Of course, with looks like hers, how could she not have a boyfriend? The guy standing next to her was the typical rich playboy—tall, handsome, and the type who drove a Porsche 718 just to pick up groceries.
"Let's go, Angela. We've still got half a barrel of water at home," Mick said, dismissively waving a hand at the rain. "This won't last long."
Angela's face was pale, her nerves fraying under the tension. She managed a quiet nod, glancing briefly at Cassius before following her boyfriend upstairs.
Cassius chuckled to himself. "Even scheming bastards have their own entertainment value."
He returned to his apartment and casually opened TikTok—only to find it shut down. In fact, all major apps were offline. He switched to the apartment complex's group chat and wasn't disappointed. The chat was on fire, filled with complaints, accusations, and panic.
That night, no one got any sleep. Everyone hoped the rain would stop soon, but it didn't.
The second day. The third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth.
The rain kept falling.
By night, the complex was haunted by distant sounds—glass breaking, metal crashing, followed by eerie, agonizing screams. The atmosphere was suffocating, as if the very air was conspiring to drive everyone mad.
Cassius, however, didn't care. He locked himself in, feasting on gourmet meals courtesy of his Infinite System. Let the rain fall. Once it's over, I'll find myself a nice mansion to settle in.
On the seventh day, he finally decided to venture out. Word had spread that all trading within the complex was taking place in the underground parking garage.
As the elevator doors slid open, the noise hit him like a wave. The entire garage had been transformed into a chaotic marketplace. Women were trading designer handbags and makeup for food. Men brought out luxury watches and even high-end tech gear. One guy had hauled in his gaming PC, offering it in exchange for water.
"Hermès summer collection—trading for a case of mineral water!"
"Rolex Submariner—four bottles of water! Don't miss this deal!"
Cassius watched in amazement as the PC quickly sold for five bottles of water and a small bag of chips.
"That setup must've cost at least forty grand," Cassius muttered under his breath. "All gone for some snacks and water."
For now, the trades were civil. But Cassius knew the calm wouldn't last. In a few days, deals would be made at knife-point instead of with friendly negotiations.
His gaze wandered until he spotted a familiar face—Maisie, the influencer neighbor, running a small stall selling cosmetics. Cassius smirked, casually uncapping a bottle of water as he approached.
Maisie noticed him immediately. Her expression grew tense, her gaze fixated on the water in his hand. He's got food and water, I know it, she thought, her thirst gnawing at her resolve.
Cassius said nothing, savoring a long, slow sip. Maisie averted her eyes, though it was clear her craving had already taken root.
A short distance away, Cassius caught sight of Angela. With her stunning looks, her stall was swarmed by men. The atmosphere around her, however, quickly turned predatory.
"Hey, pretty girl. Spend the night with me, and this bottle of water's yours," one man said with a grin.
"Pfft. I'll give you two bottles," another chimed in.
"Three!"
Angela's face burned with fury. "You disgusting pigs!" she spat, hastily packing up her items. She shot Cassius a fierce glare as she stormed toward the elevators.
One of the men scoffed. "Acting all high and mighty. Bet she wouldn't say no in the Red Zone."
Cassius watched quietly, an amused glint in his eyes. The apocalypse was peeling back every layer of civility, and soon enough, the world would see people for who they really were. Weakness and beauty are both liabilities now. She'll learn that soon enough.
"Heh, I'll offer two bottles of water."
"Three!" another man shouted.
The impromptu bidding war escalated quickly, leaving Angela fuming. Her face turned red as rage boiled over.
"Disgusting!" she spat, hurriedly packing up her stall. She stormed toward the elevator, even throwing an angry glare in Cassius's direction for good measure.
One of the men snickered. "What's she acting all high and mighty for? Bet she'd be singing a different tune in the Red Zone."
Red Zone? Cassius frowned, scanning the area. His eyes landed on the so-called Red Zone—a section dimly lit by a flashing alarm light. Around it loitered a group of scantily clad women, their heavy makeup doing little to mask their desperation. Cassius couldn't help but grimace. Their quality was... underwhelming, to say the least.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. Heavy footsteps echoed across the garage, sending a ripple of tension through the crowd.
A gang of over twenty young men swaggered into view. Their leader was a hulking brute with a scarred face and tattooed arms, radiating menace. The thugs behind him carried steel pipes and knives, their eyes filled with cruel delight.
The bustling market fell silent, a collective fear seizing the air.
"Take everything," the leader barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
His men charged forward with sadistic grins.
"Don't touch my stuff!" a vendor shouted in panic.
