Hannah was stunned.
"Apocalypse?" The word echoed in her mind.
She stared blankly at the wall of her office, unsure whether to trust what she had just heard. Was he serious? Could he be right? Was the world really heading toward destruction?
Still… something didn't sit right. She already had a few clues. Why else would he be buying so many supplies—food, water, tools, equipment—enough to stock an entire town?
Pacing back and forth across the glossy marble floor, she ran her fingers through her hair, anxiety mounting with each passing minute.
Should she trust him?
Should she take the gamble?
She sighed heavily, finally slumping into her chair with a defeated breath. "I don't know anymore…" she whispered to herself.
But if he was telling the truth—if this so-called apocalypse was really coming—then she would be grateful she listened. And if not? Well… she could afford to be wrong.
She owned the largest manufacturing factory in the country. She had billions in liquid assets. What could she really lose?
So, she made her decision.
With a few calls and connections, she secured an underground bunker—costing over two million dollars—fully stocked with nearly unlimited electricity, high-end filtration systems, and supplies that would last decades.
Within a week, she would quietly move in and monitor the news.
---
Meanwhile…
Noel stared in disbelief as her brother loaded the last of the gallons of mineral water into the storage unit. Row after row. It looked like the water had simply vanished from the warehouse.
The truck drivers were on break—luckily—so no one stopped him.
Watching him work with relentless focus, something in her finally shifted. She swallowed hard.
He was serious.
And for the first time, she truly believed him.
If an apocalypse was really about to begin, she wanted to survive—with him.
---
I stood silently, arms crossed, surveying the final shipment.
Over three million dollars worth of food.
Hundreds of billions of gallons of clean water.
Enough to feed an entire country.
I gave a slow nod. Good. This should be enough for the first phase.
My plan? To build a fortress, one that could house millions, with me at the center—its silent ruler.
But I couldn't stop the bitterness rising in my chest. I thought about my six tormentors—my bullies—the ones who humiliated me.
Soon they were all S-Ranked Awakened. They had gained their powers during the 30th to 40th wave of zombies. No one knew when each wave would come—sometimes a week apart, sometimes a month—but it didn't matter.
I grit my teeth. Even if I hated them, I couldn't forget. They became stronger… while I suffered.
But not anymore.
Now I would rise, too.
---
Right now, my focus was on training my little sister.
I glanced at Noel. She stood there, frozen, still processing everything.
I gave a small chuckle at her reaction and gently took her hand. "We're leaving," I said, voice firm. "Let's live in the forest for a while."
She hesitated, confused and afraid. But then she nodded. She trusted me.
We slipped behind the hotel, stepping into the dense greenery of the nearby forest. The air was damp, filled with the scent of earth and leaves.
Then, I summoned a gun—an AK-47—into my hand. I handed her a pistol and a few rounds of ammunition.
Her hand trembled as she accepted it. Her lips parted slightly in shock.
"It's time to train," I said calmly.
She didn't speak, only nodded. Even as a child, she had courage. Fear wouldn't control her—not when I had sacrificed so much for her.
---
We built a small camp hidden deep in the woods. I trained her every day—shooting, close combat, survival.
We didn't waste a single second.
By the end of four days, she was aiming for the head with almost perfect accuracy. She could now fight and kill zombies on her own—at least five at once.
It was now morning.
The sky shimmered strangely.
The first meteor was falling.
The apocalypse had begun.
Zombies would soon appear.
My own body had gotten stronger. I could feel it—G+ Rank. I could easily kill regular zombies now.
But I wouldn't let my guard down. I wouldn't waste my strength unless absolutely necessary.
Both of us were now fully armored, fully supplied, and fully ready.
---
Elsewhere, in school…
Lorraine leaned against the desk, lazily twirling a lollipop in her mouth. The other five girls surrounded her—the infamous group that ruled the hallways.
They were practically clones of each other—cruel, beautiful, and popular.
Aria sighed, a disappointed smirk tugging at her lips. "Hmm… our toy hasn't shown up lately. Maybe he finally killed himself."
Trish giggled, her innocent-looking smile masking a wicked heart. "Don't say that~! You'll make me feel guilty," she said in a singsong tone.
Samminah rolled her eyes. "He was nothing. Just an insect."
Jasmine frowned, frustrated that she hadn't smoked in days. "I miss torturing him," she muttered.
Rhian clenched her fists, her eyes gleaming with menace. "If he ever comes back to this school, we'll make his life even more miserable."
But before they could say anything else—BOOM!
The entire classroom shook.
Outside, a massive meteor had slammed into the earth.
Chaos erupted in an instant—cars crashing, people screaming, the streets a frenzy of terror.
Lorraine's lollipop slipped from her lips.
"What the fuck?!"
They all rushed to the windows. Outside, panic reigned. Fire, destruction, and—most terrifying of all—zombies.
Rhian's voice trembled. "Good thing they ran outside. The zombies are following them."
The six girls didn't panic. Not yet. But fear gripped their hearts.
With shaking hands, they locked the doors and windows, isolating themselves in the now-empty classroom.
No more smug laughter.
Only silence.
And dread.
---
Meanwhile…
I smiled as I wiped the blood off my blade.
Fifty zombies down.
Noel, panting and bloodied, stood next to me. She had just finished off one of the zombies herself. Her hands were still shaking, adrenaline surging through her.
And then—twenty-five more.
They emerged from the trees, groaning, rotten, ravenous.
But Noel couldn't take her eyes off me. Her brother moved like a shadow—swift, precise, deadly.
Even in the forest, with trees blocking sightlines and movement, he was unstoppable. Every movement was calculated. Every swing fatal.
She couldn't help but admire him.