It turned out everything was because of my wonderful elder sister.

Eleanor was three years older than me and worked in genetics research.

She claimed that, through big data studies, she had ample evidence proving I was a born troublemaker.

She told our mother that I had dissected frogs alive as a child.

Not only that, but she also alleged that any dead mice or cats found around our home were my doing.

She even presented numerous case studies she had found that stated that people like me were born without empathy but with high IQs. This explained my cold personality and good grades.

She warned that if left unchecked, I would eventually commit acts like murder and arson.

My mother believed her. She was wary of me in every way. Eleanor merely suggested I had an emotional disorder and needed to obey her and do good things.

Only after being given a second chance did I realize that these “good deeds” were whatever suited her.

It was precisely because of Eleanor’s words that even when I was tortured to the brink of death, my mother did not show a hint of sorrow. Instead, she seemed relieved.

The universe has a sense of justice. It gave me a second chance.

This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

…

I had claimed that I needed Eleanor’s help to find supplies as merely an excuse.

Why should I be the only one to suffer in this extreme heat?

The moment we stepped outside, a wave of heat rushed to meet us.

The scorching sensation made our instinct scream for us to turn back and dive into the air-conditioned house.

But I knew that I had to go out.

If I missed today, the temperatures would later climb even higher. The heat would eventually soar to a terrifying 140 °F.

Once we were outside, I ditched Eleanor and headed straight for my destination.

Sure, I used to be naive and trusted them blindly, but I was not a complete idiot.

The extreme weather, insane heat warnings, and anomalous magnetic field were all clear signs of an impending crisis.

So, I had been storing the majority of the stockpiled supplies in a rented basement, while leaving only a portion at home.

I did not have the chance to tell them about the stash in the past before they betrayed me.

With my supplies already covered, I did not need to scramble for more. Instead, I went to purchase a lithium-powered chainsaw.

It might not be as deadly as a blade in close combat, but it would make anyone think twice.

On top of that, I picked up several real self-defense items, such as knives and daggers, for emergencies.

Finally, I purchased a few sets of hidden cameras.

I gathered the items I needed and placed them in my backpack. My final stop was the basement.

While procuring supplies in the past, I had discovered that the basement was cooler than the air-conditioned rooms.

Given the current temperature of over 104 °F, I estimated the basement’s temperature would not exceed 86 °F.

Back then, when I was exhausted from hauling and storing supplies in the heat, I would simply rest down there.

The basement was originally a storage space for the landlord’s random junk.

Fortunately, during the cleanup, I had found a large inflatable pool.

I had always been frugal. After checking that the pool was intact, I had not thrown it away. The pool could serve as a water storage tank.

Once I made up my mind, I got the hose and started filling it up.

It was important to know that by the tenth day of the ongoing heatwave, water would become the most critical issue.

…

Only after completing all these preparations did I return home.

Seeing me return empty-handed, especially in contrast to Eleanor, who had just come home from outside looking thoroughly disheveled, my mother yelled at me. She blamed me for abandoning Eleanor outside.

I sneered and said, “Who’s supposed to be the older sister here, me or her?

“If a grown adult can’t manage to keep up and gets lost, that’s not on me. That’s just not being the sharpest tool in the shed.”

Eleanor shot me a glare. Just as she was about to argue, both my mother’s and my phones vibrated simultaneously.

It was a message from the group admin in the neighborhood residents’ group chat. The message announced the arrival of a relief supply shipment.

The reason our phones buzzed was that the group admin had just tagged my mom and me.

That was when I knew the real drama was about to begin.

In the past, when the group admin asked everyone to list their supplies, Eleanor would immediately post a complete inventory of our stockpile.

She reported twenty bags of all-purpose flour, weighing about 22 pounds per bag, and over 110 pounds of potatoes and cabbage. She also mentioned that our refrigerator was fully stocked with various meats.

She also included canned goods and other ready-made foods. Our home was not only fully equipped but had enough supplies to sustain us for two or three months without having to go outside.

Her message sent the group chat into a frenzy. Everyone expressed their envy.

Eleanor, ever the generous soul, declared that her door was open to anyone who fell short on supplies.

In an instant, all 500 of our neighbors in the group chat praised her for her beauty and kindness.

Eleanor’s post was what prompted her to give our supplies away.

It was also what marked us as an easy target.

Later, when supplies ran low, our home was the first one the neighbors looted.

At the moment, Eleanor was slumped on the sofa as she was exhausted by the heat.

Her phone had automatically shut down due to the extreme outdoor temperatures. She was completely unaware of the admin’s message.

I, however, had not been exposed to the high temperatures for too long. My phone was functioning normally.

She could not be bothered with me. She snatched the towel my mother was using to wipe her sweat and headed for the bathroom. “I’m hopping in a cold shower. I can’t take this heat.”

Meanwhile, I took out my phone and began to fill out the supply list.

I listed that we had 20 bags of all-purpose flour, each bag weighing roughly 22 pounds, followed by 10 cartons of instant macaroni and cheese.

…

I followed what Eleanor did in the past and unreservedly posted a list of supplies we currently had at home.

