When the World Ends, She Begins novel Chapter 4

The chubby middle-aged man gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that. A friend gave me half a pig, and my wife's cutting it up. Sorry for disturbing you."

Daniel waved impatiently. "Alright, enough. Deal with it in the daytime!"

"Sure, sorry again." The man's forehead was beaded with sweat as his eyes darted nervously.

Then he quickly shut the door.

Daniel grumbled and went back inside, too.

Natalie glanced at the tightly closed door of Unit 1302 and frowned slightly.

Why did that chubby man seem odd?

She thought about it for a moment, then turned to go back to her unit.

Four years of surviving the apocalypse had taught her one thing—mind your own business.

That chubby man wasn't someone nice. In her previous life, he had stirred up other neighbors to loot and vandalize everywhere while he stayed in the background, collecting his cut.

He was very cunning and sly.

The next morning, Natalie headed out early to a loan company.

She needed money, but selling her unit would take time, and she couldn't wait.

Banks could give her a mortgage loan, but the amount was limited and the funds took too long to process.

So Natalie went straight to a loan company.

After all, she wouldn't be paying it back because of the apocalypse.

Her unit was about 1,076 square feet. When she bought it, it was 30,000 dollars per square foot, but in recent years prices had dropped hard—now just over 20,000 dollars per square foot.

The place was worth around 2.5 million, and the lender said they could give her two million.

Natalie said, "I want 2.5 million. I'll borrow it for a week, and I'll sign an IOU for five million."

Then she pulled out a copy of an old household registration, borrowing Jacob's name to prove her family's wealth.

The loan officer's eyes lit up. He took her title deed as collateral and happily transferred the money.

Collecting from her wouldn't be a problem. We had plenty of ways to make people pay. Rich kids are the easiest to make money off.

He thought happily.

Natalie left with the money happily and hit a few online loan platforms for another 500,000 dollars, rounding her total to three million.

Then she went to a renovation company and ordered blast-proof glass and armored doors.

She paid extra to have them delivered and installed by noon.

The units in Maplecourt were designed with two units per floor, across 15 stories. Each resident's elevator card only granted access to their own floor.

Between the stairwell on each floor and the front doors of the two units was a lockable stainless steel gate, effectively creating an independent hallway door for every floor.

Once locked, the only way to reach that floor was by elevator.

Shortly after the apocalypse began, the power system collapsed, and the elevators stopped working. So as long as the hallway doors were locked, no one could access that floor.

The unit across from Natalie's unit was vacant. The owner had never come back in her previous life.

Living alone on the 14th floor, Natalie planned to install an additional blast-proof door behind the stainless steel gate on her floor. She also replaced her unit's front door with two blast-proof doors.

Four layers of doors meant four levels of security. This time, no one would break into her home.

After securing her building's access, Natalie headed to a large outdoor supply store. She stocked up on wetsuits and diving gear, sleeping bags, moisture-proof mats, tents, flashlights, radios, and more.

She even found gas masks.

Next came masks, windbreakers, and cold-weather gear.

Finally, she bought the most important tools for flood survival like inflatable rescue boats and rafts.

She bought several of each in case any got damaged in extreme conditions.

By noon, she grabbed lunch at a small diner, chatting with the owner's wife to find out their gas cylinder supplier.

Then she drove to the outskirts and bought two truckloads of propane tanks.

The bungalow in her storage space had water, electricity, and gas hookups, but her daily time there was limited.

And in the apocalypse, some things needed to be done openly. She couldn't just magically make cooked food appear without raising suspicion.

After buying the gas tanks, Natalie also purchased two truckloads of coal from a nearby factory. Coal was something she would need during the extreme cold.

As she was leaving the factory, she got a call from the installation crew saying her doors and windows had arrived at her place.

She drove home to find the workers hefting several massive armored doors, staring wide-eyed.

Natalie had blocked me too?

Tiffany flinched at the icy tone.

It had only been a few days, but Natalie seemed like a different person.

Her gaze was icy and harsh, laced with a hint of deep-seated hatred.

Tch, what did I do to tick her off? Tiffany thought.

She asked, "Nat, why did you block me and Braxton?"

Natalie's face didn't change. "Because I felt like it. Got a problem with that?"

Tiffany hadn't expected that answer and was caught off guard. When Natalie turned toward the elevator, Tiffany quickly followed her in.

"Nat, is there some misunderstanding between us?"

Her eyes shimmered with tears pitifully.

"Is it because Braxton's too persistent? He's actually a really good guy—lots of girls like him, but he only has eyes for you. He's hurting. He didn't know why you kept avoiding him ... "

Ding—the elevator reached the first floor.

The doors opened, and Natalie walked out without slowing down.

As she moved, she said, "He's too ugly."

"What?" Tiffany froze.

"You asked why I don't like him. It's because he's too ugly."

"And," Natalie turned to look at her, "you're ugly too. I don't like being close to ugly people."

With that, she turned and left.

Tiffany stood rooted in place until Natalie disappeared from sight. Then it hit her.

Ahh! That bitch called me ugly!

Tiffany, who had always thought highly of her looks, was furious.

Her most hated rival, Natalie, had just humiliated her to her face.

Her expression twisted with rage, and she screamed in frustration.