SORRY MISS CEO, YOUR BILLIONS ARE USELESS!

Chapter 6: The Ex-Crush, the Toilet Brush, and Senior Maid Privilege

    The next morning, the bunker smelled like heaven. Specifically, it smelled like premium, freshly ground Arabica coffee.

   Rangga sat at his plastic folding table, taking a slow sip from a proper ceramic mug. He sighed in pure bliss. Across the room, Zahara was aggressively pinning a pair of faded Batman boxers to the indoor drying rack. She still looked like a disgruntled teenager in her oversized REBAHAN 4 LYFE t-shirt, but she was actually doing the chores without threatening to murder him. Character development.

"Host, you have 3500 System Points sitting in your account," the System’s voice chimed in his head. "What is this, a savings account? Spend it! Upgrade the bunker! An empty bank account builds character!"

Rangga pulled up the green holographic interface.

"Alright, let's see what we can afford," Rangga muttered. "I'm tired of eating instant noodles on a plastic chair."

He scrolled through the [BASE UPGRADES] menu. His eyes landed on a mid-tier option.

[UPGRADE: Level 1 Culinary Station & Expansion] [Cost: 2500 Points] [Description: Pushes the eastern wall back by ten feet. Installs a fully functioning modern kitchenette, a two-door smart fridge (auto-stocked with basic perishables weekly), and a dining table. Because surviving the apocalypse doesn't mean eating like a peasant.]

"Purchase," Rangga said, tapping the floating button.

The bunker rumbled. Zahara jumped, dropping a wet sock. "What now?! Is Rizal back with a tank?!"

"Relax. Renovation time," Rangga said, pointing his coffee mug at the right-side wall.

Right before Zahara's eyes, the solid titanium wall seemingly liquified, sliding backward to expand the room. Within seconds, sleek black countertops emerged from the floor, followed by an induction stove, a stainless-steel sink, and a massive, glowing smart fridge. A neat wooden dining table with two comfortable chairs materialized in the center.

Zahara’s jaw dropped. She walked over to the fridge and pulled the handle. A blast of cold air hit her face. Inside, neatly organized, were cartons of milk, eggs, fresh vegetables, and vacuum-sealed chicken breasts.

She turned to Rangga, her eyes wide. "How... how did you do this? This violates every law of physics."

"Don't question the magic of a good landlord, Ms. Nasution," Rangga smirked. "Now you have a proper kitchen to cook my breakfast."

Zahara’s awe instantly vanished, replaced by a deep scowl. "I am a CEO, not a personal chef."

"You were a CEO," Rangga corrected. "Now, you're the only person standing between me and a scrambled egg. Get crackin'."

Before Zahara could throw a carton of eggs at his head, the bunker's external proximity alarm blared. A red light flashed ovet

[SYSTEM ALERT: SURVIVOR DETECTED. INCOMING FAST.]

Rangga swiped his hand, bringing up the external CCTV feed.

A young woman was sprinting down the ruined street, her breath visible in the morning air. She was wearing a torn, glittery crop top, designer yoga pants, and holding a knock-off Gucci bag over her head like a shield. About fifty yards behind her, three infected were giving chase, their unnatural shrieks echoing down the block.

Rangga narrowed his eyes. The woman looked familiar. Too familiar.

"Is that... Siska?" Rangga muttered.

"You know her?" Zahara asked, walking over to look at the screen. She crossed her arms, instantly judging the girl’s outfit. "Yoga pants during an apocalypse? She’s practically a walking buffet."

"Siska Rambe," Rangga sighed, rubbing his temples. "She rented room number 4 in the old building. She’s a 'freelance model' who was always late on rent. She used to bat her eyelashes and call me 'Abang' whenever I asked for the money, then complain on I*******m that her landlord was a toxic creep."

"Ah, the classic succubus variant," the System chuckled. "Host, are we letting the parasite in? I can power up the roof turrets and turn her into confetti if you want."

"No turrets," Rangga said. "Ammo is expensive. And besides... we need someone to clean the bathrooms."

On the screen, Siska reached the heavy steel blast doors of the bunker. She pounded on them frantically with her manicured fists.

