With the gun deal in the works, Ethan finally felt a sense of relief.
In the apocalypse, having a weapon meant power—whether against monsters or desperate people.
The next morning, Ethan packed up all his valuables into his spatial storage.
Since his home was about to be transformed into a fortress, he planned to live in a hotel for the time being.
At dawn, three black vans rolled into his apartment complex.
Dozens of workers from Ironshield Security poured out, in full uniforms, ready to begin structural measurements.
Neighbors watched from balconies and stairwells, murmuring in confusion.
"What's wrong with Ethan lately? He's been acting weird."
"Right? I saw him at the supermarket last week. Bought three carts full of food!"
"He thinks it's the end of the world or something? That stuff's gonna expire, idiot."
"Maybe he's cracked…"
No one took it seriously.They thought he was just some harmless lunatic.
Even Rachel Whitmore and Ashley Monroe figured Ethan had lost it.
"Ohhh," Ashley said with a laugh. "That explains the fine dining the other night. He's snapped."
Rachel frowned, visibly annoyed.
She still remembered offering to help him push carts—practically humiliating herself for a guy she now suspected was just plain crazy.
"What the hell is he up to?"
Ashley looked worried. "He did promise us a fancy dinner. Think he's gonna bail?"
Rachel scoffed."Forget it. The guy's clearly unstable. Even if he invited me, I wouldn't go."
"What if people saw us eating with him? That would kill my reputation."
Her dream of landing a rich husband didn't allow for association with weirdos.
Ashley sighed and let it go.
Ethan couldn't care less what they thought.
In a month, they'd all know who the real fool was.
He left the complex and headed toward Walmart's central warehouse.
It was Monday—technically a workday.
He figured he'd use the opportunity to scout.
The warehouse was located in Oceanview's outer industrial zone—an area packed with distribution centers from all the city's major corporations.
Pharmaceutical warehouses, too.
Which meant he'd soon be able to snag rare medical supplies along with everything else.
He clocked in as usual.
As warehouse supervisor, Ethan knew this place like the back of his hand.
Every aisle. Every shelf. Every security camera.
In the past, this place bored him.
Today?It was a treasure vault.
All of it—soon to be his.
Walmart's South Region Mega Warehouse was massive.
Millions of square feet.Tens of billions in inventory.
Tens of thousands of crates of soda alone.
Mountains of canned food, clothes, tools, survival gear.
Even cars, drones, diesel generators, and barrels of gasoline.
If it was legal to sell at Walmart, it was here.
And Ethan? He had every shelf memorized.
He also knew every guard shift, every blind spot.
The cameras were extensive—But give him ten minutes and he could shut the whole system down.
Then it'd just be him… and everything inside.
But not yet.
It wasn't time.
He didn't want to tip anyone off.
After a leisurely walk through the facility, he stepped out and headed across the lot to the neighboring Renex Pharma warehouse.
Ethan lit a cigarette and walked into the pharmaceutical compound.
He was friendly with their warehouse staff—years of working nearby had built connections.
He found Harvey Zhou, one of Renex's floor managers.
Harvey was well-connected; his brother-in-law was a VP at the parent company.
And everyone knew Harvey skimmed product for side deals.
Ethan struck up a casual conversation, then subtly steered toward his real goal:
Specialist medication—anything for emergencies.
Harvey raised an eyebrow at first.But when Ethan offered double market price?
That did it.
They shook hands on a deal:Five crates of critical meds—for $450,000.
Done.
With that, Ethan's apocalypse supply list was nearly complete.
Less than a month remained.
He wasn't going to waste time pretending to work.
He visited the manager's office and claimed a family emergency.
"My great-uncle passed. I need three weeks to go home for the funeral."
He was well-liked at work.The manager approved the leave without hesitation.
For the next few weeks, Ethan planned to live in comfort—at a five-star hotel, eating well and watching his plans unfold.
As he exited the building, he spotted Rachel by the coffee machine.
Bent over.Wiggling her hips as she poured her drink.
Typical.
She knew how to draw eyes.
Young men gathered nearby like moths to a flame.
One of them—Peter Zhao—was showing off concert tickets.
"Wanna see Jay Chou live next week?" he said with a grin, clearly trying to impress.
Ethan recognized him immediately.
Same complex.
Same guy.
And in his previous life?
Peter Zhao had been one of the people who helped murder him.