If Ethan wanted rare, high-quality wood, he wasn’t going to find it in shopping malls or ordinary office buildings. Most museums were probably underwater by now anyway.But there was one place worth checking.Westbridge was one of the largest furniture-manufacturing hubs in the world. About twenty-five miles outside the city, in Fairfield, stood a massive international furniture convention center. Every year, it hosted a global furniture expo that attracted manufacturers and collectors from all over the world.This year had been different.It was the expo’s thirtieth anniversary, and the event had been bigger than ever. Advertisements had been running for months, promising an extraordinary showcase of traditional and modern craftsmanship.Then Ethan suddenly remembered something.The expo had been scheduled to begin three days before the typhoon arrived.Which meant it hadn’t ended.Furniture from all over the world had been gathered in one place.Ethan wasn’t interested in most of it

Ethan slammed the throttle forward and cut sharply into a drifting turn.The boat rocked violently beneath him, nearly throwing him overboard.He steadied himself just in time, gripping the controls tightly as he adjusted his balance. After making a wide arc through the current, he finally managed to clear the dangerous section and reach the convention center.The building was only twelve floors tall, but each floor was unusually high, giving the entire structure a massive and imposing presence.Ethan slowly circled it.There were no signs of people.No broken windows.No boats tied nearby.Nothing suggested that anyone had been there before him.Fairfield had been built around furniture manufacturing. Most of the surrounding area was occupied by factories, warehouses, and industrial facilities. Residential and commercial districts existed across the river, but the storm had completely swallowed them.As far as Ethan could see, there was nothing but water.The convention center stood

Ethan pried open the maintenance storage area and finally found what he had been looking for.Diesel.One of the rooms was packed with fuel drums, each holding roughly forty-two gallons. There were thirty drums in total, giving him approximately 1,260 gallons of diesel, or around four and a half tons.But Ethan wasn’t satisfied.With an international furniture expo taking place and a once-in-a-century typhoon hitting at almost the same time, there was no way the convention center would have prepared for emergencies with only that much fuel.He kept searching.Anywhere that looked like it could contain additional supplies, he forced his way inside.Sure enough, he discovered two more storage rooms.Both were packed with diesel.When everything was added together, he had roughly twelve tons of fuel.Ethan’s eyes lit up.Both his motorboat and the RV ran on diesel.This much fuel could keep them running for a very long time.He immediately swept every remaining drum into his storage spac

Ethan couldn’t make out what was happening clearly from that distance, so he pulled out his binoculars.The scene immediately came into focus.Two inflatable rafts were floating beside Crownview Residences. Several men and women stood packed onto them, gripping wooden poles, metal rods, and whatever other makeshift weapons they could find. They were repeatedly swinging at something on the ledge of a fifth-floor apartment.Ethan adjusted the binoculars.A dog.The poor animal was soaked from head to toe, its fur plastered against its thin body. It was trapped on the narrow ledge with nowhere to run. Its teeth were bared, its body trembling as it snarled and barked at the people surrounding it.“Come on! Kill it!”“We’ll have meat tonight!”The group was excited.They shouted and laughed as they tried to corner the animal, raising their weapons and striking whenever they got close enough.The dog kept dodging.It scrambled from one end of the ledge to the other, slipping on the wet conc

The moment Ethan stepped into the building, someone spotted the dog.The reaction was immediate.Hunger had stripped away whatever hesitation people might once have had.“A dog…”“That’s meat.”“Kill it. We can cook it.”Cola’s fur immediately bristled.He lowered his body, muscles tightening beneath his scarred coat. His lips pulled back, exposing his teeth as a deep growl rolled through his chest.His eyes were sharp and alert, ready to attack anyone who came too close.Ethan stepped in front of him and drew his knife.“Anyone who wants to eat my dog can step forward.”The hallway fell silent.For a moment, nobody moved.Since when had Ethan gotten a dog?People exchanged uncomfortable looks.They barely had enough food to survive themselves, yet Ethan was feeding a dog?He was actually willing to waste precious food on an animal while people were starving?The resentment spread quickly.“That’s not his dog. It’s a stray.”One of the residents pointed toward Cola.“I’ve seen it hang