Chapter 8

"5,000 dollars? That's way too much!" Gordon exclaimed. "We don't need that much. Tomatoes only sell for 30 cents per pound; even in the city, they're only 80 cents." Lucy knew vegetables were cheap, but she hadn't expected them to be this inexpensive. Gordon clearly doubted her words. Selling vegetables usually earned him 2,000 to 3,000 dollars at best—sometimes only 1,000 or 2,000. From seedling to ripening, tomatoes would take two to three months to grow and bear fruit. "How much more do we have besides tomatoes for the next three months?" Lucy asked. Gordon replied, "We've planted some watermelons, but they won't be ready for another month." Their family mainly grew seasonal fruits, so the vegetable prices never went up. If they had a greenhouse, they could speed up cultivation and plant out-of-season produce, which would then sell for higher prices. Hearing about the low price of cabbages, Lucy began to think. Cabbage grew quickly, taking only about a month to harvest. "Once this batch of tomatoes is ready, let's switch to cabbages!" "Cabbages? No way! You can't sell them for a good price right now," Gordon objected. "It's better to plant them in November." November brought cold weather, and people liked to stockpile cabbage for the winter. "Dad, my client specifically requested cabbages," Lucy said firmly. "Let's plant them—don't worry. We won't lose money!" "Lucy, you don't understand. The market price for cabbage right now is awful." Gordon's phone buzzed with a notification—"You have received 2,000 dollars from Lucy." His hands trembled as he stared at the screen. She had just sent him 7,000 dollars—almost as much as what he made selling vegetables in half a year. Farmers usually earned about ten thousand dollars annually from selling vegetables, and every bit of that was hard-earned money. "Dad, trust me. Let's plant cabbages, okay?" "Fine! We'll do it. I'll head out and buy cabbage seeds right away!" he said, taking action immediately. He felt ready to take on anything with the money he had just received. After setting aside some cash for seeds, he transferred the rest to Sharon. "Why are you suddenly giving me so much money? Were you hiding a stash from me?" Sharon asked, suspicious. "It's from Lucy! She sold the tomatoes and even got an advance for the cabbages we'll plant next month!" he explained happily. "I'll keep a little for the seeds and start planting the cabbages immediately," he added. Gordon was thrilled—this was the most he had ever made selling vegetables. All the hard work had finally paid off. Growing crops was exhausting, but selling them was the real headache. He often had to wake up at 4:00 am or 5:00 am, ride a small trike to the county, and spend the entire day selling. It was tough work for just him and Sharon. Now that they didn't need to sell the tomatoes themselves, it would save them a lot of effort. Meanwhile, Lucy thought she needed to rent a warehouse in the county to cover her tracks. Once the vegetables were delivered there, she could quietly store them in her pocket space. … In the post-apocalyptic world, Hans noticed that the resources in his pocket space had diminished by half, mainly jewelry. The remaining supplies consisted of food and water Lucy had collected for him. He felt his pocket space had expanded slightly, confirming that the Plutings were effective. He placed two more Plutings inside for Lucy to absorb later. Hans and Leo were making their way toward the base. "Hey, I found a gold ring!" Leo exclaimed, triumphantly holding up a ring he had pried from a skeletal hand. If Lucy had known where their gold came from, she might have developed a serious psychological aversion. Their base wasn't far, but they had to travel on foot. Hans thought that once his pocket space grew large enough to hold a car, they would finally have proper transportation again. Since the apocalypse, most vehicles had been rendered useless, and a chemical rainstorm had ruined fuel supplies. Some gas stations had burned for over two weeks straight. When they finally arrived at the base, it was in a sorry state—dirty, disorganized, and filled with makeshift shacks. There wasn't even a proper wall around it. Originally a military base, it had been converted for civilian use. "Hans, Leo, you're back!" A man in tattered clothes greeted them, his eyes bloodshot from worry. "Hans, several children in the base have high fevers. We're out of antipyretics; if we don't find some soon, they won't make it." His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes red-rimmed. One of the sick children was his younger brother. "We have antipyretics!" Hans replied. In this city, most pharmacies had been looted, and whatever drugs remained had long since expired. Hans took a few bottles of antipyretics from his pocket space. "Give these to the kids. If they're not enough, I'll think of something else." "Thank goodness! We've got medicine! Hans brought back medicine! The kids are saved!" the man shouted excitedly. Hearing about the sick children, Leo ran toward the shelters, with Hans following closely behind. The shelter consisted of military tents and inside sat a gaunt woman—Leo's wife, Nyla Jennings. Though only in her 20s, she looked far older, with sallow skin and a weary expression. Leo had married young, while Hans remained single. "Where's the kid? How is he?" Leo asked anxiously. Nyla gently cradled a frail child. Though two years old, he looked no older than one due to severe malnutrition. In front of them was a small pot containing a blackened, unidentifiable paste—leaves boiled from nearby trees. Its fruit was sour and mildly toxic. While adults might tolerate small amounts—at most, suffering from an upset stomach—it was dangerous for children and could cause serious harm. "They haven't eaten in two days! There's nothing left!" Nyla cried, her voice hoarse and her cracked lips trembling. "We've got food!" Leo exclaimed, turning to Hans with pleading eyes. Hans retrieved some food from his pocket space, including a canister of soy milk powder. "Here's some soy milk powder. You can make it for the kid," he said. Nyla's eyes lit up with hope at the sight of food. Finally, her son would have something to eat. "Rory, don't sleep! Daddy found food for you!" Leo quickly found an empty bottle, poured in mineral water, and mixed it with the soy milk powder. Nyla's hands trembled as she took the bottle and carefully fed it to her son. Rory Wright, barely conscious, weakly opened his eyes. Despite his feebleness, the instinct to survive made him latch onto the bottle and drink. After a while, he finished half the bottle. "Not too much at once," Leo advised. "He's been starving for too long. Small amounts, more frequently." "There are still some instant noodles here," Hans said. "Leo, hurry up and cook them for Nyla." Food had become scarce lately; even the nearby toxic plants had been harvested and boiled for consumption. However, these mutated plants were all poisonous. Many people already had toxins accumulating in their bodies, and if they kept eating them, it wouldn't be long before their health would deteriorate, possibly to the point of death. "I'm going to check on the other kids and see if we have enough medicine." Leo quickly started a fire to cook the noodles, but the enticing aroma soon attracted the attention of others nearby.