Just then, Eleanor finished showering and stepped out of the bathroom.

She then turned on her phone. She immediately saw the lengthy message I had shared in the neighborhood group chat.

A lot of people responded to my message as well.

[Holy moly!]

[That’s amazing!]

[Unit 1304 truly is incredible!]

Seeing this, Eleanor’s expression darkened. She hurled her phone onto the couch and began to berate me.

“Brielle, are you out of your mind?”

I finished reading the messages with a smile, then looked at her with feigned confusion. “What’s the problem?”

Eleanor let out a bitter laugh in anger. “What’s the problem?! Don’t you dare play dumb with me! Here I thought you were clever, yet you go and do something this stupid!

“You just told the whole neighborhood what supplies we’ve stockpiled! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?

“What happens when someone runs out of supplies and comes knocking? What if they don’t just ask but decide to break in and rob us?”

I asked her the very same thing in the past. But Eleanor only accused me of being selfish then.

She insisted the heatwave would not last much longer and even stated outright that she was okay with giving away our supplies for free.

She even convinced our mother, who then joined in to yell at me.

It turned out she was fully aware of all the risks. She only thought of them when someone else was the one making this stupid move.

I then threw her own words back at her and accused her of being selfish.

“Eleanor, weren’t you the one who always taught me to be helpful and honest? I’m just telling it like it is.

“Besides, everyone is good-natured. This heatwave won’t last much longer. You’re making it sound way more dangerous than it is.

“You always said only someone with a twisted mind assumes the worst in everyone. So, what does that say about you, Eleanor?”

Her face twisted in rage. She shot me a glare and muttered under her breath, “What I meant was it’s fine to be nice, but don’t be a complete pushover. Don’t take everything literally!”

She then joined the discussion in the group chat and ignored me.

By the end of the conversation, she had successfully taken credit for securing the supplies. She was showered with praises by the other neighbors in the group.

Eleanor was lost in the chorus of flattery from the group chat and seemed to be enjoying herself.

She had no idea the best part was yet to come.

…

Three days later, the temperature had soared from 114 °F to 126.14 °F.

Many people in the group chat were complaining that their air conditioners were no longer working properly. They were right.

Even when the air conditioners were on, the air they blew out felt hot.

Occasionally, due to voltage issues, the air conditioners would not even start. The only way to cool down was to take a shower.

I was in no hurry to leave. Instead, I was waiting for the right moment. I had even secretly installed pinhole cameras in hidden locations at night while they were all asleep.

Today was the day that I would set the trap.

Before long, the neighbors tagged me, Eleanor, and our mother. They said they were running low on supplies and asked for help. They even offered to pay.

Without waiting for Eleanor’s reply, I mimicked her past actions and did the same.

[Don’t even worry about paying! We’re all neighbors here. That’s what we’re here for. If you’re running low, just come by. Everyone needs a little help sometimes.

[Come on over. We have plenty to spare.]

As soon as the message was sent, numerous neighbors texted saying that their households were short of supplies. I agreed to help every one of them.

Eleanor stood up and yelled at me when she saw the message.

“Brielle, are you out of your mind? People ask, and you just hand over our supplies for free?!”

I continued to play innocent and asked her, “What are you talking about, Eleanor? You’re the one who said we had enough to spare. You said we should all stick together because people are struggling.

“Are you thinking of selling this stuff at a markup instead? Eleanor, everyone is suffering so much already. Are you really thinking of price gouging at this time? Isn’t that too heartless?”

While we were still arguing, there was a knock on the front door.

As soon as I opened it, the crowd outside all pushed their way in.

It was clear how scorching it was outside. They had only come from their own homes to mine. They were drenched from head to toe in a trip of mere minutes.

Eleanor was annoyed. But the moment she spotted a few good-looking male neighbors in the crowd, she jumped right in to help.

For every person who came seeking help, she gave away a bag of flour. Not only that, but she also distributed some of our stored vegetables and fruits.

Once the whole crowd had finally cleared out, I did an inventory. Just from that one round of giveaway, we were down by half on our supplies.

More people came later in succession. Eleanor generously continued the handout of the supplies like it was nothing. A few of the older folks called her a saint.

This was exactly how it went down last time. By the end of it, we were left with only enough supplies to last ten days.

…

When the temperature soared to 126.14 °F, we heard many knocks on the front door.

I knew the most important person had arrived.

Just as expected, I saw the “little boy” standing outside through the peephole.

He was crying and knocking on the door.

He claimed he had not eaten in days. He said his parents had gone out and never returned. He said he would die outside if no one took him in.

Yet, anyone who looked at his eyes could instantly tell he was not a child at all. He was a person with dwarfism and was disguised as a child.

I tried to stop it back then, but Eleanor mocked me.

She had opened the door and said to our mother, “See, Mom? This is just how she is. She’s cold to the bone! Whoever’s knocking is probably one of our neighbors. What if they really need help?”

She not only belittled me but also made the person with dwarfism resent me. In the end, he assaulted me.

Seeing the “little boy” outside, I turned to ask Eleanor, “Eleanor, there’s a little kid out there. He’s maybe seven or eight. Do you want to let him in?”