Reborn Three Days Before the Apocalypse

Chapter 7

Ethan didn't hesitate. He blocked Claire immediately.

Less than a minute later, his phone rang again.

It was an unfamiliar number.

He didn't need to guess who was calling. It was probably one of Claire's classmates or one of Marcus's friends.

Given a second chance at life, Ethan had zero interest in being made a fool again. He wasn't going to give anyone a single grain of food.

He powered off his phone.

Poppy had fallen asleep on the couch, curled into a tight ball, her breathing still uneasy.

Ethan checked her temperature. It had dropped to just over 100°F.

With Poppy staying here, he couldn't continue cooking openly. In times like this, showing too much wealth was dangerous.

He ate the clumped chicken noodle soup from earlier and, strangely enough, found it tasted better than expected.

The balcony had an emergency window, while the other windows were covered with frosted film. Light could enter, but nobody outside could see what was happening inside.

Ethan took out planting pots and soil. He pulled several pounds of potatoes from his storage, cut the sprouting ones into pieces, dusted the cut surfaces with ash, and planted them.

He prepared around twenty pots and moved them onto the balcony.

Next came garlic, green onions, lettuce, spinach, and several other fast-growing vegetables. He hung some of the pots from hooks along the metal railing.

With proper care, fresh vegetables wouldn't be a problem.

Ethan hadn't even finished washing his hands when loud knocking suddenly slammed against his door.

“Ethan! Ethan!”

The voice was unfamiliar.

If he had to guess, they were probably Marcus's classmates.

Ethan almost laughed.

They must have been starving.

“Ethan, you're always cooking! Can you spare us something?”

“We'll buy it from you! Double the price! No, five times!”

“Just accept the friend request! I'll transfer the money right now!”

“Come on, we're all friends! We'll see each other again. Do you really have to be this heartless?”

Even with two stainless-steel doors between them, the noise was irritating. Their voices grew increasingly desperate, until someone finally kicked the door.

Ethan grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter, yanked the door open, and brought the blade down hard.

“Who kicked my door?”

Three young men stood outside. Their initial relief disappeared when they saw the knife.

They had known Ethan for some time and were aware that he had been close to Marcus. Surely he wouldn't let people from Marcus's birthday party starve.

They had finished all the snacks the night before. There had been no breakfast or lunch, and the leftover beer had only made their hunger worse.

Marcus had always described Ethan as strange for stockpiling food. He had mocked Ethan for preparing like an old man, claiming he probably had food rotting in his apartment because he bought too much.

They had laughed about him plenty of times.

None of them had expected his strange habit to become useful so quickly.

“Ethan, are you crazy?”

Ethan blocked the doorway, his eyes cold.

“Get lost. I don't have shameless sons like you.”

They stared at him in disbelief.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm not your father,” Ethan said, pointing the knife at them. “Why should I feed you? Kick my door again, and I'll chop you up and serve you with your beer.”

Ethan had survived three years of hell in his previous life. He had fought, killed, and witnessed just how ugly people could become when survival was at stake.

The killing intent in his eyes was real.

The three men felt their scalps tingle.

“W-We’re friends, right? And we're paying.”

“Even if I had food to spare, I'd rather feed it to a dog than give it to you.” Ethan's gaze swept across them. “You think I didn't hear how you talked about me? If you looked down on me so much, don't come begging after missing two meals. Where did your backbone go?”

Their faces flushed with anger and humiliation.

“Tell Marcus to stop pretending he's too proud to ask me for help while sending you people to beg for food,” Ethan said coldly. “Living off others while pretending you're above them is pathetic. Try this again, and I'll post everything in the neighborhood group. Let's see how much dignity he has left.”

“You've got some nerve!”

They glared at him, but none dared move closer.

It had only been two missed meals, and they still cared about their reputation. Besides, Ethan looked genuinely unhinged with a knife in his hand.

“You'd better watch your back!”

They retreated hurriedly.

Ethan said nothing.

Instead, he slammed the knife into the wall beside them.

That was enough.

The three men turned and bolted.

Ethan closed the door and turned around.

Poppy was awake.

Tears trembled in her eyes, but she didn't dare cry. Her small body shook as she stared at him from the couch.

Something about the child felt wrong.

It was as though she had been frightened and hurt far too many times already.

Ethan put the knife away and softened his voice.

“It's okay. Those were bad people. I chased them away.”

He touched Poppy's forehead.

The fever was gone.

Then her stomach growled.

“Are you hungry?”

Poppy nodded, then quickly shook her head.

“Where's my brother?”

The young man from Unit 1801 still hadn't returned.

Ethan used cooking as an excuse and brought out a plate of spaghetti with meatballs from his storage space.

Poppy was starving.

She ate quickly while sneaking nervous glances at Ethan, as though afraid he might suddenly become angry with her.

She was extremely sensitive.

Ethan suspected she had lived through a difficult home life.

He gently rubbed her head and handed her a lollipop.

“Thank you.”

Poppy curled up quietly on the couch.

Ethan checked his phone again.

The neighborhood group was filled with messages, and one immediately caught his attention.

Marcus was asking for help.

Marcus had always been friendly and popular, with the kind of appearance and personality that made people naturally gather around him. Many students rented apartments in Crownview Residences, so once he spoke up, replies appeared almost immediately.

[I've got bread and instant mac-and-cheese. If you need some, come grab it.]

Ethan tapped the girl's profile.

She lived on the twelfth floor and, if he remembered correctly, was an accounting student. She was petite and pretty, with a soft, delicate appearance. Like many other girls at school, she had always stayed close to Marcus.

Both sides knew what they were getting into.

Ethan couldn't care less.

But the girl probably didn't realize Marcus wouldn't be the only person coming for her food. Once word spread, an entire group would show up. They would eat everything they could find and leave nothing behind.

Ethan remembered seeing her carry groceries before. She probably cooked regularly and had a decent amount of supplies.

If she realized what was happening after being drained once or twice, she might still have time to cut her losses.

After thinking for a moment, Ethan sent a message to the group saying he was hungry.

No one replied.

He tried again, offering four dollars for instant noodles or bread.

Still nothing.

Outside, Orion continued raging.

Windows shattered in the neighboring building as violent winds tore through the apartments. Floodwater climbed higher and higher, swallowing more of the city with every passing hour.

It really was a once-in-a-century storm.

The group chat gradually became quiet. The excitement from that morning had disappeared completely.

Poppy fell asleep again, and Ethan pulled a blanket over her.

Then came a series of steady knocks.

A familiar voice followed.

“Poppy.”

Ethan recognized it immediately and opened the door.

The young man from Unit 1801 stood outside in a raincoat, completely soaked. In his hand was the note Ethan had left on his door.

“Is Poppy with you?”

Ethan nodded.

“She caught a cold and developed a high fever. She cried until she vomited and nearly choked. I gave her medicine, and her fever has gone down. Just keep giving her the cold medicine.”

The man's expression changed.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Not really. I just know some basics.”

He stepped inside and touched Poppy's forehead.

Ethan expected him to take her and leave.

Instead, the man hesitated before speaking.

“Sorry to bother you. My name is Zeph Dawson. I just moved in last night, and I have nothing at home. The storm doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon. I need to go get supplies.”

He glanced at Poppy.

“Can she stay with you for a while? I'll come back for her tonight.”

Ethan frowned.

“You're going out in this weather?”