Chapter 4

Evelyn's POV

I hung up and stared at the empty living room.

'My supplies!'

My consciousness sank into my mind, and the outline of the apartment became clear.

With a mental command, I picked up a piece of charcoal in my hand.

I closed my eyes and scanned the storage space with my awareness. The living room was piled high with supplies, the kitchen stuffed to the brim, and the black soil garden on the balcony was quiet.

Everything was there.

Relief washed over me as I noticed the floating light timer in the center of the living room: [00:00:00].

So that was how it worked.

The storage space can only last for two hours; after that, it forces you out and cools down.

I had come out of the shower past midnight.

When I checked the storage space again, the timer had restarted: [01:59:59].

Only then did I relax.

Lying in bed, however, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

After what felt like a long time, I dozed off.

In my dream, blood everywhere. A rusted cleaver raised high, then fell heavily.

I ran desperately, my legs feeling like lead, with Hans' cold eyes watching behind me, and Giselle's moonstone pendant swaying on Tamara's neck.

"Ah!"

I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, my back soaked.

My wolf was softly whimpering in my mind.

It was five o'clock in the morning, but it was still dark outside.

I took a few deep breaths, looking at the pile of supplies in the storage space, and my heart slowly calmed down.

Not wanting to go back to sleep, I grabbed my car keys and headed out.

The sky was just beginning to lighten as I arrived at the farmers market. The parking lot was already bustling.

Fresh produce: one hundred pounds each of pumpkins, carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and onions.

By nine o'clock after breakfast, I started stockpiling the main food staples. Rice, flour, pasta, and various oils cost less than ten thousand dollars.

But that would last me thirty years.

During the break, I wandered into the seasonings section, buying three thousand pounds of salt.

Without enough salt in the apocalypse, you wouldn't make it for three days.

In my previous life, I had seen someone trade a bag of salt for thirty pounds of grain.

Three thousand pounds don't take up much space, and in the later stages of a disaster, they become hard currency.

I found an unmonitored corner to collect everything in my storage space.

At the frozen goods section, I bought all sorts of breads and snacks, spending over ten thousand dollars.

When I got to the meat section, I found the vendor I used to know.

Marco Ruiz, the owner of Ruiz Kitchen, greeted me with a smile. "Hey, Evelyn. What can I get you?"

With a Category 5 hurricane approaching, it was unbearably hot. There wasn't much meat left on his stall, and even less fresh at this hour, but the prices were fair.

I asked for a lot of different meats, including over a dozen turkeys.

His eyes widened. "You're serious?"

His wife worked at a meat processing plant, and I had introduced several clients to her, earning commissions.

"I'm throwing a barbecue. Cheap cuts are fine."

"For you? I'll take thirty percent off the whole order."

That came out to around three thousand dollars.

I didn't haggle, but I did ask for two cleavers and a butcher knife.

After buying fish and eggs, I went to GreenSprout Seeds.

All sorts of vegetables with short growth cycles: lettuce, spinach, kale, and more—dozens in total.

With only one hundred square feet of black soil, but two balconies to use, my gardening instincts were awakened. I bought pots, shovels, spades, and potting soil.

Meat was a consumable, and as disaster dragged on, even rich people wouldn't have fresh meat.

I bought a pair of breeding rabbits.

They could be fed with greens and bred quickly enough to meet the demand for meat.

I spent the whole day at the market, spending money like it was water.

It hurt, but seeing how my storage space filled up made me feel a mix of satisfaction and confidence.

When I left, the streets were brightly lit and bustling.

The best part of my life had just begun.

I went to a restaurant and enjoyed a nice meal before heading home to organize my storage space.

I kept an eye on the timer, making sure to exit the storage space in ten minutes.

Just as I got my footing, two rabbits were kicked out and landed with a thud, nearly dead.

Turns out the space wasn't just limited by time; any living beings couldn't stay in it if I wasn't there. This meant no one could take away my storage space.

My mood lifted immediately. I sat down to make sure everything was covered. I bought everything on my list until my account balance hit around $20,000.

Now, my space only had the living room and bathroom.

At that moment, the workers for the doors and windows arrived.

"You already have a security door," one of the installers said.

"I want a stronger one. We've had break-ins nearby."

He looked confused. "This lock is serious. We'll have to drill into the ceiling and floor. You sure?"

"Do it. I care more about being safe."

In less than two hours, the doors and windows were all installed. After settling the final payment, I felt relieved as I surveyed my now fortress-like apartment.

I took off my jacket and put everything I’d bought today into my storage space, one by one.

The timer had only a few minutes left. I exited the storage space early.

After I showered, I sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through my phone.

School cancellation notices, supermarket panic-buying videos…

I scrolled past them one by one. The world was still running as usual. No one really realized what was coming next.

I was about to turn off the screen when a tweet from yesterday loaded at the top.

It was Tamara.

The photo was a selfie of her and Hans, sitting in the living room of my old house. The caption read: “New home, new life. Thanks, darling.”

I stared at the photo, my nails almost digging into my palms.

That was my house.

My life.

I turned off the screen and lay in the dark with my eyes open.

Tomorrow was Hans’s birthday.

I had a feeling he would come looking for me.

And I was ready.