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Chapter 1 Rebirth Beep! Beep! Beep! Kiara jolted upright, lungs burning, her breath coming hard and fast. The bedroom around her was both strange and familiar, sending a chill through her chest. I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? In her previous life, after enduring one extreme weather event after another, she was betrayed—bound in a mountain cave by her father and half-sister, who cruelly flayed her flesh to sustain themselves. The memory of her final moments was so vivid and horrifying that sweat drenched her back. The phone kept ringing. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand and pulled it out from under the pillow. Yara Sharp's name flashed across the screen. A shadow flickered in her gaze. She jabbed the button to reject her call sharply. She and Yara had a score to settle—one she would never forget. But then she froze, her eyes went wide. The date glared up at her from the screen—May 15, 2030, 2:29 p.m. Is this a dream? She pinched her arm hard. The sharp pain told her it was real. Kiara had been reborn—five years earlier, in the last quiet stretch before the end of the world. Kiara remembered the day perfectly. July 3rd, 2:49 a.m.—Joplor's dormant volcano, silent for three centuries, had erupted without warning. Lava poured for an entire week. An entire nation vanished. No one realized then that it was just the beginning. Soon after came the unbearable heat. Temperatures soared to 167°F and stayed there until October. Millions died. Then came the rain—torrential, endless. It was as if the sky had been torn open, dumping more water each day than the last. In less than a month, catastrophic flooding swallowed the great cities of the world, grinding modern civilization to a halt. When the rains finally stopped, the survivors barely had time to catch their breath before the deep freeze arrived—ice storms and blizzards that swept across the globe. And then ... earthquakes, hurricanes, sandstorms, tsunamis, glaciers collapsing into the sea—disaster after disaster, until most of humanity was gone. Those who remained could hardly still be called human. By her count, there were less than two months before the apocalypse began. Kiara forced herself into motion, heading to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. The woman staring back from the mirror had bright, clear eyes and flawless skin—a round, youthful face—completely unlike the hollow-eyed survivor worn down by years of relentless struggle in her past life. Her gaze dropped to the pendant at her neck—a Madonna pendant passed down from her grandmother. In her previous life, five years into the apocalypse, while fleeing another attempt on her life from Yara, her blood had accidentally stained the pendant's crystal inlay. She accidentally discovered its secret—inside was a storage space where time stood still. Crops could grow. Supplies never spoiled. Trapped in that cave as Yara's food supply, Kiara had thought a thousand times—if she could start over, she would make full use of that space. Without hesitation, she took a brow razor, nicked her finger, and let a drop of blood fall on the Madonna's face. After a flash of light, she heard the sound of running water. Before her appeared a gentle hillside of nearly 20 acres, covered in fertile fields. At its heart stood a two-story wooden lodge, sprawling over more than 50,000 square feet. She stepped inside the empty lodge and focused. With a faint whoosh, a massive four-door refrigerator appeared in the corner of the living room. Just like before. Only when dizziness hit her did she pull herself out of the space. Her nose felt wet. She dabbed it with a tissue—nosebleed. The space could hold living creatures, but intelligent beings suffered if they stayed inside too long. Nosebleeds, vertigo, weakness. In her last life, she'd died before finding a cure for those symptoms. This time, she would find a way. There was no time for sentiment. The clock was ticking. There was too much to do. She sat down at her desk, opened a blank document, and started typing. After five years of scavenging and trading to survive, she knew exactly which supplies would be the most precious. Seven pages of lists later, she reviewed, double-checked, and then scoured the web for more ideas. Three more pages followed before she finally leaned back. Then came the hard truth—how much money did she actually have? The answer made her want to cry. Once, she had been the proud landlord of three prime high-rise buildings in Zloria's Harborview district. Now, she had less than 200,000 dollars in cash. Her grandmother had made a fortune in the gem trade, but Kiara hadn't inherited her gift. Her mother, hopelessly romantic, had married Hugh Sharp—a charming gambler who slowly drained her of everything she owned. Only her grandmother had seen through him. Before she died, she converted her assets into those three Harborview towers and put them in Kiara's name, forbidding any transfer of ownership. After her grandmother's death, the rent from those towers was all that kept Kiara and her mother afloat. Hugh couldn't access that income, so he revealed his true nature, bringing home his mistress and Yara, his illegitimate daughter, who was only a few months younger than Kiara. Her mother had taken it hard. She jumped to her death. Naïve and craving family, Kiara became Hugh's new cash cow, funding his happy household and Yara's spoiled upbringing with her rental income. If not for the apocalypse, she might still be bankrolling those parasites. Her jaw tightened. She grabbed her phone and unblocked a real estate tycoon who'd been pestering her for months. "Mr. Swanson," she said, "do you still want those buildings? I'll give you a steal—two billion. Transfer today, contract today." There was a pause. Then came a delighted laugh from Garfield Swanson. "Deal. I'll have the papers drawn up immediately." He knew exactly how valuable that property was—the location was prime, and Garfield had already heard redevelopment was coming. Two billion for all three was a steal. Two hours later, Kiara stepped out of Garfield's office. Her bank balance now had nine glorious zeroes, which eased her worries. Now came the fun part—shopping. She moved fast—renting several massive warehouses in Eastgate, each over 30,000 square feet. Then she drove to the farmers' market and bought premium rice, flour, cooking oil, spices, canned goods, sausages, cured meats, and every dairy product she could store, instructing vendors to deliver directly to her warehouses. Two million gone in one trip, and she didn't haggle, paying without thinking. Water wasn't a problem—her space had fresh, drinkable streams. These supplies could keep her alive for a lifetime. With food secured to keep her alive, the next on the survival checklist was clothing. The apocalypse brought deadly, unpredictable weather, and survival often came down to the right gear. She rented a small truck and headed to