On Christmas Eve, my uncle, Garrett Wayne, takes a sip from the fancy whiskey I bought. Then, he points at me while grinning.

"Well well well… I've been watching you since you were a kid, Flint. You were a bed-wetter when you were a little boy, and now that you're all grown up, you stay cooped in your parents' shop while running that social media account of yours. You don't have any skills at all.

"My Ronnie, on the other hand, has an amazing job that will continue paying him and keeping him around no matter how hard times get. Small businesses like your family's will definitely crumble as soon as the tiniest change happens in the global economy!"

All of my relatives roar in laughter at Garrett's quip. My cousin, Ronnie Wayne, pretends to be playing on his phone, though his grin has already become ear-splitting.

Mom and Dad can only laugh along as well even though deep down they are very uneasy and anxious.

I just gaze at Garrett coldly.

In six hours, the blizzard apocalypse will descend onto this world. At the same time, a zombie outbreak will occur across the globe.

In my previous life, Garrett, who had looked down on my family and me, didn't hesitate to push us into the upcoming zombie horde just to take over my parents' grocery store.

In this lifetime, I swear that I will never let him off the hook!

I'm about to pick up a plate of food and smash it onto Garrett's head when I hear a mechanical voice chiming in my head.

"Ding! You have been bound with the Rage System! You may talk back and retort to others to your liking in exchange for supplies. The more arrogant you sound, the better supplies you'll receive!"

As I look at Garrett's insufferable face, I let out a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, I'm not skilled at all. But I suddenly remember this funny little thing. Uncle Garrett, you claimed that you had gone on a business trip to Brimstone eight years ago. But the truth is, you got arrested by the vice squad, right?

"Does Aunt Cassia know about this?"

The flush on my uncle, Garrett Wayne's face instantly vanished as he slapped his spoon onto the table with a sharp clack.

I turned to my aunt, Cassia Adams, and offered her a half-smile as she'd been about to help herself to some food.

"Back then, it was a 5,000 dollar fine, plus five days in detention.

"Uncle Garrett dared not ask you for money, so he lied to my dad, said he needed urgent cash for the inventory, and borrowed 5,000 dollars to pay the fine.

"Oh, and you still haven't paid that back, have you?"

Cassia slammed her spoon onto the table with a loud bang before whipping around and locking her eyes on Garrett.

"Garrett! When you went to Brimstone eight years ago, you said you were in the factory with no signal and even swore on it that you weren't lying!

"But it turns out you were doing something so shameful! I wondered why you came home missing two pairs of underwear!"

Garrett immediately sobered up. He slammed the table, jumped to his feet, and pointed at me with a roar. "Bullshit! What nonsense are you spouting, you brat?

"You read trash novels in middle school, slept through class in high school, and now you're making things up about your elders on Christmas Eve!"

"Believe it or not, I'll knock your teeth out for that nasty character of yours!"

It was the same old, boring lines again. Putting aside the fact that reading novels barely had anything to do with character, Garrett had jumped at every chance to pick on me since I was a kid.

When I was younger, I used to wonder why he was so harsh to me, and if I really was a bad kid. But later, I learned that he resented the fact that, though he was the eldest son, Grandpa had only paid for Dad's education.

In other words, he couldn't accept that he wasn't smart enough to stay in school and felt bitter, so he decided to take it out on me. That was really classy of him to pick on a kid just to feel better about himself.

I pulled out my phone and calmly scrolled through it. "Making things up? I have a screenshot of the electronic receipt from back then. It's a little blurry, but the name 'Garrett Wayne' is clear as day. Would you like to take a look?

"Oh, and I heard that the lady was 20 years younger than you, Uncle Garrett. You're quite the vibrant old man, aren't you?"

I never had a screenshot. Everything I'd said was based on a drunken boast Garrett had let slip in my past life, but all it took was a bluff to deal with a guilty man like him.

"Milton Wayne, is this how you raised your son to run his mouth at such a young age? Has he no shame?"

"You're the one with no shame!" Cassia's shout cut right through his attempt to shift the topic.

"You're old enough to be her father, and yet I can't believe you did that! Jerk! I'll kill you!"

She flipped the bowl of scalding hot soup right in front of her, drenching the chicken and mushrooms all over his face and body.

"It's boiling! You're crazy!"

Garrett hopped onto his feet and screamed with a mushroom stuck to his face, looking like a pathetic, ridiculous clown.

