Execute on Arrival? I’ve Got a Hoarding Space

Dressed as a cowardly girl in male disguise, the original owner got scared to death by the news of execution. I, a post-apocalyptic hoarding lord, took over this mess. Grandma wants to hit Mom? One palm splits the table corner. Scumbag brother-in-law wants to hit Sis? One kick folds him like a shrimp. No carriage for the exiled family? Pull out a bulletproof off-road SUV from my space — call it the “new-style carriage.” On the exile road, while others chew hard bread, our family hotpots inside the car. Enemies coming? Mount an RPG by the window: “Don’t worry, just setting off some fireworks.” The supplies in my space? The biggest joker in this chaotic world.