Building My Empire in the Frozen Apocalypse (Riley Carter) novel Chapter 69

3:45 pm

Chapter 69 Luxury Sofa

Chapter 69 Luxury Sofa

Riley stared at the screen for a moment, taken aback.

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In a world where people would slit your throat for a moldy scrap of food, that kind of simple, no–strings–attached decency from TartKing was. disarming. It actually got to her a little.

“SpicyBurger: Alright, fine. I won’t argue. If that last set sells, we’ll go 80/20, your way.”

She accepted both the sofa and the blueprint, then leaned back with a groan, her spine giving a series of satisfying pops.

After grinding away for most of the day, night had fallen completely outside. First order of business: get that sofa set up.

The blizzard was still raging, throwing itself against the stone walls and windows with heavy thumps that only made the interior feel more still, more insulated.

Riley grabbed a basic flashlight and did a slow lap around the camp.

The stone walls were holding. The main gate was sealed tight.

‘All clear,” she muttered to herself.

Satisfied, she brushed the snow from her shoulders and pushed open the door to the main bedroom.

A wall of warmth hit her.

The fireplace in here was still going, logs crackling softly.

And there, curled up on the old rug right beside it, was a familiar small figure–cross–legged, her nose practically touching the

ablet in her lap.

Veeko.

The two furry ears atop her head twitched occasionally, and the long tail behind her tapped a steady, absent rhythm on the floor.

She was so absorbed she didn’t even flinch when Riley entered.

On the tablet’s screen, a colorful educational cartoon was playing at low volume–some beginner phonics thing.

‘Aaa… pple…”

A cheerful child’s voice sounded from the speaker.

Neeko’s odd–colored eyes were glued to the animation, her lips shaping silent, clumsy imitations of the sounds. A low, rough noise vibrated in her throat, caught somewhere between an animal’s rumble and human speech.

“Rrr… guh pul…”

“It’s apple,” Riley corrected gently, a soft laugh in her voice as she shut the door against the icy draft.

Neeko startled. Her whole body jerked like a spooked cat, springing to her feet, her tail bushing out instantly. But the tension drained just as fast when she saw who it was.

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3:45 pm

Chapter 69 Luxury Sofa

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“Rii Riley…”

She fumbled over the name. Her voice was still gravelly and strange, weighed down by a thick, bestial rasp, but the word was unmistakable She was talking.

Riley’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

Those learning videos were paying off faster than she’d dared hope. A few hours in, and she was already trying names?

“Yeah, I’m back.”

Riley walked over and, out of pure habit, ruffled the fluff on top of Neeko’s head. Just as soft as ever.

“You hold down the fort okay today?”

Veeko nodded vigorously, then thrust the tablet toward Riley like presenting a hard–won trophy. Her whole face was beaming look what I did. “Watch… long time… Learn… talk.”

‘Good job. Really good job.”

Riley didn’t skimp on the praise. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a foil–wrapped savory crumb cake, handing it over. “A

eward.”

Neeko’s eyes went wide and gleaming. She took the bun carefully with both hands, not unwrapping it immediately. First, she >rought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. Then, with deliberate care, she peeled back the foil and began taking tiny, reverent

›ites.

Watching her, Riley felt a weird, warm ache in her chest.

‘Alright, help me clear a spot.”

Riley gestured to the simple wooden table and chairs in the middle of the room.

Neeko, mouth still full, jumped into action. She didn’t even bother shifting forms–just hooked a hand under the chair and lifted it

side like it weighed nothing. The girl was seriously strong.

With the space cleared, Riley opened her inventory.

Thump.”

I solid, muffled sound.

The ridiculously ornate sofa set materialized right there in the bedroom.

The room, which until a second ago had been all rough–hewn wood and cold stone, rustic and bare, was suddenly… full

Harsh stone walls, a pragmatic stone fireplace and now, plopped right beside it, a deep burgundy velvet sofa and matching carved coffee table that looked like they belonged in some old aristocrat’s parlor.

The clash of styles was so jarring it was almost comical, like a grand luxurious estate had been abruptly placed inside a crude

wilderness bunker.

“Well.. that’s a look,” Riley said, scratching her cheek, caught between amusement and disbelief

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