A chime came from the system.

"Uncle Garrett's extreme rage detected! Aunt Cassia's resentment points level off the charts! +200 rage points!

"Rewards include an apocalypse safehouse upgrade card with instant door and window reinforcement unlocked. 100 fast food family meals added to the system inventory!"

That was so generous. With the supplies, I could keep my parents safe for a long time, even if the apocalypse hit.

Crossing my legs, I leaned back and checked my loot in the inventory while enjoying the chaos in the living room.

Cassia had left three bloody scratch marks on Garrett's face, while my cousin, Ronnie Wayne, cursed as he tried to break up the fight, only to end up getting splashed with grease himself. It was such a beautiful sight.

Ten minutes later, their family of three stood at the door, looking like a total wreck.

Covering his face, Garrett glared at my parents and me. "Well, well. Look at the son you've raised, Milton. He throws filth at his elders on Christmas Eve!"

Dad was about to explain, but I pressed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Don't say that, Uncle Garrett. I'm just doing a kind deed by helping Aunt Cassia see what kind of man she married. I'm sure great things and luck's coming my way for what I've done."

Garrett turned to Dad and snarled. "What a sharp-tongued brat!

"We're cutting ties right here and now, Milton! From now on, I won't lift a finger to help, even if your family starves and begs on their knees.

"Ronnie, let's go."

Ronnie disgustedly brushed at the wet stains on his clothes and shot me a look of pure disdain.

"Ugh. I never wanted to come to this dump in the first place. It reeks of poverty.

"Let's go, Dad. When I land a steady government job, I'll live it up while they're stuck regretting everything in this shabby little grocery store."

I watched them walk off and whistled. "Take care, Uncle Garrett!

"Oh, and even if you've severed ties, remember to pay back that 5,000 dollars you owe my dad, or I'll post the whole story in the family group chat and pin it to the top!"

Garrett stumbled and nearly face-planted on the pavement. Then, he rushed off without looking back.

There was a chime before the system said, "Uncle Garrett's blood pressure is spiking! +200 rage points.

"Rewards include 20 pounds of fresh premium beef!"

20 pounds? It wasn't a massive haul, but in an apocalypse where fresh produce and meat weren't available, it would go a long way.

While I was going through the inventory in my mind, my parents looked at the mess on the floor and sighed. "He's still your uncle, Flint. After this, we won't even be family anymore."

After tonight, there would only be the living and the dead. Family wouldn't even mean a thing again.

I dropped my smile, and my gaze turned sharp. "We're better off without a family like that, Mom.

"I have some insider information that the freezing doomsday is going to hit tonight. From now on, we're locking down the grocery store and letting no one in, no matter who it is."

Mom and Dad were skeptical, but I'd been the one calling the shots in the house for years now, and the conviction in my voice was hard to argue with. In the end, they nodded.

While they cleaned up, I walked up to the entrance of the grocery store and muttered to myself, "Use the safehouse upgrade card."

The ordinary rolling shutter immediately transformed into a titanium-alloy explosion-proof door. Every window silently shifted into bulletproof glass, and a top-tier thermal insulation layer integrated itself into the walls.

When everything was set up, I checked the clock on the wall and noticed that it was 12:00 am.

The lively carolling and chiming of bells had suddenly stopped. In its place was the bone-chilling, howling wind.

In just ten minutes, the temperature had plummeted from 23 to -58 degrees Fahrenheit and still showed no signs of stopping. Heavy snow fell in thick sheets, carrying a strange, deadly virus within them.

In my past life, Garrett's family had stayed after dinner to play poker cards and narrowly avoided the freezing cold outside. They'd seized my parents' warm master bedroom and forced them to squeeze into my room.

But in this life, they were still on the road after the Christmas Eve fallout.

…

I sat in the grocery store, which was maintained at a steady 78.8 degrees Fahrenheit, holding a roasted chicken drumstick I'd pulled from my system inventory.

While I took a large bite, Mom and Dad were wrapped in blankets, visibly shaken as they looked out at the terrifying blizzard.

"Good thing we listened to you and stayed in. What's going on with the weather these days?"

That was when the family group chat blew up with notifications.

Garrett: "Milton! My car broke down halfway home, and we're freezing out here. Where's your delivery truck? Come pick us up right now!"

