Lots of fuel. It’s a pain to keep running back and forth, so I’m stocking up,” Chen lied loosely.

Wang didn’t press him. When he finished, Chen climbed back in. Wang clapped a hand on his shoulder. “If you need fuel later, come to your old man. Can’t promise I’ll always have that much, but I guarantee quality and the best price around.”

“Okay,” Chen Yun said, waved without turning, and drove off.

After hauling the cans back into the warehouse space, he drove his car to his rented apartment.

Five runs had cost him 250,000 total, just enough to fill the two tanks and leave a few cans of leftover fuel. If he didn’t waste it, this supply would last him a long time after the end came, he figured, mentally tallying supplies and the remainder of his savings.

He arrived home just before midnight. After a quick wash he sat on the couch and watched the wall clock tick toward twelve.

Ding—

The familiar mechanical chime rang in his head.

Chen’s eyes lit up. “Here it is — today’s point settlement.”