"Help! Someone open up!" she screamed, looking back at the zombies closing the distance. "Rangga! I know this is your place! I saw the crazy guns yesterday! Please, open the door!"

Rangga pressed the intercom button. His voice boomed outside. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Siska. Rent was due three days ago."

  Siska flinched, looking up at the camera. "Rangga?! Oh my god, thank God! Please, let me in! I'm sorry about the rent! I'll pay you double! I'll... I'll go on a date with you! Just open the door!"

Zahara snorted loudly beside him. "A date? Is that the going rate for a human life these days?"

"Apparently," Rangga rolled his eyes. He hit the button again. "Sorry, Siska. The 'simp' era ended when the world did. But, I do have a vacancy for a junior custodian."

"Anything! I'll do anything!" she shrieked, as the zombies closed the gap to twenty yards.

Rangga pressed a sequence on the console. The outer door slid open just enough for Siska to squeeze through before slamming shut with a bone-rattling CLANG, chopping the leading zombie's reaching arm clean off.

Siska collapsed into the sterilization chamber. The sanitizing mist sprayed her from all directions, leaving her coughing and smelling like industrial lemon bleach.

The inner door hissed open.

Siska crawled out onto the polished concrete floor, shivering and gasping for air. She looked up, expecting to see Rangga rushing to help her up, maybe offering her a blanket and a hot cup of tea.

Instead, she saw Rangga sitting backward on a plastic chair, sipping coffee. Standing next to him was a stunningly beautiful woman with an icy, intimidating aura, despite wearing a ridiculous, oversized t-shirt.

Siska got to her feet, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as she brushed off her ruined yoga pants. She looked at Zahara, her eyes narrowing with instant, petty jealousy.

"Who is she?" Siska demanded, looking at Rangga. Her tone shifted from desperate survivor back to entitled diva in record time. "Your new flavor of the month? Really, Rangga? I come here traumatized, and you're shacked up with some... some random chick?"

The temperature in the bunker seemed to drop by ten degrees.

Zahara slowly walked toward Siska. Every step she took radiated pure, terrifying CEO energy. Even in sweatpants, she looked like a predator circling a very stupid rabbit.

"Random chick?" Zahara’s voice was dangerously soft.

Siska took a step back, suddenly feeling very small. "Yeah. I mean, I'm his actual tenant. You're just... whatever."

Zahara stopped two feet away from Siska. She looked the younger girl up and down, her expression a mix of pity and absolute disdain.

"Listen to me very carefully, you little glitter-covered nuisance," Zahara whispered, her eyes locking onto Siska's. "My name is Zahara Nasution. Two days ago, I could have bought your entire extended family and sold them for spare parts just because I was bored. Today, I am the Senior Maid of this bunker. I fought an RPG, I survived a horde, and I washed that man's cartoon underwear with my bare hands to earn my place here."

Siska swallowed hard. She looked like she wanted to cry.

Zahara leaned in closer. "So if you think you can waltz in here and act like you own the place, you are sorely mistaken. You are at the bottom of the food chain. You belong to me now."

[DING!] [NEW TITLE UNLOCKED FOR ZAHARA: 'HEAD MAID / DOMESTIC ENFORCER'] [AUTHORITY LEVEL INCREASED!]

Rangga had to bite his lip so hard it almost bled to stop himself from bursting into laughter. Zahara was actually flexing her maid status to assert dominance. It was the most absurd, glorious thing he had ever seen.

Rangga stood up, walking over to the storage locker. He pulled out a long-handled, stiff-bristled toilet brush and a bottle of heavy-duty porcelain cleaner.

He walked over to Siska, who was still paralyzed by Zahara's death glare, and shoved the items into her hands.

"Welcome to Kos Pusako, Siska," Rangga smiled warmly. "Your rent is due. The bathroom is down the hall. Make sure the bowl shines, or Zahara won't let you have any of the eggs."

Siska looked at the toilet brush, then at Zahara's terrifying smirk, and finally at Rangga's cheerful face.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The apocalypse wasn't just zombies. The apocalypse was being managed by a ruthless landlord and his mafia-boss head maid.

"I hate it here," Siska whimpered.

"Oh, this is going to be good television," the System cackled in Rangga's head. "Setting timer for bathroom inspection in thirty minutes!"