Ronnie: "Uncle Milton, my hands are numbing from the cold, so hurry up! If you're not coming, we're calling the police!"

As I listened to Garrett's shivering voice over the sound of the howling wind, I let out a cold sneer.

Oh? Weren't we supposed to have cut ties? Now that things got tough, they came crawling back to us for help.

Did they think we were that pathetic? It was bad enough that we had to endure his arrogance, so why should we risk our lives to save them in such terrible weather?

I pressed on the voice message button and replied in a lazy, bored tone, "Oh, bad timing, Uncle Garrett. I never got my driver's license, and Dad's been drinking, so he can't drive either."

"Here's an idea, Uncle Garrett. Maybe you and Ronnie ought to wear those steady paychecks as hats. They're clearly thicker than your skulls and might keep off the wind.

"Or Uncle Garrett, why don't you try doing a few more squats? I recall you had a pretty good form doing those back when you were locked up."

The group chat went deathly silent.

A few seconds later, Garrett sent a voice clip that was nothing but a string of curses, though his voice grew noticeably weaker.

With a chime, the system's voice echoed in my mind. "Uncle Garrett's family is raging helplessly in the freezing wind. Physical and mental trauma detected. +200 rage points!

"Congratulations, Flint. Rewards include 50 infinite-charge hand warmers and elite combat mastery."

A surge of warmth spread through my body, and I could feel my muscles rippling with power. I clenched my fist and threw a quick punch that cut through the air with a sharp gust of wind.

Perfect.

The first night of the apocalypse was off to a peaceful start, but I couldn't let my guard down because something even more terrifying would come after the freezing doomsday—the zombie outbreak.

People who froze to death on the side of the road would soon stand back up with twisted limbs and bite anything they saw.

Garrett's family was surprisingly lucky. They managed to ditch the car and retreat to their high-end apartment complex, but the water, power, and gas were cut. All that fancy interior design meant nothing against -112 degrees Fahrenheit.

With no food stockpiled, they probably had to gnaw on their expensive leather couch.

Driven mad by hunger, Ronnie kept arguing with Garrett until they nearly came to blows.

Finally, hunger won out over fear and pride, so Garrett led a small group of neighbors he'd rallied and showed up at the front of the grocery store.

Heavy pounding shook the door as the neighbors banged on it.

"Open up, Milton! It's me, Garrett!" Garrett's voice was hoarse and desperate.

"The power's out at our place, the heating's gone, and even the windows are freezing and cracking! Let us warm up! We're all starving out here!

"We're family, Milton. You can't just stand by and let us die!"

When Mom and Dad heard the voices, they instinctively moved to open the door, but I stopped them. "Check the camera, Dad."

On the security screen, Garrett was clutching a crowbar, while the men behind him were armed with steel pipes. They weren't here to take shelter; they were here to loot.

More deafening bangs sounded when someone started hacking at the door with an ax.

Dad broke into a cold sweat from panic. "What do we do, Flint? There's a whole mob out there; if they actually break in…"

Mom was already in tears. "Should we just give them some food?"

I looked at Garrett's treacherous face on the screen and let out a cold laugh.

In my past life, he'd used this exact guilt-tripping trick to force my parents into opening the door and letting the wolves right into the fold. But unfortunately for him, I was not about to fall for the same trick.

I flipped the switch for the external loudspeaker by the door.

"Well, well, if it isn't Uncle Garrett, the man with the recession-proof paycheck!

"What happened? Did that steady paycheck of yours fail to put food on the table, so you came a long way just to beg for scraps at my doorstep?"

Behind the door, Garrett froze for a second, then snapped in anger. "Cut the sarcasm and open the door, Flint. I'm your uncle!"

"That's right! Don't be so heartless, kid. Share the food with everyone!"

As more voices joined, I smiled and paused before saying, "Relax, everyone. I'm fine if you want food, but Uncle Garrett, we play by my rules now that we're in the middle of an apocalypse."

"What rules?" Garrett barked.

"Give me five million dollars, or you can start calling me 'boss.'"

A few of the neighbors behind him couldn't help but let out a series of snorts and muffled laughs.

Garrett's face turned dark red, and his body was shaking with rage.

That was when they heard the faint, guttural moans of zombies in the distance. Their shouting and commotion had drawn the zombies in.

Fighting zombies in the open was a death sentence, so Garrett gritted his teeth and stared into the camera. Then, he forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"B-Boss!"