Ethan stepped outside his apartment.
The neighborhood was filled with peace and joy.Parents played with their children in the central plaza, their faces glowing with laughter and contentment.
But Ethan knew—In just one month, all of this would be reduced to ashes beneath the snow.
He walked briskly out of the complex.Not far away stood a Michelin three-star restaurant.
A single meal there could cost over seven thousand dollars.In the past, Ethan would never have dreamed of walking through its doors.
But now?
He didn't care about money anymore.
Inside the restaurant, Ethan picked a window seat.He scanned the menu and ordered every single expensive item.And to top it off—a bottle of Château Lafite.
The total bill? Nearly $7,000.
Even the waiters looked at him differently, their eyes filled with curiosity and subtle admiration.They likely assumed he was some young millionaire blowing off steam.
After all, how else could someone afford such a meal alone?
Ethan ignored them.
When the dishes arrived, he dug in like a starving beast.
After six months of surviving the frozen apocalypse, this kind of food nearly brought tears to his eyes.He ate fast and ferociously, drawing whispers from nearby tables.
Let them talk.
When the world ends, people will kill each other for instant noodles.Civility and manners?They'll vanish with the warmth.
Outside the restaurant, two women stopped in their tracks.
One wore a pair of Gucci heels, her long hair cascading down her back, her makeup flawless.
Rachel Whitmore.
The woman who had led him to his death in his previous life.
Beside her was her best friend, Ashley Monroe.
As they passed by the restaurant, both instinctively glanced inside.
They had always dreamed of dining at such an upscale place.But reality—and their bank accounts—kept them far from the fantasy.
Still, they liked to look.To dream.To hunt.
Maybe they'd spot a rich man to reel in.
What they didn't expect…Was to see Ethan Cross—sitting inside, surrounded by gourmet food.
Rachel froze."Wait… is that Ethan? How the hell can he afford that?"
Ashley covered her mouth in shock."Ethan? I thought he was just average. Since when does he have that kind of money?"
She shot Rachel a look, then smirked.
"You've got yourself a jackpot. That loyal little puppy chasing you? Secretly loaded."
"Look at all that food. That table has to be worth at least seven grand. Who eats like that alone?"
She said it with a mix of envy and admiration.
They both knew Ethan had been chasing Rachel for months.Rachel had never said yes—never said no either.
She was a textbook gold-digger.She believed she could land a millionaire husband one day.
But she also wasn't ready to let go of someone like Ethan, who had a house and car in the city.
So she kept him around.A backup plan.
But now?
Watching him dine like a king changed things.
"Could Ethan really be some hidden rich heir?"
Rachel's fingers touched her chin, deep in thought.
The more she imagined it, the more it made sense.
"Just like those TV dramas," she murmured."The wealthy heir hiding his fortune to find true love..."
Her eyes began to sparkle.
If that were true, she wouldn't even need to lift a finger.Ethan had been chasing her for half a year—she could probably make him propose with just a nod.
Ashley nudged her."Let's go talk to him!"
But she wasn't interested in Ethan.She was eyeing that table full of food.
How many people ever got the chance to taste Michelin three-star cuisine?
Rachel hesitated.Then shook her head.
"No. If we go now, he might think I'm only after his money."
"Let's wait out here. Pretend to run into him by chance."
She wasn't stupid.If Ethan really was rich, she needed to maintain her image.
Appear graceful. Pure. Desirable.
That way, once she had him wrapped around her finger, she could control him completely.Turn him into the loyal dog he used to be.
So the two women ducked behind a corner and waited.
Ethan finished his meal after more than an hour.
He patted his full belly with satisfaction.
Next stop: supplies.
He was confident he could raid the Walmart distribution center,But better safe than sorry.
He'd experienced hunger before—he wouldn't risk it again.
He paid the bill, and under the staff's beaming smiles, stepped out of the restaurant.
That's when he heard a familiar voice.
"Ethan! What a coincidence!"
He turned and saw Rachel Whitmore and Ashley Monroe walking up.
Rachel reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, subtly revealing her smooth neck and pink earlobe.
Classic move.
Ethan chuckled inwardly.So predictable.
That "accidental seduction" act?She was textbook green tea.
Too bad it didn't work on him anymore.
Not after what she did.Not after she led him to his death—And asked for his ribs to be used in soup.
His gaze turned ice-cold.So cold, it made Rachel's skin crawl.
"E-Ethan… what's wrong?"
He quickly wiped the look from his face, smiling faintly.
"Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else."
Then he turned to leave.
But deep down…He'd changed his mind.
Letting her die quickly was too easy.
Better to let her live.To suffer.To break.
He had time.He had memories.He had a hundred ways to make her regret everything.
For now?
He'd let her go.
Because the most important thing right now—Was to build the safest, most secure bunker imaginable.
A place where he could survive the end of the world in comfort and control.