Chapter Four

The refrigeration unit in the refrigerated truck emitted a dull hum, like a low-frequency drumbeat, pounding against my already hardened will. This was my final return from the slaughterhouse; the truck bed was piled high with meticulously vacuum-packed beef, enough to last a long time in my cold storage even in the event of a power outage.

This was the last trip. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles pale from the strain. I mentally calculated: this meat, combined with the provisions underground, would be enough to sustain two adults comfortably for several years. I didn't need to be a survivor of the apocalypse; I wanted to be its ruler.

However, as the truck reached the gas station on the way out of the city, a striking red Porsche Cayenne blocked my path.

The door opened, and Valerie Chen, dressed in a sharp business suit, stepped out of the driver's seat. Even in the sweltering afternoon heat, her posture remained upright; the aura of a Silicon Valley businesswoman hadn't yet faded.

I frowned, pushed open the car door, and jumped out, my voice icy: "You were following me?"

Valerie crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping over my massive refrigerated truck, her eyes sharp and almost scrutinizing: "Ethan, as a rational businessman, your recent behavior isn't just crazy, it's downright abnormal. From selling the company for a pittance, to giving the villa to that woman who treated you like a fool, to this dilapidated cabin in the mountains, and these tons of purchased supplies..."

With each detail, her tone grew heavier: "I've been following you for four days. Emily is now posting pictures of your villa on Instagram, smug and self-satisfied, the whole world knows she's the 'winner' of this marriage."

I looked at her, completely unmoved, even finding it amusing. For these elites who only measure the world with worldly logic, the collapse of the world is a dimension beyond their comprehension. I shrugged indifferently: "Since you know I'm crazy, why are you blocking my way?"

I glanced at my watch. Five o'clock in the afternoon. Seven hours until that moment.

Memories of my past life flashed uncontrollably through my mind: Valerie Chen, the woman who once held sway in Silicon Valley, was shoved like a bag of trash into a horde of corpses in her apartment hallway by her husband and his mistress on the third day after the apocalypse began. That was the end of her life.

Looking into those eyes that had once been so shrewd and calculating in the business world, a wicked urge to mock her rose within me. I pointed towards the fortress hidden in the shadows of the mountains, a sinister glint in my eyes: "Want to come with me and see the truth? If this really is your end of the world... or the most important gamble of your life, come with me, you might still have a chance; if you're scared, go home and wait for your last peaceful night."

Valerie froze, her gaze lingering on the refrigerated truck for a moment before meeting mine. She gritted her teeth and growled, "Fine, let's go!"

She jumped into the Porsche, the engine roared, and we sped north into the winding jungle trails.

As evening fell, we drove into the yard. The heavy bulletproof steel door slammed shut behind her, completely shutting out the outside noise. Valerie stepped out of the car, looked around, and her previously composed expression gradually crumbled.

A five-meter-high reinforced concrete wall, its top covered with sharp shards of glass, and barbed wire gleaming coldly even in daylight.

She gasped, her voice trembling: "Are you going to war? What kind of hellhole is this?"

I didn't answer. My heart pounded steadily as I watched her step across the threshold, a single thought in my mind: once you're here, there's no going back. The outside world would soon become hell.

I unloaded the last batch of beef. The mountains of food, rows of weapon crates, and boxes of antibiotics in the cold storage—even the most composed Valerie was utterly stunned by this sight. She remained silent for a long time, finally asking in a trembling voice, "What exactly are you preparing for? Are you planning to spend the rest of your life here?"

I stepped into the shielded space, dimmed the lights, and calmly looked at her. "No, Valerie. I'm preparing for the apocalypse at midnight tonight. You can choose to believe it, or you can think of it as a trip with a bunch of lunatics."

"The apocalypse?" She stared wide-eyed incredulously, even with a hint of pity. "Your madness is getting more and more..."

"Either take your sports car now and try to drive back to Los Angeles, four hundred miles away, or have your husband pick you up." I interrupted her with a cold laugh. "If you think I'm crazy, leave now. Nobody's stopping you."

Valerie took out her phone and dialed her husband's number. The man's laughter came from the other end of the line, along with the faint clinking of champagne glasses in the background. The man said coldly and dismissively, "Are you crazy? I'm at a party; I don't have time for your nonsense."

After hanging up, Valerie stood by the wooden post in the yard, silent for a long time. The last rays of the setting sun fell on her face. I handed her a bottle of mineral water, my tone leaving no room for argument: "If you still think I'm crazy tomorrow, you can leave anytime. I'll give you some food for the journey."

She took the water, took a deep breath, as if making a decision: "Okay, I'll go crazy with you this once."

Dinner was simple. I fried two lamb chops with a salad, and the wine was her stock from home.

The room was so quiet you could only hear faint breathing. Valerie ate while constantly giving me questioning looks: "According to the logic of the movies, shouldn't there be a zombie outbreak by now?"

"You'll understand when it's midnight." I took a sip of wine, looking out at the dark forest, inwardly sighing: even though this woman was aloof, she was indeed too lonely alone in these deep mountains. She couldn't have children, had no weaknesses, and was an excellent survival partner.

Suddenly, my phone rang. The three words "Emily" flashing on the screen were like a fly buzzing around the table.

I answered it.

“Honey, when are you going to send the alimony?” Emily was still whining in that sickeningly sweet tone. “I just saw a new Chanel bag I really like…”

I sneered, interrupting her before she could finish, “You really think I’m going to pay you? You’re kidding. I’m waiting right there. You three better surround the villa.”

In the background, Julian roared like a stray dog whose tail had been stepped on, “Ethan, you bastard! I’m going to kill you! Don’t let me find you!”

Valerie frowned, putting down her knife and fork. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll come looking for trouble?”

I curled my lip contemptuously. “We’ll see if he survives tonight.”

Midnight arrived.

I put down my glass, gesturing for Valerie to remain silent. The two of us sat in the bunker’s living room, staring intently at the numbers on the screen.

Ten, nine, eight, seven…

three, two, one.

In the sky, it was as if a silent behemoth collapsed in an instant, exploding with a thunderous roar, the entire world completely obscured by an eerie dark red light.

Valerie screamed, covering her ears and cowering in the corner, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The red light lasted for a full ten seconds before vanishing completely, leaving behind a new, lifeless red world.

"Don't be afraid," I calmly stood up and walked to her. " We 're safe."

I tossed her my phone: "Look, not just Los Angeles, Twitter is going crazy all over the world."

She picked up the phone shakily; the screen was filled with a dense stream of videos: Times Square in New York, people convulsing unconsciously, then suddenly attacking and tearing at their neighbors; the streets of London, filled with chilling screams.

Her face turned ashen, and she nearly fainted. Then, trembling, she turned on the home security camera.

In the footage, her husband, the man who had claimed to be at a business cocktail party, was embracing a blonde woman, fooling around on the sofa.

I watched this scene coldly, and said sarcastically, "See? They're still enjoying themselves, completely unaware that there are no laws in this world anymore, only slaughter."

Valerie stared intently at the screen, the fear in her eyes fading, replaced by extreme hatred and a hint of satisfaction at revenge.

"This is hell," she murmured to herself.

No, Valerie. I looked out at the dark and bloody world, and contentedly lay back in my chair.

For those who were prepared, this was heaven. But for those self-righteous scum outside, this was just the beginning.