Reborn in the Apocalypse, I Built an Underground Fortress

Freezing, biting muddy water rushed frantically into my nasal cavity and lungs. The tearing sensation of suffocation threatened to shred my consciousness to pieces.

Dozens of consecutive days of catastrophic superstorms had completely destroyed the city’s drainage system. The once-bustling overpass had become an island of despair, surrounded by a turbid, roaring flood that devoured the ruins of the city.

I clung desperately to an exposed piece of rusty rebar at the edge of the overpass, the blood seeping from my fingers instantly washed away by the torrential water.

Gathering the very last ounce of my strength, I looked up at the figures standing safely on the bridge deck.

These were the "family" I had given everything to love and protect.

"Pull me up..." I begged hoarsely, extending a trembling hand.

However, my brother-in-law, Mark, who stood at the bleeding edge, merely looked down at me coldly. There was no surprise or pity in his eyes.

He actually lifted his mud-caked boot and mercilessly ground it down onto the fingers I was using to grip the rebar.

"Don't waste your breath." Mark’s voice was exceptionally grating and cruel over the roar of the storm. "The current is too strong. You’re not making it up here, and you’ll only drag us down with you."

Standing behind him, Chloe, his wife, pulled her windbreaker tighter in annoyance, not even sparing me a glance. She just kept urging, "Let’s go! If we dawdle any longer, we’ll die too! The rescue helicopter won't wait for us!"

Just then, a man wearing a black baseball cap stepped forward, taking the spot that rightfully belonged to me.

It was David, my fiancée Sarah’s "ex-boyfriend."

He looked down at me struggling on the brink of death, a thoroughly unmasked sneer curling the corners of his mouth.

"It’s the apocalypse, and supplies are tight. Why keep this piece of trash around? Keeping him alive is just a waste of rations."

My head snapped up, my eyes locking onto the woman standing at the very back of the group.

My fiancée, Sarah.

The woman who used to wear an apron to make me hot soup, the one with the gentle, virtuous smile.

Right now, she was holding tight to the "son" I had loved with all my heart, her hand gripping the waterproof backpack that contained all of my emergency rations and life-saving medicine.

Faced with my desperate, disbelieving gaze, Sarah slightly averted her eyes.

Her expression was chillingly calm, showing not a single trace of wanting to lend a helping hand.

She lowered her head and simply said:

"Let’s go."

Under the crushing weight of the boot and the tearing pull of the current, the rusted rebar finally snapped.

I plummeted completely into the bottomless abyss. Freezing sewage instantly flooded my lungs, the agonizing pain tearing at every nerve.

A second before my consciousness faded into total darkness, pathetic images from the past few years flashed through my mind:

How I had been bled dry by Sarah’s family like a total fool; how I had sold off my shares just to buy a house for Mark, pay off his loan sharks, and fill the holes in his failing business; how I had worked day and night just to give a home to a child I believed was my own flesh and blood...

It turned out that from beginning to end, I was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb for them to leech off of together.

And in my dying moments, these parasites couldn’t even be bothered to take a second look at me.

"—Cough! Cough! Cough!"

With a violent fit of coughing, I shot up from the bed like a dying fish.

I gasped for air frantically, my hands clutching the fabric over my chest, cold sweat completely soaking my silk pajamas.

There was no freezing muddy water. There was no bone-chilling gale. What entered my vision were the familiar light-gray walls of my bedroom. The warm morning sun was spilling safely onto the dry, soft hardwood floor through the gaps in the blinds.

I reached for the phone on my nightstand with trembling hands.

The screen lit up, clearly displaying the date: May 12, 2045.

Exactly one year before the apocalyptic great flood that would destroy human civilization.

In the living room outside the bedroom, the morning news was playing on the TV.

The news anchor’s perfectly articulated voice drifted through the crack in the door: "...Recently, extreme rainfall and abnormal water levels have occurred in multiple regions globally. Meteorological experts warn that due to a rare atmospheric circulation pattern, we must be on high alert for regional mega-floods in the coming year..."

An ordinary person hearing this news would just complain about the terrible weather. But my heart was pounding wildly against my ribs—it hadn't been a dream.

The lingering burning pain deep in my lungs, and the phantom ache beneath my fingernails, were incredibly real reminders.

I had died once, and I had truly been rebirthed back to one year ago.

Footsteps suddenly approached from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open a crack.

Sarah was wearing my oversized white dress shirt, her hair loosely tied behind her head, holding a steaming cup of coffee. The smile on her face was still that pitifully gentle and tender one.

"Honey, you're awake?" Sarah walked to the edge of the bed, naturally reaching out to feel my forehead. "Breakfast is almost ready. Oh, by the way, my brother Mark called me earlier... He said his new energy auto-parts investment project is just short of the last one million. It’s a guaranteed money-maker, what do you think..."

Looking at this face—so close at hand, yet the very same face that had coldly watched me die from the bridge—my stomach churned violently.

Yet, under extreme, suppressed logic, I miraculously didn't show a single flaw in my expression.

I turned my head slightly, casually dodging her hand, and even forced a mild curve to my lips. "Alright, I understand. Let me go wash up first."

I threw off the blanket, walked straight into the master bathroom, and locked the door with a click.

I turned on the faucet, letting the freezing water rush over my hands, and looked up into the mirror.

The man in the mirror had handsome features. Though his eyes were slightly bloodshot from just waking up, his spirit hadn't yet been completely drained by that pack of vampires.

"The apocalypse is coming soon," I said to my reflection, enunciating every word.

I knew better than anyone that in one year, torrential rain would drown every street in this city. All the wealth that people currently flaunted would become nothing but rotting waste paper.

And in that disaster, the seemingly docile fiancée outside this door, her greedy brother and sister-in-law, and that first love, David, who was always hiding in the shadows, would not hesitate to push me to my death at the final moment.

But this time, I wouldn't let that ending happen!

One year was more than enough time for me to quietly transfer all my overt real estate, stocks, and cash.

I was going to build an absolutely secure underground bunker and an impenetrable submarine fleet.

I turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel to dry my face.

When the day comes that the ocean swallows the city, I will make them thoroughly understand...

Who exactly the piece of trash is!