End Times, Surviving with My Beastly Army novel Chapter 43

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11:31 Sat, May 23 M.

End Times. Surviving with My Beastly Army

Chapter 43 The Homeowner Returns

“This is Snowy.”

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Robin patted the tiger on the head under Tim’s horrified stare, considered for a moment, and added, “He’s

my son.”

Tim stared at her, flabbergasted.

Just as they were about to walk inside, Tim suddenly remembered something. “Oh, Robin, there’s something I need to tell you-”

Too late. Robin had already spotted the young man sitting in the middle of the living room sofa.

Objectively, the boy had striking features–angular, well–proportioned, the kind of face that would’ve turned heads. But weeks of being bedridden without sunlight had left his complexion ghostly pale, his frame thin, and his slightly overgrown hair drooping over his forehead, giving his eyes a brooding, sullen edge.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Well, look who’s finally awake.”

Under Tim’s anxious gaze, the young man got to his feet and walked straight over. His voice was flat, stripped of any warmth. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Henry Wood.”

Robin gave an easy nod. “You can call me Robin, same as everyone else here.”

Henry’s brow creased immediately. His tone turned sharp. “I don’t care what they call you. Do you have any idea–this villa is mine.”

Robin’s hand paused mid–motion. She turned slowly to face him.

So that was it. He was here to settle accounts.

Her gaze cooled, though the faint smile stayed in place. “And? What’s your point?”

Henry hadn’t expected such a calm reaction. He opened his mouth, momentarily thrown. “You took over my property without permission. And you’re acting like it’s perfectly normal?”

“Your property?”

Robin smiled and took a deliberate step back. “Why don’t you open your eyes and take a good look? Does anything here still look like ‘your property‘? Oh, right-”

She made a show of digging through her pocket–actually pulling the rental contract from her storage space. “Even if this were your property, the contract right here, black and white, says I’ve rented it. As of right now, this place is still mine.”

Henry’s expression shifted several shades. “So it was you who rented it?”

“That’s right.”

Robin nodded. “And according to the terms, Mr. Henry, the lease hasn’t expired yet.”

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11:31 Sat, May 23 M.

Chapter 43 The Homeowner Returns

“You-!”

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He hadn’t expected her to produce the contract on the spot. His face darkened. “Tim already told me– everything outside is chaos. Law and order have completely collapsed. Even if you have a contract, so what?”

“Ohhh-”

Robin dragged the word out, feigning a sudden revelation. “So you want to play dirty. Great. Playing dirty happens to be my specialty.”

Before Henry could react, Robin had him by the collar.

Ella, Dane, and Tim all went pale.

They’d known these two were going to clash the second Henry woke up. They just hadn’t expected it to happen this fast.

Robin was half a head shorter than Henry, but the force of her presence didn’t concede an inch.

She forced him to meet her eyes. “If we’re throwing out the rules, then let’s throw them all out. As you said, the world’s gone to hell. That means whoever takes something, keeps it.”

Henry strained to break free. He couldn’t. He chalked it up to weeks of inactivity, and his brow furrowed. “Let go of me!”

“Let go?”

Robin’s voice dripped with contempt. “You can’t even break free on your own, and you’re ordering me to let go? Give me one reason I should.”

A vein pulsed at Henry’s temple. He forced down his anger. “This is my turf, you pathetic leech! You’ve got a hell of a nerve, squatting in my spot!”

“Ha

Robin’s eyes glinted with challenge. “Prove it.”

Henry ground out, “I bought this place. I have the deed!”

Robin threw his own logic back at him. “Law and order have collapsed. What does a deed prove? Even if you can produce a property deed, so what?!”

“You-

Realizing he had been played, Henry’s face flushed red with anger, yet he couldn’t find a single word to say.

Robin pressed on. “If you really want to settle the score, fine. You were unconscious for nearly half a month. During that time, you were on my IV drips, sleeping in my bed, occupying my space. Your people have been eating my food. How are we going to account for all of that?

“This is the apocalypse. You spent two weeks in a coma with zero consequences. Do you have any idea what

that cost me?”

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