Chapter Two

The sound of the study door locking from inside was almost inaudible in the hallway.

I stood before the desk without turning on the light.

Four o'clock Texas afternoon sunlight slanted through the blinds, cutting into bars of gold that fell on the floor, the bookshelf, and the two-door safe in the corner that I'd installed myself.

Barrage comments scrolled frantically at the edge of my retina, a dozen flashing by in an instant:

【Countdown 37 minutes, incoming high alert!!】

【Stop dawdling, bro. Carlos is already gearing up, AR-15s loaded in the pickup beds】

【I'm dying here dying here dying here—she changed the safe code, aren't you gonna check it first??】

【Upstairs shut up, he's clearly already noticed】

【Waiting for male lead close-up (professional)】

I had indeed noticed.

I crouched down, dialed three numbers, and felt it.

The lock cylinder resistance was wrong.

Not the code I'd set.

【Right, she changed it. Last life you voluntarily opened the safe to get her money. This life she made the first move—about two weeks ago.】

【Fuck, this woman is truly ruthless, she even blocked your access to your own money】

【Normal people would be breaking down right now】

I didn't break down.

I stood up, walked to the storage room, dragged out the toolbox, flipped to the very bottom, and pulled out hydraulic cutters.

I'd bought this to cut wire fencing. When I bought it, Jessica mocked me for ten solid minutes, calling me paranoid, saying Texas wasn't at war, saying I spent money like water.

I didn't argue back.

Now I aligned the cutter jaws with the safe's hinges, clamped down, and squeezed.

The sound of breaking metal wasn't quiet, but the kitchen was still chopping meat, Robert's TV was on at decent volume, the hallway had all kinds of noise.

First hinge broke. Second hinge broke.

The safe door tilted outward. I caught it with one hand and gently lowered it to the floor.

【That hand speed, I'm scared】

【Wait why is he so practiced at this hey】

【Pure Texas man, gets things done efficiently】

The safe didn't hold much: top layer cash and property deeds, middle layer a few account books, bottom layer a fist-sized stone wrapped in black velvet.

Apache Obsidian.

I picked it up and unfolded the velvet.

It was blacker than I'd imagined—black like a void, like it absorbed light and never released it. The edges were naturally fractured surfaces, felt colder than glass, with faint patterns on the surface like blood vessels the stone had grown itself.

【Wait?? He actually has this kind of golden finger??】

【Apache Obsidian... I looked it up, this thing can supposedly open alternate space, right】

【Upstairs what are you looking up, barrage IS the setting, stop pretending to know】

【Everyone quiet, manual is in the tin box directly under the stone】

I spread the velvet on the desk, reached into the bottom of the safe, felt a flat tin box, pulled it out and opened it—inside were thin handwritten pages, script like some more ancient language, but I could read it at a glance. The barrage started translating, one line after another popping out frighteningly fast:

【Activation method: blood.】

【After binding to master, attach to your palm—fuses in, not carried in pocket.】

【Space infinitely large, time frozen, living things apparently can't enter.】

【Point-to-point teleportation requires pre-set anchor points. Suggest setting your Command Post B as primary anchor.】

I dug a utility knife from the bottom of the toolbox and cut a line across my left palm—not deep, just enough to bleed.

Placed the obsidian in my palm and gripped it.

First second, no reaction. Second second, the stone started heating. Third second, it sank into my palm like something alive—not piercing, not melting, but quiet and unstoppable like water seeping into sand, until it disappeared.

I opened my hand. Only a thin cut still seeping blood remained on my palm.

Then I felt it.

A space hung in my consciousness, no boundaries, no weight. Put something in—invisible. Take something out—still there. I confirmed the point-to-point teleportation function was like a cocked and loaded gun, waiting quietly.

【Done done done!】

【...Holy shit, I can actually see it—his expression changed. Host, you're more thrilling than an actual host】

【Apache Obsidian, what an ominous name hey】

【Forget the stone! Carlos is already on Route 58!!】

I swept the cash, deeds, account books, and tin box all into the alternate space, nothing left behind. Sat back at the desk, opened the computer. Barrage instantly exploded again:

【Here we go! Go after her assets!】

【Freeze the cards! Freeze them! Freeze them! Don't leave her a cent!】

【Also raid her Manhattan nest egg, I'm telling you she hid it deep】

【Uh...how do you know about Manhattan?】

【Last life she spilled everything, don't even mention how ugly it got】

【Don't get sidetracked, watch his moves—if this isn't a pro I'll eat shit】

The bunker's AI management system took me two and a half years and three top engineering teams to build. Bottom-layer encryption I personally participated in—no backdoors, only biometric features and supreme administrator access. Back then I set Jessica as vice administrator with iris authentication, naively thinking that was trust.

