Apocalypse 02

A little later, Lin Nuan was dressing up in front of the mirror, muttering to herself as she gazed at her reflection.

"Zhou Yue's life must be saved. As for Wu Mengmeng and Yang Tian, you’re on your own."

She thought of Fang Zhiyi—he must already have taken a liking to her. Who would’ve guessed that this classmate from the next class over was the son of a wealthy businessman? She remembered that in her past life, the Fang family, under the protection of a hastily assembled security team, had established the first survival base. She had caught a distant glimpse of Fang Zhiyi back then, his arrogant demeanor making her seethe. What was so great about being rich? But she’d heard rumors—he possessed a personal pocket dimension. It sounded unbelievable, but if such a thing existed, how useful would that be?

Still, Fang Zhiyi wouldn’t stay smug for long. Their family’s base was breached from the inside by disgruntled individuals, allowing hordes of infected to flood in. It was then that Wu Mengmeng and Yang Tian had pushed her out to buy themselves time.

At this memory, Lin Nuan’s eyes darkened.

The priority now was tomorrow—she needed to borrow money from Fang Zhiyi, as much as possible, then take her people to build a fortress for the apocalypse.

Lost in thought, she hummed a tune while brushing her hair, the scene unsettling even Xiao Hei, who was secretly watching from the side.

Meanwhile, at the Fang residence, Fang's Father drove Fang Zhiyi up the mountain. "Son! This is the mountain your old man bought recently. I was even planning to pick an auspicious day to relocate our ancestral graves here—save us the hassle of running around during tomb-sweeping season."

Fang Zhiyi stared out the window, silently assessing the terrain.

As the SUV came to a stop, Fang's Father leaped out. "This mountain is yours to use!" He gestured grandly, as if he’d conquered the world.

Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "No good. The terrain isn’t steep enough—too ordinary. It wouldn’t stop even hikers, let alone the infected."

Fang's Father stumbled, his earlier enthusiasm deflating. "Then what do we do?"

Fang Zhiyi pulled out a map, a red circle marking a location. "North Mountain."

"That North Mountain with the public cemetery?" Fang's Father blinked.

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Exactly."

North Mountain, due to its rugged terrain, had been designated as a cemetery early on and remained undeveloped since. Only five kilometers from the city, it was largely deserted except for a few bustling days during grave-visiting season.

Back home, Fang Zhiyi began drafting a list—rice, flour, instant noodles, self-heating meals, canned goods, seasonings, survival gear, gasoline, generators, batteries, light bulbs, tools, even water purifiers.

As the list grew longer, even Fang's Father grew uneasy. "Son, are you sure the apocalypse is coming?"

Fang Zhiyi glanced at him, gave a slight nod, and handed over the list.

Fang's Father took a deep breath. "Screw it, let’s do this!" He snatched the list and marched outside. Soon, the sound of multiple vehicles starting up echoed, followed by phone calls.

With the house quiet again, Fang Zhiyi pulled out a bracelet from his bag, examining it. "Who invented this thing? If Lin Nuan can use it, why can’t I?"

Xiao Hei also seemed puzzled. "Host, maybe it requires a blood sacrifice?"

Fang Zhiyi smacked his forehead, but even after nearly bleeding himself dry, the bracelet showed no reaction.

"Wait… is this even the right one?" Fang Zhiyi eyed the bracelet skeptically. Peering through the loop, he saw Xiao Hei’s curious face staring back—large eyes but no nose or mouth.

An idea struck him. "Xiao Hei, this thing is as inexplicable as you are. Try holding it."

Xiao Hei hesitated, then reached out and touched it. Instantly, it lit up. "I can feel it! I can actually touch it!"

Fang Zhiyi was stunned. He’d only said it offhandedly, but Xiao Hei really could interact with the bracelet!

But just as Xiao Hei celebrated, the bracelet suddenly morphed, liquefying and slithering up its finger.

"Hey? Hey?!" Xiao Hei panicked, frantically patting itself, but the bracelet had vanished without a trace, leaving Fang Zhiyi dumbfounded.

"Where’s my bracelet?"

Xiao Hei rubbed its hands nervously. "I don’t know… Wait—" It paused, sensing something. "Host, try handing me that phone." It felt like something new had awakened inside it.

Fang Zhiyi passed over his phone. The moment Xiao Hei touched it, the phone disappeared.

"What the—where’s my phone?!" Fang Zhiyi jumped up.

Xiao Hei shivered slightly, and the phone reappeared in its hand.

Fang Zhiyi’s eyes gleamed. "Now try this lamp."

"This remote."

"The TV."

"The fridge."

"How about this cabinet? Hey—don’t run! I haven’t tested the house yet! Xiao Hei! Xiao Hei!"

The next morning, Fang Zhiyi rubbed his eyes awake to find several unread messages. Two were from Fang's Father, who seemed to have pulled an all-nighter—one photo showed him holding a lease agreement with a thumbs-up, the other featured him posing in front of several heavy-duty trucks, also flashing a thumbs-up.

After a moment’s thought, Fang Zhiyi replied: "Legendary. 666."

Fang's Father responded instantly: "Wake up and come inspect the goods! The first shipment arrives this afternoon!"

Fang Zhiyi then checked the other messages. The first was a cute emoji followed by a photo of legs clad in white stockings.

"Zhiyi, I went to your class, but they said you left in a hurry yesterday. Is everything okay?"

"Let’s have lunch together today."

Fang Zhiyi smirked coldly, ignoring her for now. The last message was a text:

"Listen here, punk—stay away from Lin Nuan, or you’ll regret it." Fang Zhiyi scoffed. "Hotheaded fool. Must be that simp Zhou Yue."

He didn’t reply to either. Right now, preparation was urgent—the coming apocalypse wasn’t just storms or droughts, but infected with rudimentary intelligence. Imagine a horde of them wielding machetes and guns—you think agility alone would save you?

North Mountain was quickly enclosed. With the Fang family’s financial might, construction progressed rapidly. Rumor had it Fang's Father had even sold several profitable ventures and transferred newly acquired land to competitors to fund this.

"What’s Old Fang up to? Developing cemetery tourism?" one rival joked.

"Word is he’s building a mountain villa," another chimed in.

"Madness. The guy’s always been eccentric, but this is next-level."

News of the Fang family’s "madness" didn’t spread far, remaining confined to business circles. At Fang Zhiyi’s request, deliveries were conducted under cover of night.