Chapter 1: Rebirth
I was pushed out of the bunker.
There were hundreds of zombies outside.
The iron gate slammed shut behind me, and I heard Marcus's voice from inside: "Brother, I'm sorry. But only one of us can live."
Then came Vivian's laughter: "Cort, your supplies, your bunker, your life—they're all ours now. Thank you for taking care of us these past ten years!"
She was still wearing the diamond ring I gave her when I proposed.
The zombies pounced.
The first one pounced on me, its claws tearing my skin and its teeth biting into my throat.
Blood gushed out and splattered onto my wrist and the military pocket watch that my grandfather had left me.
The pocket watch suddenly emitted a faint blue light.
"Space activated... Storage function enabled..."
I was stunned.
Does this pocket watch have a hidden storage space?
But it was too late.
More zombies pounced on me, tearing my flesh apart.
Before my consciousness faded, only one thought remained in my mind:
If I could do it all over again...
"ah!"
I suddenly opened my eyes, gasping for breath.
The familiar ceiling.
A bedroom in a ranch owner's house on the Texas border.
The phone screen on the bedside table displays: August 15, 2024.
There are three days left until the apocalypse begins.
I was reborn.
On his wrist, his grandfather's military pocket watch was slightly warm.
I closed my eyes and sensed that space—ten thousand square meters, where time stood still, capable of storing everything.
In my previous life, I activated it just before I died.
In this lifetime, it is already usable.
I took out a knife, cut my fingertip, and let the blood drip onto the dial of my pocket watch.
The pocket watch emitted a faint blue light.
"Bloodline match detected... Space activated... Storage function enabled..."
The next second, a huge space unfolded in my mind—vast, pure white, and seemingly endless.
With a thought, the whiskey bottle on the bedside table vanished into thin air and entered the space.
When I took it out again, the state of the bottle, the temperature, and even the liquid level were completely unchanged.
The phone screen suddenly lit up.
Unread message notification.
From: Vivian Close.
I opened the message.
A high-resolution photo came into view.
Vivian, wearing the silk nightgown I had given her three months ago, was naked in her arms with Marcus on our bed .
She was still wearing the diamond ring I gave her when I proposed; the two-carat diamond sparkled in the camera lens.
Caption: "Honey, Marcus says your bed is too hard, not as comfortable as the one in his apartment "
Sent at 11:47 PM last night.
It happened while I was away on a business trip.
I stared at that photo for a full ten minutes.
My first reaction was anger—blood rushed to my head, my fingers clenched, and the whiskey glass on the bedside table shattered in my palm, shards piercing my skin and dripping blood onto the sheets.
But soon, I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.
Don't act impulsively.
Impulsive actions won't solve problems.
In my previous life, I was a fool.
I believe in brotherhood, I believe in love, and I believe in humanity.
And what was the result?
Betrayed by the person he trusted most, he was used as bait to be fed to zombies and died without knowing why.
In this life, I don't believe in anything anymore.
Step 1: Empty Marcus's logistics warehouse.
I remember that Marcus had just opened a $5 million authorized supplementary card for me three days ago.
He opened this place specifically to coax me into investing in the warehouse expansion project.
He even generously said, "Brother, feel free to swipe this card as much as you want, you can empty my pockets!"
Then I won't be polite.
I logged into Marcus's backend and checked the secondary card's permissions—sure enough, I had the right to purchase any supplies under the guise of "company procurement," and the delivery address could be specified as Marcus's border logistics center warehouse.
But I soon discovered a hidden clause.
The supplementary card is equipped with a risk control mechanism that automatically triggers internal audits for single transactions exceeding 100,000 yuan.
I squinted.
"This guy is more cunning than I thought."
"Looks like we need to try a different approach."
I immediately adjusted my strategy:
The procurement was broken down into numerous small orders, with each order amount controlled below 90,000, to avoid audit triggers.
At the same time, I also need to create a "reasonable reason for consumption"—
I forged a "Company Team Building Activity Plan" and a "Warehouse Upgrade and Renovation Plan," uploaded them to the company intranet, and affixed Marcus's electronic signature.
In this way, even if the finance department reviews them afterward, they will consider these purchases as "normal company expenses".
At least, it can delay the time it takes for them to discover it.
Step 2: Modify the ranch bunker.
My ranch already had an underground weapons depot, but its defenses were insufficient to cope with the apocalypse.
I need to upgrade: bank-grade alloy doors, a three-proof fresh air system, deep well water purification equipment, a full-coverage monitoring network, and a yard full of traps and high-voltage electric grids.
I contacted several of the most reliable construction teams, all of whom were retired military personnel, and asked them to complete the renovation within 72 hours under the pretext of "expanding the wine cellar and underground shooting range".
I dialed the number for Dade Moving Company.
"Hello, is this DaDe Moving Company? I have a batch of 'charity supplies' that need to be moved."
"The address is Marcus Steel's border logistics center main warehouse, yes, the entire warehouse."
"I have only one requirement—fast, clean, and thorough. Leave nothing behind."
"I also want to sign a confidentiality agreement. I don't want any fourth party to know the details of this operation."
The other party was shocked by this exorbitantly priced deal: "Sir, that warehouse has at least several hundred tons of goods..."
Money is not a problem.
I said coldly.
"I'll give you 72 hours."
After hanging up the phone, I went to the window and lit a cigar.
Under the blazing sun on the Texas border, the ranch was serene.
I looked at the distant horizon, knowing that in 72 hours, this place would become a living hell.
And I will be the only king in this hell.
My phone vibrated.
Marcus texted me: "Bro, come to the office tomorrow. We need your signature to confirm the investment for a new project."
As I looked at the message, a cold smile crept onto my lips.
Okay, see you tomorrow.