Now I kicked her out.

Three steps, under forty seconds. Her iris data physically deleted from the system, vice administrator privileges zeroed. Supreme privileges bound to my voiceprint and fingerprint dual authentication, with an added command: any non-me biometric attempting forced login more than three times triggers complete lockdown mode—all bunker access points physically sealed, ventilation switches to recirculation, all external commands invalid.

【...Isn't this basically an iron coffin?】

【Precisely: an iron coffin prepared for them.】

【66666】

I knew Jessica's assets better than her secrets. Six years of marriage, every card passed through my account as intermediary. I knew her financial advisor. I knew all her banking institutions, including that Manhattan account she thought I didn't know about.

Freeze orders routed through the darknet middle layer, untraceable source, reason: "suspected cross-border money laundering," automatically triggering bank risk control.

Her unlimited black card became a piece of waste plastic from this second forward. Manhattan account, simultaneously frozen. Two properties—I'd done advance mortgage transfers into offshore accounts. Date: three days ago. Operations legal, absolutely clean.

【He moved three days ago? Holy shit, so the male lead already...】

【No wonder he was so calm earlier. Good lord, this is what he's been waiting for】

【Screenwriter, I'm kneeling—this wave is called secretly crossing to Chen Cang】

I pulled up the bunker supply inventory for review: million-ton-level military rations, weapons, ammunition, plus premium ingredients and medicine—enough to support hundreds of people for over three years of apocalyptic existence. Then I put that key in my own hands.

What Carlos and his crew would get was a door they could never open.

I closed the computer, stood up, pushed the chair back. The study returned to its original state—except for the disemboweled safe in the corner.

【Fourteen minutes left. Go now!】

【Pickups are at the fork!!】

I walked out of the study with my suitcase. Hallway lights on, kitchen aroma stronger, mother-in-law shouting "dinner's almost ready."

The suitcase was empty—I'd put all the luggage in alternate space. What remained in my hand was just an empty case that looked packed.

Jessica came down the stairs. She'd changed into a form-fitting silk dress, hair freshly arranged. She never wore this dress at home normally.

She saw the suitcase in my hand. A flash shot through her eyes.

She thought she'd hidden that gleam well.

Barrage caught it for me:

【Look! Look at that expression—she's smiling! You think she believes you packed?】

【This sister's acting has improved this second】

【Improved what, she's a reborn character, practiced a whole lifetime】

【Suggest giving her an Oscar (sarcastic)】

"Arthur," she said, voice gentle as honey, "did you pack everything you need? Want to double-check?"

I looked at her.

Six years. I'd finally seen right through her.

In that moment something inside me quietly snapped—not bursting but calmly releasing, making no sound at all.

"All packed," I said.

"Then I'll have Dad drive you."

"No need, I'll drive myself." I paused, adding, "Rest well at home these couple days. Don't miss me too much."

She smiled.

Barrage wailed into chaos in my peripheral vision:

【She bought it!! She actually bought it!!】

【Even her mouth corners are suppressing laughter hahahahaha】

【My god, information gap comedy—all the punchlines carried by villain overacting】

【You two in front haven't seen the villain ending yet, watch and cherish】

I opened the foyer door. Outside was dry Texas afternoon wind mixed with scents of earth and livestock. I walked to the pickup, tossed the empty case in the bed, started the engine.

In the rearview mirror, Jessica stood on the second-floor balcony holding red wine, a cashmere shawl she normally wouldn't dare wear draped over her shoulders—she was trying on that outfit, the "battle robe" she'd picked for herself before the apocalypse arrived.

She smiled at the direction disappearing in the rearview mirror.

She didn't know that battle robe would soon be stained with someone else's blood.

I shifted gears, hit the gas. The pickup crushed over the gravel road, drove out the farm gate, turned onto the dirt country road.

Barrage went quiet for an instant in my vision, then swarmed densely:

【High alert ahead, friendly reminder: don't look back.】

【He's coming.】

【Good show. Curtain up.】

【Guess how many days they'll live in this "goldmine"? Three months?】

【I bet they won't last a week hahahaha】

I didn't look back.

In the rearview mirror, dust rose on the distant path. A black Dodge Ram charged toward the farm in the Texas evening sunlight.

Headlights off, but I could see how many people sat inside.

Eleven. Fully armed.

【Welcome.】

【This ten-million-dollar mansion is yours from today.】

【—Empty shell edition.】

I pressed the gas. The pickup turned into a grove of tall oak trees, completely disappearing from their view.

The final barrage drifted by, blood red, bolded:

【Arthur Clayton, chapter settlement: stable.】

【Next chapter: Villains move in, good show begins.】