My Reborn Apocalypse Begins with a Divorce novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Too bad, Ray no longer had the headspace for romance.

Would someone like Lucy ever agree to be his mistress? Of course not.

Not now. Maybe after the apocalypse, things would be different; when the world collapses, a single meal could make a person reckless and grateful in equal measure.

But that was a problem for a later self–he had no time for chasing women today.

He had other priorities.

‘I need to get in shape,‘ he thought. ‘If the hailstorm blocks out the sun for months–or forever–then physical resilience becomes a form of insurance. The stronger my body, the less likely I am to get sick.‘

Weapons came next. When the apocalypse arrived and he wanted to ensure the Gantts suffered, he had to do more than hoard food; he had to make sure they could never take it from him.

If the whole neighborhood learned he had supplies, they would swarm him. That had been the lesson of his previous life.

‘So I need a lot of weapons. Preferably guns.‘

Not easy in Gohaven. He could risk going abroad and buying them there–money wasn’t an issue–but the danger of foreign black markets, of getting offed by someone worse, was real.

He was building a fortress of certainty. Risking everything on foreign chaos didn’t fit that plan.

Then an idea smoothed itself out in his mind: the range. Open the portal right in front of the muzzle, keep the projectiles in the space, and pull them back whenever he wanted. Bullets in a ready state, storable, retrievable with a thought–single shots, volleys, silent executions. If money could buy the ammunition, the dimension storage space would buy him the tactical advantage.

He walked and thought and arrived home with those plans settled like stones in his pocket.

Around ten o’clock, Lucy sent a brief message: [Good night.]

He remembered the old days–when he’d chased Lauren, he’d send ten messages before getting one reply, and only after half an hour. Now the roles were reversed. Why?

Money, he thought dryly. Money was an obscene, efficient opener. Millions had made a goddess–like woman send him a simple good–night.

He let a little smile move across his face, waited ten minutes out of principle, and then replied: [Good night.]

He would no longer be the desperate simp. From now on, he would be the one women simped after.

The night passed. Lauren did not sleep. Her head filled with thoughts of 1.2 million dollars, Ray’s insolent face, the imagined image of him and Lucy leaning too close.

By nine, she could stand it no longer; she called Henry and urged him to hurry–go to the bank, check Ray’s

accounts.

An hour later, a call from Henry came.

Chapter 15

+25:longs

“Did you check it?” she asked eagerly.

“I did.”

“How much?” Her voice wavered between hope and dread.

200 thousand? Half a million? She tried not to imagine the number, but her pulse rattled like a loose wire.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify