Wasteland: I Awakened A Plant System-Chapter 58: Need Desperate Help

The gloating Survivor from earlier fell silent for a moment before typing again. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"Damn it... it’s a natural disaster, and you people still have the mood to act pitiful? So I’m the only clown here?"

Another message quickly followed.

"Where do you think they even get their supplies from? With such a huge population in this chat channel, there will always be some ’saints’ who can’t even feed themselves but still feel sorry for others."

"If they don’t pretend to be victims, how else would they get free supplies?"

It was obvious that this Survivor had been observing these so-called victims for a long time and had become very familiar with their tricks.

Then, suddenly, a different voice appeared.

"Are there really ’saints’? My whole body is frostbitten... Is there any kind person who can spare a set of clothes? I’m not pretending. If I’m lying, may my whole family die."

An image was attached.

Vikram noticed it immediately.

The frostbite looked real — swollen skin, patches of pale gray flesh, and trembling fingers that barely seemed able to hold the camera steady.

Yet no one paid attention.

Within seconds, the message was drowned beneath the relentless flood of new chat lines.

Watching this unfold, Vikram felt a complicated heaviness settle in his chest.

In the early days of the apocalypse, it had merely been a few ruthless opportunists using deception to cheat supplies from others. But as time passed, ordinary Survivors — exhausted, desperate, and unable to endure further losses — had begun to retaliate using the very same tactics.

Little by little, more people became twisted inside.

What truly terrified him was how this mentality spread like a virus.

If no one intervened, within half a year perhaps no one in the chat channel would believe a single word from anyone else.

Just then, an abrupt message cut through the chaos.

"The Survivor who posted the frostbite image — send me a private message. I can offer some help."

The sender’s name made Vikram’s eyes narrow slightly.

Aamir Khan.

The same man who still owed him a favor.

"No way... is Big Boss Aamir actually stepping in to help?"

Ever since Vikram had nudged him to share information openly in the regional channel, Aamir Khan’s reputation had soared.

Almost everyone who followed the chat channel now recognized his name. Even the three major Shelters showed him a certain level of respect when he spoke.

His intention this time was obvious — he didn’t want Survivors to fall deeper into a vicious cycle of distrust and exploitation.

Vikram let out a faint scoff.

"Does he really think he can solve this alone?"

"You might save one person... But what about ten? A hundred?"

In Vikram’s eyes, such acts were like drinking poison to quench thirst.

If this situation were ever to change, there had to be rules — clear, collective principles that every Survivor could follow. Otherwise, all individual efforts would eventually be swallowed by the chaos.

He shook his head lightly.

"Still... I’m not really in a position to say he’s wrong."

After all, it was easy to stand aside and criticize while others took action.

In a world like this, worrying about matters beyond one’s reach was pointless.

Building his own Shelter, strengthening his Territory — that was the only truly reliable path forward.

---

On a towering mountaintop, the cold wind howled without mercy.

From the summit, one could see a vast cave resting silently among the jagged rocks on the opposite mountainside.

In the darkness of night, everything appeared eerily still — until a faint silver-white light suddenly flickered from deep within the cave.

The glow briefly revealed the rough contours of the cave walls, and within that dim illumination stood a lonely tin house, barely holding its ground against the biting wind outside. Compared to the endless cold and darkness surrounding it, the fragile structure looked almost pitiful.

Firelight seeped faintly through the cracks of its metal door, hinting at human presence inside.

Yet despite the warm glow, the temperature within the house was scarcely any better than outside. The air remained painfully cold, stinging every exposed inch of skin.

On the narrow bed inside, two delicate young girls huddled tightly beneath a thin quilt, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.

Their clothes were light, their blankets worn and inadequate — a silent testament to the harshness of their current situation.

"How is it, Sister Divya... did anyone manage to spare some cold-proof supplies?"

Anjali, who usually brimmed with playful mischief, now clung obediently to Divya’s side. Her teeth chattered violently as she spoke, each breath turning into a faint white mist in the freezing air.

Divya’s only response was a slow, disappointed shake of her head.

"I’ve already asked Shalini, Radhika, and Geetanjali. Everyone’s supplies are running extremely low right now... no one has anything extra to give. Shalini even wanted to borrow cold-proof gear from us just a moment ago."

"Ah... then what are we supposed to do, Sister Divya? Are we really going to freeze to death here?"

Anjali buried her face deeper into Divya’s chest, her trembling growing more intense with every passing second.

"Wait a little longer," Divya murmured softly, trying to steady her own voice despite the cold biting into her bones. "Radhika said she might be able to trade for two down jackets. There’s still a chance."

Watching Anjali shiver so helplessly, a deep ache filled Divya’s eyes.

They were the same age.

Since childhood, the two had grown up side by side — laughing, fighting, making up again as if nothing had happened. Though they were not bound by blood, their bond had long since surpassed that of ordinary friendship. To Divya, Anjali was already like a younger sister she could never abandon.

Even with Kashif Ali’s earlier warning about the coming change in the extreme cold, the reality unfolding before them was far harsher than either of them had imagined.

Recently, Divya and Anjali had been desperately searching the trading market for cold-proof supplies.

