Survival Queen of the Frozen Wastes novel Chapter 3

The blizzard howled outside, but within the six-foot radius of the campfire, the air stayed surprisingly warm—like the wind had hit an invisible wall and just couldn't reach.

Riley leaned back against the dusty wooden crate, holding the half-empty water bottle in her hand. She stared into the flames for a moment, then focused her attention inward. The pale blue system panel unfolded in front of her eyes again.

Now that the immediate crisis was handled, she finally had time to sit quietly and really explore this so-called "Survival System".

Beyond the personal stats and inventory, the bottom of the panel had a row of function icons: Server Channel, Friends List, Trading Market, and Crafting Manual.

Friends List was empty. No surprise there. She hadn't exactly been a social butterfly back in the old world, and she sure as hell wasn't going to make friends easily in a frozen hellscape where everyone was fighting for their next breath.

She tapped into the "Server Channel".

A line of numbers appeared in the top left.

"Server: US-008

"Current Online: 9911/10000"

Ten thousand people started. Less than ten hours in, eighty-nine were already gone.

"That doesn't add up."

Everyone's starter crate came with a rusty iron axe and five units of wood. Plus the initial fuel the campfire had when they arrived—that alone bought them ten hours minimum, even if they just sat there doing nothing.

What the hell did those people do to get eliminated so fast?

The channel was moving fast, messages scrolling by every second. Desperation dripped from every line.

"Someone help, I'm freezing my ass off out here. This stupid axe can't cut sh*t—every swing just bounces off and rattles my whole arm. Can anyone spare a couple logs? My dad's a senior VP at Walker Group. I'll wire you a million dollars when we get back, I swear."

"Wake up, buddy. If your dad's still alive, he's out there chopping trees right now too."

"Don't even talk to me. I spotted a wooden crate in the snow earlier, got all excited, ran over—and before I got within ten feet, some white rabbit thing jumped out of a drift. Teeth like needles. Almost took a chunk out of my leg. Missed the crate, wasted all that energy for nothing."

"I saw that too! Random crates spawn in the wild. I opened a wooden one and got two chocolate bars and some coal."

Reading through the chaos, Riley picked out two keywords, "Random Reward Crates" and "Dangerous Creatures".

So this world was deeper than she thought. Wooden crates, copper crates—these randomly spawning resource points were the real way to get ahead.

Coal came from crates. That was useful to know.

And if coal was in crates, steel probably was too.

But something bothered her. According to what people were saying, reward crates weren't exactly rare. So why hadn't she found a single one during her lumber run?

She doubted it was just bad luck.

Riley exited chat and tapped into the "Trading Market".

"Seller: MountainMan88 Item: Stone x2 Wants: White Bread x5"

"Seller: LoneWolf_21 Item: Cotton Cloth Wants: Clean Water"

"Seller: NotDeadYet Item: Wood x3 Wants: Anything edible"

Most people were trading for food and wood. The stuff that kept you alive right now. Things like stone and cloth were getting dumped cheap—nobody had the luxury of thinking long-term.

Riley looked at her own inventory. Eighty units of wood staring back at her. Her heart beat a little faster.

In this opening phase, where wood literally meant the difference between life and death, the resources in her hands were basically gold bars.

"Time to trade," she muttered to herself. "Coal, steel—can't get those from chopping trees. And right now, wood's at maximum value. If I wait, the exchange rate shifts."

Even with the chainsaw dead, she still had the handsaw. Less efficient, sure, but she could gather more wood if she needed it. Short-term, she wasn't going to run out.

She clicked to post a message in the channel.

"System Prompt: Detected that you have not set a virtual ID. Please enter your nickname (cannot be changed after setting)."

Riley stared at the blank input box. Naming things was the worst.

She sat there for a long time, nothing coming to mind.

Finally, she gave up. Couldn't think of anything cool or clever, so she'd just go with something random.

Her fingers tapped across the virtual keyboard—SpicyBurger.

"Setting successful. ID locked."

The prompt closed. Riley posted her message.

"SpicyBurger: Selling wood in bulk. Looking for: Coal, Steel, High-calorie food. DM me with offers—what you have and your rate. Good deals go fast, don't sleep on this."

For three seconds after the message appeared, the channel went dead silent. Then it exploded.

"SpicyBurger? That name's making me hungry, what the hell."

"Never mind the name—'wood in bulk'! We got a whale in here! Everyone else is stressing about the next hour and this person's already running a business?"

"I need some! My campfire's down to like two hours. I don't know if I actually die when it hits zero but I don't wanna find out."

Suddenly, half the channel was scrambling for wood.

But then the skeptics crawled out.

"Hang on. Everyone started with the same rusty axe. Chopping a tree in this weather takes twenty, thirty minutes minimum. Where's she getting 'bulk' wood from? Sounds like a scam."

"InvincibleWarrior: Everybody chill. Look at that ID—sounds like a girl's handle. I'm a grown man, been busting my ass, and I've only got like ten logs saved up. My hands are shredded. Some girl with a food name claims she's got bulk? She's trying to run a game. Scam people out of their stuff."

"Iron_Tough: Agreed. Scammers made it through the apocalypse too, I guess. My advice: ignore her. Don't get played. How much wood can a woman chop anyway? Probably can't even lift the axe right, lol."

"Raw Meat x2

"White Bread x2

"Basic Torch Blueprint x1"

The blueprint was new. The description said it was required for crafting certain items. Seemed useful, so she'd traded for it.

Meanwhile, back in the channel, that "InvincibleWarrior" guy who'd been mocking her earlier seemed to notice that people were actually completing trades. His tone got bitter.

"InvincibleWarrior: Whatever. She probably got lucky with a high-tier crate. Let's see how long her stock lasts. Once the wood's gone, she'll be begging me to let her join my group."

The people who'd successfully traded with Riley popped into the channel to thank her. That might have been fine—except the thanks caused problems.

Since Riley had stopped trading for now, most people hadn't gotten anything. And the sky was darkening. Temperature outside the campfire radius was dropping fast. Gathering wood was getting harder. Trading was their only hope.

The ones who'd pinned everything on Riley, seeing her stop, started losing it.

"You said 'in bulk'! You did like five trades and quit. What are we supposed to do now?"

"Keep trading! My fire's almost out. You want us to go chop trees in the dark?"

"If you couldn't deliver, why'd you post? Showing off and then hiding."

Whether it was coordinated or just genuine rage, the number of people defending Riley in the channel shrank fast. Mostly it was attacks now. Accusations of being irresponsible. Using scarcity tactics. Playing games with people's lives.

Riley closed the channel. She couldn't be bothered.

In a life-or-death situation like this, people losing it was normal. If she actually had unlimited resources, she'd trade more. But she didn't. And back on Earth, nobody had ever handed her anything out of charity. She wasn't about to start playing savior now.

She looked down at the "Basic Torch Blueprint" in her inventory.

"Requirements: Wood x10, Kerosene, Scrap Steel x2" Note: Requires Level 2 Workbench to craft."

She leaned back against the crate again. Felt the weight of her stockpile pressing back against that lingering sense of unease.

In this world, your ID didn't matter. Your gender didn't matter either.

What mattered was who held the resources.

She looked at what she had left: 36 units of wood. Plus the steel, coal, and stone from trading.

Time to plan.

Upgrading to a Level 2 campfire required 55 wood. She had all the other materials. For the wood, she'd just have to use the handsaw tomorrow and gather a little more.

That settled, she pulled a few more logs from inventory and arranged them on top of the crate, making a small enclosed space. Curled up inside it, she watched the sky outside slowly darken to black.

Her eyes grew heavy. She drifted off.