Chapter 3

There are seven days left until the end of the world.

Aunt Martha and her family were living in the villa with complete ease, showing no awareness whatsoever of being guests.

The trouble finally broke out on the afternoon of the fifth day of the countdown.

I was checking the filters on my gas mask in the living room when Cooper was lying at my feet, gnawing on a rubber bone. Carl came down from the second floor, glanced at Cooper, and then exaggeratedly sneezed several times.

“Damn it, Ian. Can you get that hairy beast out to the doghouse?” Carl said with disgust. “I’m severely allergic to dog hair, and this place is suffocating.”

Aunt Martha immediately poked her head out of the kitchen to chime in, "Yes, Ian, don't you have a doghouse in your yard? Let it go outside. People are more important than dogs, don't you think?"

In my previous life, the weak me would have taken the dog outside with a face full of apology and put it in its extremely stuffy doghouse. But this time, I didn't even lift an eyelid.

“The last time you tried to steal a sip of Louis XIII from my wine cabinet, it was lying at your feet, and you didn’t sneeze once then.” I stood up, looking down at them, my tone icy. “Listen carefully, Cooper is the real owner of this house, and you are just guests. If anyone feels suffocated, the door is unlocked, and you can get out anytime.”

The living room fell into a deathly silence.

Faced with the choice between dignity and the 24/7 free air conditioning, they spinelessly shut their mouths and slunk back to their rooms.

Meanwhile, just like the countdown on a calendar, the temperature outside the window began to rise at an extremely abnormal rate day by day.

On the second day of the countdown, the air outside the window was distorted like ripples by the scorching heat.

It's time to back out.

I tossed a colorful brochure onto the coffee table, offering the bait: "I'm sorry about what happened last time. I shouldn't have argued with you guys because of Cooper. To express my apology, I've also signed you up for that summer trip to the Rocky Mountains. It's an all-inclusive, high-end tour with five-star hotels."

Seeing their eyes light up with greed in an instant, I knew the fish had taken the bait.

“However, there’s one thing,” I tapped the table, pretending to be a little troubled, “the travel agency said that because it involves real-name registration for high-end hotels and insurance confirmation, all accompanying persons must personally go to the downtown branch to sign a form.”

Half an hour later, the family of three drove happily to the city center.

As the car disappeared from sight, I quickly threw the last few canvas bags filled with special supplies into the pickup truck bed.

That travel agency didn't have any high-end tours at all; I just needed an excuse to get rid of them.

I had just put the leash on Cooper when my phone suddenly started vibrating like crazy.

"Ian! Our names aren't even on the label!" Uncle Thomas's roar, accompanied by the loud smashing of things, exploded through the receiver. "Carl smashed their computers and broke the manager's nose! The police are here, you bring money to the station right now to bail us out! Hey? Ian! Did you hear me?!"

Looking at the blinding sun outside, a cold smile crept onto my lips: "Don't worry, Uncle, I'll bring the lawyer over right away."

After hanging up the phone, I threw it directly into the trash can.

My intention was just to get rid of them, but I didn't expect this unexpected surprise. No, I should have expected it. Given their personalities, they would definitely cause a scene at the travel agency, especially in this kind of weather that makes people even more irritable.

My aunt's family will have to stay in the police station for at least another night. I've already confirmed with the buyer that they will come to our door with the official property title certificate first thing tomorrow morning.

The aunt's family, having just been released from detention, are destined to face a good show.

The next morning, which was the last day of the doomsday countdown.

Inside a temperature-controlled fortress more than ten meters underground in the industrial zone, the entire air circulation system emitted a barely perceptible white noise. I leaned back in my gaming chair, masturbating with my Cooper, staring coldly at the monitor screen in front of me—I had left a miniature camera on the porch of my old house.

At eight o'clock in the morning, a heavy black SUV was parked in the villa driveway. It belonged to the Davis family, the new owners of the house.

Moving in this sweltering, almost boiling weather is obviously illogical, but with the abnormally high temperatures rising day after day, Davis, a middle-aged man with a strong sense of crisis, clearly sensed that something was wrong .

He didn't want his wife and daughter to stay in an apartment that was easily broken into, so he decisively packed up overnight and moved into this upscale detached house before the situation completely spiraled out of control. I watched as the family of three quickly moved their belongings into the house and locked the door tightly.

The show began as scheduled at 2 p.m.

Thomas's uncle and his family appeared on the surveillance footage like dehydrated, stray dogs, clearly having gritted their teeth and paid a huge bail to crawl out of the detention center.

Sweating profusely, Carl stormed up the porch and pounded on the solid wood door, while Aunt Martha hysterically rang the doorbell, trying to get the pretending "me" to come out.

"Woof!" Cooper, who was lying on my lap, suddenly stood up, his fur standing on end. "They want to come in!"

"It's okay, buddy, just watch their performance." I handed it a beef jerky and leaned back lazily in my chair.

The door remained tightly shut. Karl, whose rationality had been completely evaporated by the high temperature, suddenly turned around after a fit of rage and insults, picked up a heavy landscaping stone from the garden, raised it high, and smashed it down on the living room's floor-to-ceiling glass with a frenzied rage!

"Splash—!"

The loud crash of shattering glass was particularly jarring in the stifling silence.

However, before Carl could reach out to pull back the heavy blackout curtains, the solid wood front door was suddenly yanked open from the inside.

Davis, his face grim and his arm muscles bulging, stood like a menacing figure in the shadows of the porch, holding a fully loaded Remington shotgun.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The furious roar instantly tore through the oppressive heat.