The Cataclysm.

Three hundred kilometers away from District Nine's left, in the ungoverned area awaiting planning, on a nameless street, a 23-year-old young man, dressed in a dirty shirt, walked quickly with his head lowered.

The street was dilapidated and ugly. The underground sewage system had collapsed long ago, and outdoor toilets with a foul smell were scattered along, connected to rows of shops. The whole area was poorly lit, and now and then, a group of people could be seen standing around, mostly women, with few men.

The young man, walking briskly and without looking around, was named Kris. He was 1.82 meters tall, with a strong build. Today he was unemployed and planned to buy an official resident identity for District Nine, marking the first step of his plan.

Kris had originally been handsome, with clear and well-defined features. He was the kind of sunshine-like, good-looking guy. However, now he looked somewhat shabby, with an unshaved beard, slightly long hair sticking together, and clothes stained with oil and dirt. He was unnoticeable among the crowd.

As he walked quickly, Kris glanced up at the intersection, preparing to return to his residence.

"Hey, young man, hey..." A crisp voice called out, and a woman, dressed in a faded dress and wrapped in a coat, pulled at Kris as he passed by.

Kris was startled and looked back, "What is it?"

"Thirty dollars." The woman raised three slender fingers and glanced back at the old shop house behind her, speaking softly, "Let's go there."

"Heh, can't afford to play." Kris laughed and continued walking.

"Wait," the woman reached out and pulled him again, "Twenty-five, will twenty-five work?"

Kris turned around, looked her over, paused for a moment, then shook his head, "I have no money."

"Not interested in me? There's someone inside."

"I really don't have any money." Kris shook his arm, "Let go of me, I'm in a hurry to go home."

The woman bit her red lip, her small hand tightly gripping Kris. After a long silence, she quietly added, "Two bowls of rice will do, but you'll have to use my bowls."

Kris frowned, "I told you I don't have any. Move!"

The woman still didn't let go, and looked toward the group of seven or eight-year-old children standing by the shop house. "…I have three children. If I don't have any business tonight, I can't feed them... Young man, please, help me just this once, even a bowl of rice will do. I'll kneel for you."

Kris looked at the woman coldly, "How long has the world been like this? In this kind of environment, if you can't feed them, why have children?"

The woman was stunned.

Kris pulled his arm away forcefully, clutching his shirt tightly, and continued forward.

The woman stood still for a moment before quickly running back to the shop house, gasping as she said, "That man has it, he has it. I saw the things inside his shirt when I pulled at him."

…

About half an hour later.

Kris returned to a dilapidated six-story building, climbed the old and dusty stairs, and entered his home on the fifth floor.

This building was only inhabited by Kris and his friend Xiao Zhuang. The outer walls had collapsed in many places and would have been deemed a dangerous building if it were still before the disaster. But in this era, the concept of a home only mattered in terms of where you were, not what kind of place you lived in. Kris had chosen this place because it had no electricity and no water supply, so he didn't have to bear any costly living expenses.

Inside, the room was simple: a bed, two broken cabinets, no entertainment facilities, and the only book was a worn-out military hobby magazine with a publication date of 2019.

After entering the room, Kris took off his dirty coat and pulled out a worn canvas bag from his shirt. He carefully walked over to the bed, picked up a broken bowl, and began scooping out the tempting white rice. He then shouted, "Xiao Zhuang, is the food ready?"

"Not yet, I just came back," a voice from inside the room answered. A young man, about the same age as Kris, walked out. He had dark skin and a resolute face.

"Clack clack clack!"

Just as Kris was about to talk to Xiao Zhuang, a loud sound of footsteps suddenly echoed from downstairs. He froze, quickly hid the bag and bowl in the cabinet, and hurried to the door, which only had a shabby wooden board.

In less than ten seconds, a group of children under ten, followed by dozens of men and women, appeared on the stairs.

The stairs were outdoors, cracked with cement, and rusted iron railings. With so many people rushing up quickly, the dilapidated building seemed like it might collapse at any moment.

Kris immediately raised his hand and shouted, "Don't rush up like this, damn it, the stairs will collapse!"

"Uncle, I'm hungry."

"Uncle, I want to eat..."

"…!"

Each child held a small bowl, standing on the stairs, looking at Kris with dirty eyes.

"Uncle is also hungry. Did you eat dinner yet? If not, let's eat together," Kris said with a playful smile.

The children's eyes were pure, their thoughts simple, but the adults behind them had shed all pretenses. One muscular man, with a shaved head, yelled, "Give us food, or we won't let you go down."

"I don't have any food," Kris waved his hand and replied, "We're all starving here in the unplanned zone, it's not easy for any of us. If I had some, I wouldn't just protect you, I'd at least share..."

"Stop talking, we saw you hiding food in your shirt," the muscular man shouted again. "Hurry up, give us half, and we'll leave."

"No," Kris shook his head.

"Go into his room." The muscular man shouted in a deep voice.

"Uncle, give me some food."

"Give me some food."

"…!"

The crowd surged forward, shaking the stairs that hung on the outside of the building, as if it could collapse at any moment.

Kris, looking at the chaotic crowd, suddenly felt his eyes go red. He raised his right leg and pulled a knife from his dirty pants leg, pointing it at the crowd, "Damn it, do you think I’m alone? Who the hell is afraid of death here? I’ve got food, and if you break my knife, I’ll give it to you."

The crowd hesitated for a moment, then the muscular man coldly shouted, "The children are in the front, you can stab them all first."

"I'll be damned...!" Kris was speechless.

"Go inside, take the food." The muscular man shouted again.

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd rushed forward, and the children quickly surrounded Kris, shouting, "Uncle, give me some food."

"Uncle, I haven’t eaten in days."

"Get lost!" Kris shouted.