Rain slapped against the windows like it had a personal grudge. Jared Lin sat on the edge of the hotel bed, dressed in an ill-fitting tuxedo that wasn’t even his. His shoes were borrowed, the collar too tight, and the smile he’d worn at the wedding a few hours ago had already vanished.The room still smelled like roses — fake ones, plastic and perfume-heavy — leftovers from the Bai family’s low-budget wedding reception. But no one cared. Not really. Least of all his new wife, Elena Bai, who hadn’t looked him in the eye once since they said “I do.”“You’re still sitting here?” Her voice came from the bathroom doorway, cold as the marble floor beneath his feet. “Aren’t you going to take the trash out before you sleep in it?”Jared didn’t flinch. He just looked at her. So beautiful. So sharp.In his past life, he would’ve done anything for her. He had. He’d taken a bullet for her. Shielded her from a monster. Died trying to save her family — the same family that never stopped calling him

The city buzzed around him as Jared waited for the bus back to the central district. He could’ve called a cab, but he didn’t. Not yet. Every naira counted now.The auction had left him with nothing in his wallet, but in his mind? He had more power than any of them could imagine. Elena’s voice still echoed in his head — “Just don’t come back empty-handed.”He hadn’t. She just wouldn’t see it yet.The bus pulled up, brakes squealing, and Jared climbed on. No one paid him any attention. He liked it that way. That’s how all great rises began — in silence.By the time he reached the Bai family residence, the sun had started its descent. Long shadows stretched across the marble floors as he walked in.He’d barely shut the door behind him when he heard the voice.“You’re late.”It was Bai Cheng. Sitting in the lounge with a glass of wine, his expression tight with annoyance.Jared didn’t slow his steps. “I said I’d check the warehouse. I did.”“It’s not about the warehouse,” Bai Cheng snappe

It started with a scream.Not the kind of scream you hear in a movie—sharp and dramatic—but the raw kind. The kind that came from something primal. Fear. Pain. Confusion. Jared was just waking up when it pierced the air.For a second, he forgot where he was.Then his eyes adjusted to the room: bare walls, creaky fan, a cheap curtain dancing in the wind. The Bai family’s spare room—still the place he called home, even if everyone in it hated that fact.The scream came again. Closer this time.Jared got up quickly and grabbed the cloth-wrapped pistol from under the mattress. He didn’t know what he expected, but his gut had been twisting since the system pinged him again just before dawn.[System Alert: Warning—first signs of breakdown detected.]Breakdown.He remembered the word. In his first life, it had started the same way. Cities crumbling from the inside. One crack at a time. People thought it was madness. Then hunger. Then war. But it wasn’t. It was something deeper, older, and pl

The SUV’s engine rumbled low and steady like a warning growl. Jared stood beside it for a moment, listening, testing—every gear, every turn, every tremor in the machine. It wasn’t perfect. It wouldn’t outrun an explosion. But it would move, and in the days ahead, that was enough.He wiped his hands clean, though the grease clung to his fingers like guilt. The garage lights flickered. Another surge. The city’s power grid was failing in waves now, and no one was fixing it.[Time Remaining: 68 hrs 42 mins][Objective Update: Gather Med Supplies – In Progress]The system had gone quiet after that, no new prompts. No help. Just a countdown.He turned back toward the house.A sharp voice echoed through the halls upstairs—Mrs. Bai, again, her shrill tone cutting through silence like shattered glass.“You’re saying we can’t get through to the warehouse? What do you mean gone dark? Are you telling me the entire eastern district shut down and no one knows why?”Jared climbed the steps slowly, e

They reached Echo Ridge just before sunset. The cabin sat at the top of a narrow gravel road, shrouded by thick pine trees and jagged cliffs on either side. To Mei, it looked like something out of a forgotten survival manual—modest, solid, a little crooked with age, but hidden well.Jared cut the engine and sat still for a second. His eyes swept the treeline like they always had before he approached any shelter—measured, alert. You didn’t survive as long as he had by assuming any place was truly empty.Mei leaned forward. “This is yours?”He nodded. “I built it after I left the service. Never brought anyone here.”“Why not?”“Because this was the only place in the world that was mine.”The wind picked up. It carried the faint scent of pine needles and distant smoke. Mei wrapped her arms around herself as they stepped out of the SUV. The air felt colder here—sharper.Jared led the way to the front door, keys already in hand. He paused as he reached for the knob.The door was slightly a