Beneath the Ice, Temptation Waits

Day 15 of Apocalypse Online.

The world outside had officially gone mad.

Ethan had kept a watchful eye on the chaos during his downtime between training sessions. What he saw confirmed what he already knew deep in his gut—society had crumbled.

Looting for food had become as commonplace as breathing. And worse? The sheer breakdown of morality. Students and staff alike, as if sensing death creeping nearer with every frozen gust of wind, had begun indulging in whatever primal impulses remained buried beneath the skin of civilization.

There were rumors now—disturbing, vile whispers. Frozen couples were found dead in each other's arms. Assaults. Coercion. Human nature was peeling back its mask. The thin veneer of law and order, society's greatest illusion, had shattered in just over two weeks.

It was terrifying how easily it all unraveled.

Lin Yiwan had grown numb. So had Murong Xin'er. But Ethan still felt the rot in his stomach whenever he imagined what was happening beyond these walls. If you dragged some of these monsters out of the Annihilation-class scenarios and dropped them back into the real world, they'd rack up enough life sentences to stack to the moon.

That's what laws were for—not just to punish, but to civilize. To remind humanity it wasn't just animals with cellphones.

But here, in this version of the world? Justice didn't exist.

Punishment was a concept for the warm.

——

That night, inside the apartment, Ethan let out a low groan. Not of pain, but of mild indulgence as Murong Xin'er pressed her hands into his shoulders, working the tension from his frame.

Lin Yiwan didn't even glance their way. She had a cucumber face mask plastered to her face and was fully immersed in a drama on her phone.

Then—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The three sharp raps on the door echoed through the warm apartment.

Yiwan arched a brow, lazily setting down her phone. With practiced calm, she approached the door and peered through the peephole.

A girl stood outside. Arms crossed. Shivering. Pathetic in posture, like a lost lamb. Lin Yiwan blinked.

Su Qianran?

Of all people.

What was she doing here?

Hadn't she given up on Ethan?

Yiwan leaned closer, scanning the hallway carefully. No shadows lurking, no feet poking out from blind spots.

Alone? She came alone?

"Lamb to the slaughter," she muttered under her breath, amused.

Still, instincts honed by recent chaos made her double-check everything before cracking the door.

The moment the lock clicked, Su Qianran startled like a skittish deer, taking two uncertain steps backward.

Yiwan didn't speak at first. Her gaze combed the hallway again, then settled coldly on the girl.

Petite. Southern-featured. Slim waist, long legs. The kind of proportions that looked sculpted rather than inherited. Her face held that tearful softness that screamed, 'protect me.'

Even Yiwan had to admit—this one was dangerously Ethan's type.

And oddly enough… so was Murong Xin'er. Petite, soft-voiced. Though Xin'er wore platform boots like armor and carried herself like she ruled kingdoms.

No wonder Ethan kept attracting these types.

Yiwan sniffed the air and almost gagged.

God, she stinks.

"Come in before you freeze solid," she said casually, stepping aside.

Su Qianran stepped hesitantly through the door.

The moment she crossed the threshold, her body convulsed. Not from fear—from warmth.

Heat flooded her skin like a long-lost lover. Her wide eyes darted around the apartment. Fireplace roaring. AC humming.

Impossible.

"How... How do you still have power?" she whispered.

Yiwan slammed the door shut.

"You stink," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Bathrooms that way. Take a shower."

Su Qianran froze.

This was… fast.

Was she being serious?

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She clutched her coat tighter.

"Um… Lin-laoshi… where's Ethan?"

"Ahhh—!"

A cry of pleasure—unmistakable—burst from the bedroom.

Su Qianran blinked. What the hell?

Wasn't Lin Yiwan his girlfriend?

Then who was in there with him?

Her mind spun with unanswered questions, cheeks burning crimson.

"He's… occupied," Yiwan said with a smirk. "Go shower. He'll be done by the time you're out."

Qianran hesitated, but Yiwan's eyes narrowed with unspoken command. Under her roof, even Ethan's white moonlight had to play by her rules.

Reluctantly, Qianran nodded and slunk toward the bathroom like a defeated puppy.

"There are disposable towels in the cabinet. And you'll find one of my clean pajama sets there, too. Put it on after," Yiwan added.

The bathroom door clicked shut.

Fifteen minutes later, Qianran reemerged with wet hair, hugging her worn coat to her chest. She was clean now. Too clean. Her pale skin shimmered under the overhead lights.

Yiwan gave her a long, slow once-over.

"Lin… Lin-laoshi…" Qianran mumbled. Her voice was like dew.

Yiwan's smile didn't fade. But her next words struck like ice.

"Su Qianran, you don't want to starve to death, do you?"

Qianran's eyes widened.

What… did that mean?

Her lips trembled. "You still haven't told me… where Ethan is."

"He's busy," Yiwan said lazily, reclining back into the couch. "But more importantly, you still haven't answered my question."