My Reborn Apocalypse Begins with a Divorce novel Chapter 129

Another night passed, and the apocalypse had entered its twentieth day.

Ray stared out at the window as the world slowly whitened with dawn. He couldn’t help but whistle in admiration.

Human resilience was truly remarkable. Twenty days had passed, and yet, it seemed that at least half–or perhaps even more- of the residents in the neighborhood were still alive. Were it not for the endless slaughter among themselves, the number of survivors could have been much higher. It was awe–inspiring.

After lingering in bed for a while, he got up and went downstairs. Leo wagged its tail at him, and Ray chuckled, tossing it two meat buns before opening the basement door and carrying breakfast down.

Of course, he had already confirmed via the monitors that it was safe. He trusted only himself.

Honey and the other three were still sleeping soundly. Compared to the bitter cold outside, this basement was a cozy haven. Snuggled in the blankets, it was almost unbearably warm. The only downside was the crowding–four people sharing one bed. But warmth outweighed discomfort, and this flaw was easily ignored.

The four women eventually got up to wash and have breakfast. Afterward, Ray let them watch dramas or read novels, while he went upstairs to the second floor. He couldn’t spend all his time with them–what could a man and four women do together with nothing to do?

The temperature had dropped again. He glanced at the thermometer: the room had fallen to 15°C, down from a previous 23-24° C. He added extra firewood, opened the window, and measured the outside.

Minus 41°C.

Even during the day, the temperature had plummeted to this degree. What about the night?

Ray looked at the apartment blocks beyond. Those who had survived until now were fortunate, but surviving the next days would grow increasingly difficult. Without heating or fireplaces, people would have to huddle together for warmth–but even that would barely suffice. Each day, more people would succumb to the cold.

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of melancholy–but only a pang. He wasn’t a savior, had no desire to be one. He just wanted to survive. At most, he might shelter a few women–solitude was unbearable, and a year or so alone would drive anyone mad.

With this in mind, he hadn’t sent Honey and the others back to their own accommodations. They wouldn’t last more than two days outside. They weren’t exactly his “ideal type,” but there were no other options. When choices ran out, standards naturally lowered.

Still, the four women would remain in the basement; Ray wouldn’t let them come upstairs.

By daytime, the fog had cleared somewhat, visibility reaching around twenty meters.

Perhaps it was time to go search for resources.

The extreme cold limited the number of people who could venture outside. Exposure for twenty minutes in such conditions could damage the lungs, even cause internal organs to fail. In a car, of course, they’d be safe.

Ray calculated carefully. His modified vehicle could maintain warmth without issue. He would never spend more than twenty minutes outside–in fact, to be safe, he decided fifteen minutes was the limit.

He also needed to grab a bulletproof vest and helmet from the police station.

Another reason to go out: staying in the villa too long would make him think about the four vixens downstairs… and he worried about prematurely ending his own life. Kings of olden times often died young from indulgence. He had no intention of repeating history.

Preparation was essential. Ray dressed in the warmest winter gear and added heat pads today’s temperature was at least twenty degrees colder than his last outing. This was serious business.

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Chapter 129

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He also packed three days‘ worth of food and clean water in the basement, just in case something delayed him outside. He didn’t want to return to find three bodies–or worse, only one–waiting for him.

If he had taken in the four women, he wasn’t about to let them starve or freeze. Yet, he still locked the door. If he really died

outside, they would go down with him. It was fair enough.

The same went for Leo. Ray had prepared ample dog food and water, instructing it to eat just one portion per day. The dog, well- trained, understood and wagged its tail desperately as if pleading for him not to leave.

Ray laughed, patted its head, and broke free, heading out.

He got in the car and opened the door. The hail outside had nearly stopped; no stones had fallen for half a day. He started the engine and immediately felt the car drifting.

The road was icy.

The surface was now a thick, smooth layer of frozen hail. Walking or driving on it was like skating. Even with his G–Class modifications–anti–slip tires and weight sufficient for stability–he could barely maintain control. Without them, he would have crashed multiple times by now. The city had become a massive skating rink.

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