My Reborn Apocalypse Begins with a Divorce novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68

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Honey and Amanda left, carrying Ray’s advice with them. “Keep the doors tightly shut,” he said. “Don’t open them for anyone, and before stepping outside, make sure no one is lurking around.”

The latter, of course, was highly unlikely. The cold was unbearable.

Senna City had never seen temperatures plunge below minus ten degrees. Winter clothing was practically useless. A quick stroll outside was tolerable–but lingering? No one could survive that long

And if it ever dropped to minus forty or fifty? The frigid air could damage lungs within minutes. Twenty minutes, tops, and a person’s internal organs would begin to fail. Death wouldn’t be surprising

So, caution before venturing out was all that was necessary.

Ray was being so meticulous because Honey was attractive, with a figure that made him reluctant to lose her- even temporarily. If someone else forced themselves on her, he’d have no reason to want her anymore.

He paused, thinking. After publicly killing Justin, he had effectively become the overlord of the neighborhood.

The downside? Everyone would avoid him, fearing the same fate.

The upside? Most people wouldn’t dare provoke him.

It was probably a fair trade.

Ray smiled. Today’s show would also reveal to everyone that he possessed a considerable stock of supplies. Naturally, some would start keeping an eye on him. Openly, he didn’t fear them–at worst, he could expose the secret of his otherworldly dimensional space and wipe them all out.

But, if possible, he’d rather spend a few more days “playing” with his adorable neighbors. Being trapped in this neighborhood alone was boring. Sex was entertaining, sure, but you couldn’t do it twenty–four hours a day, right?

So, Ray treated everyone in the neighborhood like his toys. Once dead and returned, what conscience or mercy could they expect from him? His restraint was the ultimate kindness.

News of Justin’s death spread quickly through the neighborhood, sending shockwaves through the community. Soon, a small group of residents decided to hold a meeting–about Ray, of course.

The meeting was organized by Marcus “Moe” Carter, who had a background in organized crime and had held the rank of “Fourth Brother” in his old crew, earning him the nickname “Moe the Fourth.” He had a certain reputation in the neighborhood, so it made sense for him to take the lead.

The meeting was held at Moe’s place. Surprising to many, the forty–something Moe lived with a moderately attractive woman in her twenties.

Someone recognized her and whispered in astonishment, “Isn’t she Miley Eisen, Joseph Dickens’s wife?”

Miley’s body stiffened, about to speak, when—smack!-Moe slapped her sharply across the face.

“Get back to the bedroom!” he barked.

He then turned to the others and explained, “This woman came crawling to me, abandoned her husband for a

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Chapter 68

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meal. I took pity on her. Fed her, and well… warmed my bed a little.”

The men exchanged knowing smirks, but then they all glanced at Moe, silently acknowledging his ruthlessness.

What kind of supplies could a guy like Moe possibly have at home?

So, it wasn’t that the young wife was desperate for his food–more likely, he’d ruined the couple. Killed the husband, took their supplies, and “took in” the wife. That explanation made a lot more sense.

No one dared check next door–Joseph was probably dead anyway. The cold preserved corpses, so there’d be no smell to give it away. But did it matter? Not really.

They weren’t here out of a sense of justice.

Of course not. No one cared about righteousness anymore. They were here because they suspected Ray had a massive stockpile. After all, he’d just killed Justin without batting an eye.

There was strength in numbers. Together, they could challenge him and take everything.

One of the men grinned and asked Moe, “So, how’s she?”

“Tight!” Moe laughed heartily. Seeing the man’s interest, he added, “You want a turn? Two packs of noodles or the equivalent in food, maybe a couple ounces of meat.”

The man shook his head. Too expensive.

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