"Try it, and you'll die!" another man yelled, swinging a fist—only to be struck down with a pained scream.
The gang leader chuckled coldly. "Hand over your supplies and save yourselves some pain."
A defiant older man, probably in his fifties, stepped forward and shouted, "Is there no law anymore? Robbery in broad daylight?!"
The leader sneered, his eyes narrowing. "Law? I am the law. Name's Mallory, and this is my kingdom." He turned to one of his men. "Break his leg."
CRACK!
The sickening sound of bone snapping echoed through the garage, silencing any thoughts of resistance. The crowd froze, eyes wide with fear. No one dared make another move. Slowly, trembling hands began handing over whatever supplies they had.
"Those women over there—bring them to me," Mallory ordered, nodding toward the Red Zone. His lips curled into a twisted grin. His thugs chuckled, clearly reveling in the chaos of the new world. Most of the residents were paralyzed by fear, but Mallory's gang thrived in it.
They came fast and left just as quickly, leaving the garage in disarray. The moment they were gone, the men left behind erupted into frustrated complaints.
"Goddamn it! We barely had any supplies to begin with, and now those bastards took everything!"
"Why didn't anyone fight back, huh?"
"Oh, yeah? Why didn't you fight back? All you do is talk big!"
The argument escalated into finger-pointing and bitter insults. Cassius shook his head in disbelief. Pathetic. These people are already breaking down.
Just then, a bespectacled man with a calm demeanor stepped forward. He adjusted his glasses and spoke with authority.
"Listen up. Each building has a roll-up security gate on the ground floor. I suggest we seal off our building to prevent further raids. If we need to trade supplies, we can do so through the gaps in the gate."
The man's proposal quickly gained traction. Residents nodded in agreement, eager for any sense of security. Within minutes, they began lowering the gates and locking them in place with makeshift barriers. For now, they had a plan. But Cassius knew it wouldn't be enough. In the end, walls won't stop desperation.
The man's suggestion immediately gained approval. Without wasting a second, the residents pulled down the nearby roll-up gates and locked them in place with steel bars.
Seeing this, the people in neighboring buildings got the same idea. Their eyes lit up, and soon they were lowering their own gates. Within minutes, the entire complex's five apartment towers were isolated from each other.
"I have another proposal," the bespectacled man continued, his tone steady. "We need to unite. The men in this building should form search parties to gather supplies. We also need to be ready to defend ourselves from raiders."
Several men nodded, voicing their agreement. Cole clearly had a knack for leadership.
But Cassius had no interest in playing hero or working for anyone else. The world's ended, and you still expect me to work? What kind of idiot would do that?
Back on his floor, Cassius noticed someone crouched by his door—Maisie, the influencer neighbor. He smirked and teased, "So you were hiding out, huh?"
Maisie, who had wisely taken the stairs to avoid trouble earlier, shot him a cold glare. She wasn't the sharpest, but she knew how to dodge danger when it mattered.
"Do you have any water?" she asked abruptly, folding her arms.
Cassius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a playful grin. "And what does my water supply have to do with you?"
"Typical loser," Maisie huffed, her tone dripping with disdain. She opened her door and slammed it shut without another word.
Cassius chuckled softly. Loser, huh? Well, I am a loser. But now that the apocalypse is here, all I want is to live in peace. You don't bother me, and I won't bother you. Simple.
Three more days passed. The rain showed no signs of letting up. The five towers had splintered into five factions, each forming a shaky truce. That evening, Tower Three—Cassius's building—organized a meeting in the underground parking garage.
Cassius decided to attend. When he arrived, he saw the weariness etched on everyone's faces. Angela's lips were dry and cracked, and Maisie didn't look much better.
A bespectacled man climbed onto a car hood, holding a megaphone. "Attention, residents!" he announced. "My name's Cole. I used to be a corporate executive. Thanks for trusting me to take point on this."
He paused for a moment, scanning the tired faces around him.
"We've been in this crisis for over a week now. No rescue, no official updates—nothing. Our building's supplies are running low. Yesterday, some people from Tower Four risked going outside to scavenge. They lost one person but managed to bring back food."
The crowd murmured in agreement. Many of them had seen the news in the group chat. It was Mallory and his gang who'd made the run. They didn't have proper tires—just rims—and the vehicle struggled in the rain. One of their men had gotten a few drops on him and… well, he didn't make it.
Cole cleared his throat. "That's why I'm suggesting we organize a convoy to search for supplies."
His words hung in the air. No one spoke. The tension thickened as reality set in. This wasn't a job for the faint of heart. This was a mission that could get you killed.