Doomsday 03

"Have you heard? Young Master Fang said the first batch of houses is ready, and we can bring our families to live here!" A man in a uniform exclaimed excitedly.

"Not just that—the finance department also handed out hefty bonuses," another chimed in.

Old Li, a long-time employee of Fang Corporation, took a drag from his cigarette, his face clouded with worry. "What exactly is President Fang up to this time? What’s so great about this godforsaken North Mountain?" He had deep ties to Fang Corporation. If it collapsed, he wouldn’t know where to go—who would hire a man his age?

"Director Li, stop overthinking it. When has President Fang ever made a bad deal?" someone teased.

Old Li stubbed out his cigarette butt under his shoe. "Alright, let’s get back to work."

Lin Nuan was frantic. She’d been trying to reach Fang Zhiyi every day, but he was never around, and he wouldn’t answer her calls. Without him, her plans would fall apart.

With only two months left before the apocalypse arrived, Lin Nuan had no choice. She sneaked home, stole the deed to her family’s house, and, accompanied by Zhou Yue, walked into a loan company. Though suspicious, the company lent her money—not much, just 200,000, with sky-high interest. But Lin Nuan couldn’t afford to care anymore.

Little Hei watched Lin Nuan’s antics lazily, narrating everything to Fang Zhiyi.

"If her parents find out she mortgaged an 800,000-yuan house for just 200,000, they’d probably break her legs."

"Wow, this guy’s a real simp. He even stole his family’s gold and property deed!"

"Host, they’ve scraped together 500,000 now."

Fang Zhiyi suddenly remembered something. "Oh right, she’s a reincarnator. What happened to her parents in the end?"

Little Hei shrugged. "They died on the first day of the apocalypse."

A flicker of disdain crossed Fang Zhiyi’s eyes.

Lin Nuan and Zhou Yue skipped class, spending their days scouring the market. Without her spatial storage this time, she could only rent a decent little house in the suburbs and hire trucks to haul supplies there.

It was then that Lin Nuan spotted a familiar figure.

"Host, they bought tons of water. Next, they’ll probably stock up on dried goods," Little Hei commented, as if watching a movie. "They’re at the dried goods store now. Huh? Host, that guy looks just like you... Holy—!" It finally clicked, and Little Hei turned to glare at Lin Nuan and Zhou Yue.

"Zhiyi, you’re here?" Lin Nuan’s voice was laced with confusion, but her face lit up with a bright smile—a sight that made Zhou Yue seethe.

Fang Zhiyi glanced at her. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah, yeah," Lin Nuan said, stepping closer. "I was so worried about you. I thought something had happened."

Fang Zhiyi took a step back. "I’m fine."

Lin Nuan pouted, feigning distress. "I wanted to visit you, but my dad got seriously ill and was hospitalized..."

Fang Zhiyi’s eyes widened. She can even spin this?

Beside her, Zhou Yue looked baffled. Her dad’s in the hospital? But she told me something big was coming...

"Then you shouldn’t be wandering around. Go take care of your dad," Fang Zhiyi said flatly before turning to leave.

Lin Nuan bit her lip, eyes welling up.

Little Hei gasped. "That’s the look! Host, that’s the exact look that completely wrecked the original you!"

Fang Zhiyi remained unmoved. "Don’t try to scam me. I didn’t even touch you."

Zhou Yue, boiling with anger, lunged forward to shove Fang Zhiyi. But before his hand could connect, a burly man intercepted him, gripping his wrist. Zhou Yue turned, bewildered, to face the towering figure.

"You dare lay a hand on our young master? Got a death wish?"

Zhou Yue’s mind reeled. Fang Zhiyi... a young master? What?

Fang Zhiyi studied Zhou Yue—the very man responsible for the original host’s death—and made up his mind. "Just kick him out. Let’s go." With that, he walked away. Lin Nuan tried to follow but was blocked by two men.

Fang Zhiyi hadn’t expected the crew he’d brought for shopping to come in handy like this.

Watching him leave, Lin Nuan stomped her foot in frustration. She shot a disdainful look at Zhou Yue, panting beside her, and stormed off. Zhou Yue scrambled after her.

Construction at North Mountain was in full swing. Soon, the first batch of housing was completed, and employees lined up with their families to collect their keys. The location wasn’t ideal, but free housing was free housing—who’d say no?

On the other side of North Mountain, two massive bomb shelters—relics from wartime—stretched deep into the mountain, spanning several kilometers. Every night, trusted workers handpicked by Old Fang hauled supplies inside.

Fang Zhiyi, meanwhile, lived comfortably. He bought knives, crossbows, and even seeds and fertilizer online, stashing them away with Little Hei’s help. If he ran out of money, he’d just ask his dad for more.

Then, the day arrived.

Every Fang Corporation employee received a notice: a grand assembly would be held at the North Mountain estate, open to all staff and their families. Aside from a few holdouts, most attended.

As soon as they signed in, the massive iron gate at the foot of the mountain creaked shut, and rows of protective barriers were installed along the high walls.

Someone glanced back and joked, "Man, this place we built looks like a prison."

"Shut it. Didn’t you get paid?"

"Not yet. They said expenses were high, so salaries would be delayed. You got yours?"

"Well, no... but you think President Fang would stiff us?"

"Didn’t say that."

The assembly began, but unease settled over the crowd as security personnel patrolled the perimeter, scrutinizing everyone—an unusual sight.

Old Fang took the stage to applause. He was a good boss, well-respected by his employees.

"Alright, no beating around the bush. You all know me, right?"

"Some of you must be wondering why we built this place in such a short time. Today, I’ll give you the answer—but you have to trust me." Old Fang’s voice wavered slightly. His entire fortune had been poured into this project, and now, it all felt surreal.

Suddenly, Fang Zhiyi stood up and strode to the stage amid the crowd’s murmurs, taking the microphone from his father.

"I won’t waste time explaining. Just watch the live broadcast." He gestured, and a projection flickered to life behind him—a local news segment interviewing people on the street.