My Reborn Apocalypse Begins with a Divorce novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90

She had used a knife to kill William because he was a man. As a woman, she was at a disadvantage in raw strength, so to ensure he was taken out instantly, she chose a blade.

As for killing William’s wife, she used a chokehold and suffocated her instead–she was confident she could finish the job that way, and using a knife would have caused blood to spray everywhere, splattering onto her body.

In this apocalypse, it would be difficult to find water to bathe. So she chose the more exhausting method.

“Damn this catastrophe,” the female assassin cursed as she searched the apartment.

She went through the place carefully for two reasons: to look for food, and to make sure there were no survivors.

She pulled on winter clothes, concealing her full, alluring figure, then gathered up the last scraps of food in William’s home and ate slowly.

Her name was Electra Willow. Yes–she wasn’t a local. She was a professional assassin. She was fluent in five languages, skilled in disguise, and highly trained in hand–to–hand combat.

She had come to Senna City to carry out a hit. Naturally, the target was male.

She only accepted contracts to kill men–after all, with her beauty and charm, killing men was far too easy. Why not take advantage of her natural assets?

But she had barely rented a place and settled in, her operation not even officially underway, when the disaster struck.

She was a professional killer, not a survival expert. Faced with a situation like this, even she was at a loss.

Left with no better option, she returned to what she knew best–killing.

Once someone was dead, their belongings became hers.

She flipped through William’s phone. It was the only one left with a single bar of battery.

“Oh?” Electra’s eyes lit up. “This guy, Ray, seems to have a lot of supplies!”

Killing two people here would only buy her one more day of life. But Ray? A casual bounty from him was paid in boxes of food and water.

She licked her lips, her gaze burning.

“A lecher, hunting women all over the neighborhood?” she sneered. “Killing you will be effortless.”

But she also saw how terrified everyone in the complex was of Ray. This man was rumored to have a gun.

Her heart tightened. She was a professional assassin, proficient in countless ways to kill–but beyond seven steps, a gun was faster. No amount of effort would help her then.

And within seven steps? A gun was still accurate. Still fast.

Those movie scenes about disarming someone at close range or dodging bullets were pure fantasy–unless the shooter was a complete amateur.

“A gun complicates things,” Electra hesitated for a moment. Then she smiled brightly. “But he’s lustful. I’ll just sell a bit of my looks, make him lower his guard–and then stab him to death.”

She began preparing, and slid the dagger into her boot.

She slipped off her coat and looked into the mirror. Beneath the sweater, those curves, those lines–any man

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would be tempted at first glance.

Time to go seduce that pervert.

She put her winter clothes back on.

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In the underground garage, she used her phone as a light. After walking for a while, she arrived beneath Ray’s villa.

By the glow of the screen, she saw corpses wedged between cars and couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

“Gunshot wounds.”

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