When the Zombie Horde Came, I Built the Ultimate Shelter

At our father’s funeral, Sharon Shaw cried so hard her face was streaked with tears and mucus.

“I don’t care about the inheritance. I just want Dad’s tiny convenience store, so I can hold on to the roots he came from.”

She sounded so sincere that even the relatives attending the funeral had red eyes by the end of it.

One after another, they praised Sharon for being such a devoted daughter.

But when they looked at me, their eyes were filled with contempt, saying my sister generously gave me the multimillion-dollar inheritance and the estate, yet I showed no gratitude at all.

They wondered how the Shaw family had produced such an ungrateful brat.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Sharon didn’t genuinely want the convenience store.

She only knew that in one month, a zombie virus would sweep across the globe.

By then, money would be worthless, while the supplies inside that tiny store would become the key to survival.

But what Sharon didn’t know was that in the apocalypse, having supplies meant nothing.

The real challenge was keeping them in your hands.

Everyone would be watching our resources like starving wolves.

Without the strength to hold on to our supplies, we were as good as dead.

Once the funeral ended, Sharon instantly dropped the grief-stricken act.

A mocking smile curled at her lips, as if she were silently telling me that this time, in the apocalypse, she would be the one lounging around eating snacks and drinking soda while watching others struggle to survive.

I remained expressionless, pretending not to notice the provocation in her eyes.

There was only one month left before the apocalypse arrived. I had no time to waste watching her schemes.

In my previous life, I only thought the convenience store Dad left behind looked too old and run-down to attract customers, so I hired people to renovate it according to my design, reinforcing it with steel and concrete.

I never expected a zombie outbreak to happen afterward.

That tiny convenience store became unbelievably sturdy after the renovations, turning into my warm sanctuary in the apocalypse.

Back then, I managed to build a temporary shelter with only limited funds.

Now, I had millions sitting in my bank account.

But even that wasn’t enough.

I contacted a furniture marketplace and asked them to come appraise everything inside the estate.

I didn’t care about bargaining.

My only requirement was that every piece of furniture I didn’t need had to be sold and converted into cash by the end of the day.

The moment the money hit my account, I immediately contacted a friend who used to handle security at a military base before starting his own elite residential defense consulting firm.

His team and I worked together to renovate the estate, filling in all the details I might have overlooked.

At my request, the pointed iron fencing surrounding the property was torn out completely and replaced with towering walls at least fifty feet high.

Stairways were built along the inner side, perfect for long-range defense positions.