But in the current situation, everyone was struggling for survival. No one was willing to part easily with life-saving items such as warm clothing or blankets.

The market was filled only with Survivors like them — people begging, bargaining, and anxiously searching for warmth. Sellers had almost completely disappeared.

Without special connections or powerful backing, obtaining such supplies was as difficult as reaching the heavens.

In two entire days, they had not even managed to trade for a single long-sleeved shirt.

It had not been easy to find a glimmer of hope through their group members, yet even that hope now seemed uncertain.

The freezing wind outside felt almost alive, seeping through every crack and gap of the tin Shelter as if determined to swallow the last bit of warmth within.

"Sister Divya... I’m so cold... I feel so sleepy..."

A faint, fragile murmur drifted out from beneath the quilt where Anjali lay curled up.

Divya’s heart tightened instantly. She hurriedly pulled her own head out from under the covers.

Her once fair and rosy face had turned pale as frost, completely drained of color.

She reached out and gently patted Anjali’s cheeks. The skin felt unnaturally stiff and cold beneath her fingers.

"Anju, wake up... don’t fall asleep. Hold on just a little longer. The supplies will arrive soon..."

She whispered close to Anjali’s ear, forcing steadiness into her trembling voice. Only after seeing the girl’s eyelids flutter open again did Divya finally release a shaky breath of relief.

Divya understood that although the extreme cold was worsening rapidly, the temperature had not yet reached the point of instantly freezing a person to death.

Anjali’s current state was largely due to her frail constitution. Since childhood, she had always been weaker and more prone to illness than others. Compared to ordinary Survivors, she was far less capable of enduring such brutal conditions.

Divya continued stroking her face gently, refusing to let her drift into sleep. At the same time, she waited anxiously for news from her group friend, Radhika.

Soon... A faint vibration came from the device on her left wrist.

Divya immediately opened the chat interface without hesitation.

[Radhika: Little Divya, I’m sorry... I’ve let you down. I only managed to trade for one down jacket.]

Radhika apologized first before slowly explaining what had happened.

[Radhika: It’s all because of that hateful seller. He originally agreed to sell me two jackets for five kilograms of meat, but at the last moment he suddenly doubled the price to ten kilograms.]

Her frustration was almost palpable even through the text.

[Radhika: The others in my Shelter refused to accept such an outrageous demand. In the end, we could only exchange for one jacket.]

She told Divya with a hint of helplessness in her tone.

[Divya: It’s okay, Radhika. Being able to trade for even one down jacket is already amazing. Look at Anju and me — we haven’t found a single cold-proof supply after searching for so many days.]

As she typed those words, Divya couldn’t help feeling a surge of self-reproach. If only she had gathered warm supplies earlier, perhaps they wouldn’t have been reduced to such a desperate situation now.

[Divya: Anyway, thank you, Radhika. Here are five kilograms of meat — please keep it for now. I’ll find a way to return the jacket to you as soon as possible.]

[Radhika: No need, Little Divya. Five kilograms of meat is nothing. You don’t have to return the jacket either. Put it on quickly. I’ll try to see if I can find another piece of clothing for you.]

"Eh..."

Divya still wanted to say something more, but Radhika had already gone offline.

Seeing Anjali shivering uncontrollably, she had no choice but to help her put on the down jacket first.

After wearing the rare-grade down jacket, Anjali’s body temperature slowly began to rise.

Before long, the unnatural paleness on her face faded slightly, and a faint hint of color returned.

Divya wiped the sweat from her forehead and checked carefully to make sure Anjali didn’t have a fever. Only then did she finally relax.

"Sister... come closer... this jacket is big... it can still fit another person..."

Anjali murmured weakly, her voice still trembling even though her condition had improved a little.

"It’s fine. I’m not that cold yet. If you’re sleepy, just go to sleep first."

Divya gently stroked her head and forced a reassuring smile.

Seeing that this little girl still had the heart to care about her even in such a miserable state, Divya felt a quiet warmth in her chest.

At least she hadn’t spoiled her kindness in vain.

Soon, wrapped tightly in the thick jacket and comforted by Divya’s presence, Anjali curled up and fell into a deep sleep.

Divya looked at her sleeping figure and let out a long breath of relief.

Although Anjali’s condition had improved, Divya herself could clearly feel the biting cold creeping into her bones from every direction.

She rubbed her arms repeatedly, trying to drive away the chill spreading through her body — but it was useless.

"It would be so nice... if we were still on Earth..."

Curling into herself, exhaustion and grievance surged together with the cold, pressing heavily on her fragile heart.

Just as she slowly closed her eyes, intending to rest for a moment...

A sudden communication alert echoed faintly in her mind, shattering the silence.

Divya opened her eyes again, a trace of unease rising within her.

She lifted her slightly red and swollen left hand.

Seeing the flashing avatar on the screen, she hesitated briefly... but finally pressed the accept button.

"Hello..."

---

At the same time, inside his Treehouse Shelter, Vikram had just closed the regional chat channel. After thinking for a moment, he sent a few messages to Divya — intending to show a bit of concern for his hardworking "employee."