Building My Empire in the Frozen Apocalypse (Riley Carter) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Day Three

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Pale morning light filtered through the gaps in the log cabin walls, falling across Riley’s face as she slowly blinked awake.

She’d slept deeply–surprisingly so. For one fleeting moment, wrapped in warmth and that rare sense of security, she almost believed she was still back home in her own bed.

Then she saw the rough–hewn wooden ceiling. Felt the texture of the system–issued white bathrobe against her skin. Reality crashed back in.

“Day three.”

Riley sat up and habitually opened the “Server Channel“.

“Current Online Players: 4512/10000”

The number held steady at just over forty–five hundred.

SB

–

Compared to the catastrophic freefall of the first day, the overnight death toll was only around four hundred. Not just because the survivors were slowly adapting to the brutal rules–more importantly, these first few days were the “beginner grace period“. As long as you didn’t do anything monumentally stupid, you could scrape by on the bread and water the system handed out.

The channel atmosphere had shifted too. Less desperate screaming, more actual conversation.

“Anyone wanna team up? I headed east from my camp and spotted a fire in the distance. That one of you guys?”

“I’m down to team. Being solo is terrifying. Heard wolves howling all night, didn’t sleep a wink.”

“For real? I haven’t seen a single other survivor near my spot.”

“Yo, looking for a strong player to roll with! I can sing, tell jokes, whatever–just share some food with me!”

Watching the flood of “team up” and “add me” messages, Riley mulled it over.

Humans were social creatures. Soon as people caught their breath, they started hunting for company.

“Socializing…”

Riley frowned. Truth was, she had pretty bad social anxiety. And in a post–apocalyptic setup like this, with everyone’s true intentions hidden behind a screen, rushing into contact with strangers felt like asking for

trouble.

“But going full hermit isn’t smart either.”

She thought about LoneWolf, who’d traded her materials yesterday. And Night_Wanderer, who’d swapped meat for wood.

The trading system was the only real economy in this game right now, Without connections, even if she

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Chapter 11 Day Three

+35 Free Coins

crafted top–tier gear down the line, she’d have no one to sell it to. Same problem in reverse- urgently needed some rare material, poor information flow could leave her stranded.

-if she

“Guess I’ll keep an eye out. Screen a few business partners who seem stable. Not too crazy. Add them as friends later.”

She set her mental strategy. Don’t actively seek groups. Don’t refuse trades. Keep distance. Prioritize profit.

******

After a leisurely morning routine–which, in this frozen hell, meant the luxury of washing up with warm water–Riley walked out to the big wooden crate and grabbed the day’s rations.

“White Bread x3

“Bottled Water x3

“Fresh Apple Juice x1”

“Bread again…”

Whints

Riley chewed on the white bread. Softer than the black stuff, sure, but still completely bland. She frowned.

“Gotta figure out the food situation.”

Relying on system welfare meant she wouldn’t starve–but she’d never be full either. Worse, this “grace period” only lasted five days. If she hadn’t secured a stable food source by then, what was she supposed to do? Start chewing bark?

Also, she’d been keeping an eye out for something else–Random Reward Crates.

People in the channel kept mentioning them. Crates spawning near their camps, packed with chocolate, crackers, even canned meat. But so far? Aside from the initial starter crate, Riley hadn’t seen a single one.

“Is it because I never leave the house?”

She reflected on her routine. Past two days had been a simple loop: cabin–woods–cabin. Rinse and repeat. Her total range hadn’t exceeded a couple hundred feet.

“Guess I need to venture further today.”

After breakfast, Riley didn’t rush out. Instead, she turned and walked toward the Intermediate Mechanical Workshop that dominated half her camp.

Even without electricity–rendering all the automated tools useless–this place was still a goldmine.

She rummaged through the workbench area, grabbing the imported hand axe she’d gotten comfortable with yesterday and a few spare tools.

But just an axe wasn’t enough. Dragging logs back one by one was exhausting.

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