The saying goes: beyond 100 steps, speed is king; within 100 steps, accuracy reigns supreme.

The knocking sounds in the stairwell jolted me awake from a much-needed sleep. "These guys really know how to pick their moments," I muttered, grabbing my sniper rifle from the pocket dimension. A thought struck me—this was the perfect opportunity to hone my shooting skills.

The saying goes: beyond 100 steps, speed is king; within 100 steps, accuracy reigns supreme. Tonight, both would be tested. Setting up on the balcony, I peered through the 8x scope. I could see the hairs in one of the fleeing intruder's nostrils with terrifying clarity. My finger rested lightly on the trigger as I lined up the shot.

Boom! A single, deafening gunshot broke the stillness of the night. The bullet struck its target squarely, and the goon collapsed in the snow. A thrill coursed through me. Am I a natural-born marksman?

The remaining members of the Heavenly United gang froze in horror. "Someone's shooting!" one of them yelled, before they scattered like frightened animals. I set my scope on another runner. This time, something strange happened—a surge of adrenaline heightened my senses, and the figure in my scope seemed to move impossibly slowly. I took the shot. Bang! Another headshot.

Grinning, I realized something. My abilities weren't confined to the pocket dimension; my reflexes had sharpened to superhuman levels. Testing this newfound talent, I fired five more times in rapid succession. Each bullet found its mark, leaving a trail of bodies in the snow.

By now, the neighbors had woken up, staring at me in awe. My extraordinary marksmanship had squashed any lingering doubts or petty thoughts they may have had about me. Their respect—and fear—solidified. To them, I was no longer just their leader; I was their guardian and protector.

The next morning, Joe prepared a steaming bowl of noodles for me. Her hands trembled slightly as she placed it on the table. "Was it you who fired the gun last night?" she asked nervously.

I couldn't help but smile. "The Heavenly United gang tried another sneak attack. I had to send them on a one-way trip to Heaven."

Her eyes sparkled with admiration. "Shangi, you're amazing."

Her words warmed me in a way I hadn't expected. Once, Joe had stayed with me merely for protection, but now she looked at me with genuine respect—and something more. Outwardly, I maintained a calm demeanor, but inside, I reveled in the transformation. How had I gone from being a spineless lackey in my past life to this? A leader. A warrior. A godlike figure to those around me.

Meanwhile, back at the Heavenly United gang's base, their morale was at an all-time low. The bodies of their fallen, including Wang Tien Fang's nephew, littered the snow. Their attempts to raid us had only resulted in losses. Brute force had once been their advantage, but now they faced something far deadlier—me.

Wang Tien Fang, his face grim, made a chilling decision. "Bring back the bodies," he ordered. "We'll need them to survive a little longer."

On my end, I continued patrolling the building, checking on the neighbors on duty. Their awe and gratitude were palpable after the previous night's events. They understood that with me at the helm, their chances of survival had soared. Still, complacency wasn't an option.

Mounting my snowmobile, I left the community once again. Uncle Yu had recently informed me of an army camp nearby. After ensuring he would keep the base secure in my absence, I headed out. From a distance, the Wolf Gang in Building 21 watched me with envious eyes. They had torn apart the underground garage searching for the snowmobile, but my little trick had left them empty-handed.

"If we had a snowmobile," Wang Chong growled, "we could sweep through the city, taking supplies and expanding our territory. We'd be unstoppable."

His comrade nodded. "Now's the time. Heroes rise in troubled times."

Bloodlust filled Wang Chong's gaze. "We must get our hands on that snowmobile."

Unaware of their schemes, I continued galloping through the snow. Before visiting the army camp, I scavenged the city for supplies. Most small shops were buried, leaving only the larger warehouses intact. I remembered the Walmart South Warehouse where I used to work. Though I'd emptied the largest storage unit before the apocalypse, smaller ones nearby likely still held supplies.

Arriving at the site, I broke through the skylight and slid down into the building. Luxury sports cars gleamed under the faint light—useless now, but perhaps worth something later. Searching further, I found several heavy-duty trucks and some small caches of food. Though not much remained, I scavenged what I could before moving on.

The next stop was a gas station. Snow had buried it so completely that only the signpost was visible. For a moment, frustration flickered through me—digging through meters of snow would be nearly impossible. Then it hit me. I had excavators stored in my alternate space.

Summoning one, I got to work. Thanks to my experience operating forklifts, maneuvering the excavator was second nature. After two hours of digging, the metallic clang of the gas station's roof echoed through the air. Clearing away the remaining snow, I pried open the basement door with a crowbar, taking care to discharge any static electricity first.

Inside, I found several large fuel tanks. A smile spread across my face. With these reserves, I'd never worry about running out of fuel again. After sealing the tanks to prevent leakage, I stored them in my alternate space.

It wasn't just the fuel that excited me—it was the realization that the resources buried under these snowdrifts were now essentially mine. With my snowmobile and excavators, I could traverse and access areas that others couldn't. The city was my oyster.

As night fell, I decided to rest at the gas station before heading to the army camp in the morning. Back at the residential area, however, trouble was brewing. A neighbor's child had developed a high fever, reaching 40°C. Their medicine box was empty, and despair began to creep in.

The neighborhood was strained, the chill cutting more deeply into the lives of the people. The medicine for the fever that Uncle Yu had given was a salvation for the ill child, and as the fever broke, relief was visible in the mother's face. Uncle Yu comfortingly patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. When Jangi comes back, things will improve for everyone."

Joe, being the observant one, reminded the mother to keep a close eye on her child. "Babies are vulnerable in the weather today. Check her condition."

While Joe and Uncle Yu continued on patrol, a shrill scream erupted in the tense silence. Auntie Lynn, crazed and knife in hand, attacked the mother and baby. "My grandson died! Your kids should die too!" she screamed.

The mother, acting on instinct, turned to protect her baby. In the commotion, the child fell from her arms, and Joe grabbed her just in time. The mother fell, blood seeping under her. Auntie Lynn's anger turned to Joe. "It's all your fault! You heartless people killed my little Wu. None of you will get away!"

Joe understood that reasoning would not work. Holding the child close, she ran for the stairs. Auntie Lynn, in a mad frenzy, reached out and caught Joe's ankle, pulling her down. "Especially you, Dr. Joe! You should die because you failed to save my grandson!" she exclaimed, knife held in her other hand.

As the blade was coming down, Uncle Yu burst in, kicking Auntie Lynn to the ground. The knife caught his left hand, causing a cut and bleeding, but relief was evident on his face—Joe was safe. He could not imagine having to confront Jangi if anything had been done to her.

Auntie Lynn, fully deranged now, struck out at whatever was in front of her, biting and scratching like a wild animal. "You coward, Yu Jiguang! My grandson died because of you! You should have killed Chin Jenha! All of you ought to die, and Jangi should die as well for failing to send medicine to my little Wu!

Uncle Yu lost his patience. "If Jangi had not killed Chin Jenha, none of us would have survived! You have no right to behave like a mad dog here!"

Joe moved forward, her voice firm in the midst of the turmoil. "Jangi did send you medicine, Auntie Lynn. But before I was able to deliver it, your beloved grandson had already been reduced to a pot of rice porridge—by you."

The words struck Auntie Lynn like a sledgehammer. "Impossible! Impossible!" she yelled, her madness building. Two of the neighbors came forward, their tone laced with contempt. "Today, we get to witness firsthand what 'loving someone too much to even put them in your mouth' actually is. You always professed to love your grandson, but this is the height of your love.

Auntie Lynn's howls became incoherent as the neighbors ridiculed her. "You've done so many wrongs. Let us bid you farewell.