Reborn in Doomsday: I Own a Divine Barbecue Shop

Reborn in Doomsday: I Own a Divine Barbecue Shop

Ryu · Completed · 8.2k Words

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Introduction

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes and saw that I was still in the barbecue restaurant. My phone screen showed "Mom is calling," and I knew that I had been reborn.

In my previous life, after the apocalypse, they and their younger brother followed an A-level superhuman , living a life of luxury , while I was left destitute and starving.

When I finally couldn't take it anymore and asked them for help, they disgustedly kicked me into the zombie horde, saying it was all my fault for not being able to protect the barbecue restaurant, which caused the god-level shop to fall into someone else's hands and cost my family's wealth and prosperity.

In that situation, how could they possibly call me?

But they don't seem to realize that if they hadn't secretly sold my shop to fund my brother's overseas trip in order to satisfy his vanity, how could our amazing barbecue restaurant have fallen into someone else's hands just an hour before the end of the world?

That person, by virtue of his incredible ability to copy the superpowers of anyone who made a purchase at his store, became the undisputed overlord of the apocalypse, while I, the original owner, was torn apart and devoured by a horde of zombies.

In this lifetime, I will absolutely never hand over my shop to an outsider!

With that in mind, I answered the phone.

"Ethan! You've really grown up!" His mother launched into a tirade. "Why did it take you so long to answer the phone? Just because we only took Kevin abroad and not you? How can you be so petty? "

I remained expressionless. " Is there something you need?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by even sharper questions.

What kind of attitude is this?! You—

"Alright, alright," her father interrupted impatiently, "Stop talking nonsense. If you delay Iron Fist's closing of the shop, what if he comes looking for trouble?"

The person on the other end of the phone was now the father.

"Ethan , " he said haughtily and coldly, " we sold your ' Midnight BBQ ' to Iron Fist last week for $ 50,000 . The money has already been spent on Kevin's study abroad in Europe."

Iron Fist is the gang leader of our neighborhood; killing people is a common occurrence for him.

They didn't even talk to me before selling my shop to those kinds of people!

Even when I listened to it again, my fingers still gripped the phone tightly.

"Iron Fist is going to take over the shop at five o'clock this afternoon," the father continued. "You handle the handover procedures. Oh, and you'll have to pay the handling fees and the late payment penalty for the shop yourself . Be sensible and don't throw any more tantrums! "

Kevin's voice came from the background: "Brother, thank you! I'll treat you to dinner when I get back to China!"

"What are you thanking me for?" the mother scoffed. "It's all expected. He was born to contribute to the family ."

On the other end of the phone, the three people chatted away, completely disregarding my opinion, as if I had already agreed to their request .

"I refuse," I said.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"What did you say?" The father's voice lowered.

"The shop is in my name, and the property deed is in Ethan Black's name," I said, emphasizing each word, "not yours, not Kevin's. Whose signature counts."

"Are you crazy?!" the mother screamed. "We've already spent all the money! What are we supposed to do?!"

"That's your problem," I said.

"Ethan Black!" My father's voice seemed to leap out of the phone and bite me. "You dare disobey us? Believe me, I 'll disown you !"

"Whatever," I said.

"You—you unfilial son!" The father was so angry he was incoherent. "We raised you all these years, and this is how you repay us?!"

"Brother!" Kevin chimed in, his voice filled with grievance and anger, "You can't be so selfish! I finally have a chance to go abroad, can't you just let me have that one?!"

I sneered , not dwelling on the matter, and said directly, "Don't come looking for me again , and I won't come looking for you either."

"Fine! Fine!" the father roared in exasperation. "You've got guts! From today onwards, you're no longer a member of the Black family!"

"Okay," I said, and hung up the phone.

The phone rang again immediately.

I just shut down the computer.

Then he stood up and went to the kitchen.

a cleaver from the knife rack .

In my past life, after the apocalypse, my barbecue restaurant became a god-level safe house.

owner will copy the abilities of anyone with superpowers who eats at the restaurant .

The store is absolutely safe; no attack can harm the owner .

Moreover, only the shop owner can decide who can come in and who has to leave.

If the shop were still in my possession back then—

I will be the strongest person in the apocalypse.

But I lost the store an hour before the apocalypse .

They lost everything.

This time , I'm going to take everything back.

I picked up the landline and dialed the police.

"Hello, police station."

"I want to file a police report," I said. "A gang is trying to take over my shop. Their name is Iron Fist, and they might be armed. The address is 47 Green Street, East End, late-night barbecue."

"Received, we will send someone over immediately."

After hanging up the phone, I glanced at the clock on the wall.

3:10 PM.

There are 50 minutes left until the end of the world.

In these fifty minutes, I will protect my store at all costs.

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