Cloudwood, a district crammed with garment factories. Most of the larger ones usually filled overseas orders that produced quality products. But with the apocalypse looming, shipping them abroad no longer made sense—better for her to seize them now. It took effort, but she finally got a meeting with a factory manager. Kiara ordered T-shirts, jeans, sweaters, long down coats, snow boots, sneakers, thermal underwear, hiking boots, tents, parkas, hats, and scarves. To avoid looking like a lunatic and getting thrown out, she kept her order relatively modest—requesting multiple sizes in both men's and women's styles. Even so, Kiara read from her list for a solid 30 minutes without stopping, leaving the factory manager's jaw hanging open. Who ordered that many clothes in one go and for every season? It wasn't like the end of the world was coming. What was the rush? He had good reason to suspect she was just here to mess with him, and the list in her hand was all the proof he needed. Sensing his expression growing darker by the second, Kiara calmly pulled out her bank card. "I can pay a deposit now." "20 million," the manager said after a pause, taken aback by her seriousness. Flush with cash and not shy about spending it, Kiara swiped the card right away. "I want this order fast—ideally finished within a month. And while speed is important, so is quality." The factory manager's stern look vanished instantly, replaced by a fawning smile. "Of course, ma'am." Chapter 2 Shopping Spree After paying the deposit, she left the warehouse address and walked out. The moment Kiara stepped out of the factory, a warm gust brushed her face, and for the first time, everything started to feel real. The streets were alive with the evening rush—people hurrying home from work, neon lights flickering to life, and the air buzzing with the scent of fried food from nearby stalls. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a door and window store and a hardware store. Pulling over to the curb, she grabbed her shopping list and went inside. "Two of the sturdiest steel security doors you've got," she told the shop owner, "twenty shatterproof glass windows, one electric gate, security grilles, screen windows—and I want the whole property fenced in with heavy-gauge stainless steel. Can you do that?" From a thick stack of papers, she pulled out a layout of the property and handed it to him. She'd bought that place years ago in a fit of irritation—after a fight with Hugh, some pushy real estate agent caught her at the moment, bragging about the house being earthquake, hurricane, and even tsunami-proof. Annoyed, and with fresh rent money in her account, she had bought it just to shut him up. Hugh and Yara had no idea it even existed. The shop owner had never heard such a strange request. For a moment, he didn't even know what to say. Kiara tightened the jacket around her shoulders. "I'm paranoid," she said matter-of-factly. This world had all kinds, and he'd clearly decided she was one of them. Without asking more, afraid to scare off this jackpot of a customer, he nodded. "We can do it. But I'll need a deposit. I can bring my crew tomorrow to install everything." Kiara's wallet spoke for her. After swapping numbers and setting a time, she went next door and practically cleaned out the hardware store—buying shelves, tools, and anything else she thought she might need. She even ordered custom storage racks. She practically bought out his inventory. By the time she left, the shop owner's grin was so wide she was sure his cheeks hurt. Kiara ignored his glee and headed for the door, only to catch a delivery guy rushing past with a bag of takeout. The smell hit her like a punch to the gut. Her stomach gave an unashamed growl. She was hungry. Too lazy to get back in the car, she ducked into a shabby little diner across the street. The middle-aged owner greeted her with a smile. "What can I get you, hon?" Kiara flipped through the menu and ticked off more than a dozen dishes. The woman was shocked. She stared at her fragile frame and sincerely advised, "Sweetheart, our portions are big. Three dishes will fill you up." "I can finish it," Kiara replied. She looked her in the eyes, dead serious. If a customer wanted to spend, who was she to argue? The owner took the order without another word. Before long, the table was covered edge-to-edge with steaming plates. Kiara's hands trembled as she reached for her fork. How long had it been since she'd eaten a meal that smelled this good? In the apocalypse, five years of famine and cannibalism had stripped the world bare. Kiara had clung to her principles, surviving on grass, roots, and mud—only to become food for the family she'd protected all that time. Shaking off the memory, she tore into the food like a starving wolf. One plate. Two plates. After the third plate, Kiara felt so stuffed she could barely sit still. She looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quietly loosened her belt a notch and kept eating. By the time she reached the fifth plate, she could barely catch her breath, the food pressing so hard against her stomach that she thought she might puke. Only then did she finally stop, leaving the table full of leftovers. She knew exactly what this meal was a response to the extreme hunger she'd endured in her past life. Kiara patted her now-rounded stomach and silently promised herself she wouldn't let it get out of hand next time. If the apocalypse hadn't come yet, she'd end up killing herself by overeating, and that would be the most ridiculous second chance ever. After paying, she asked the owner for eight takeout boxes and packed up the remaining dishes along with a large portion of rice. Back in the car, Kiara rolled up the windows, placed the food on the seat, and muttered under her breath, "Store." In a flash, the food vanished from her sight, stored safely in the wooden lodge inside the hidden storage. Kiara relaxed, knowing it was safe. Full and satisfied, it was time to do some serious shopping. She didn't plan to buy her supplies from the supermarket. It would be a hassle to haul everything into the car; moreover, pushing carts full of goods through the store would definitely attract attention. Kiara wanted to stockpile quietly, without drawing too much notice. When she finally got home, she found two unexpected visitors were standing at her doorstep. As soon as she saw their faces, Kiara's expression darkened. She hadn't even gotten around to dealing with them, but the duo were actually delivering themselves at her doorstep. Hugh and Yara. In her past life, they had literally carved her up and eaten her alive—starting with her legs—just so they could extend her life for a little longer. It had taken nearly a month of unimaginable pain and desperation before she finally died. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the storm raging inside her. Hugh saw her then and strode over, his face hard. "You idiot! Who told you to sell those buildings? Fine, what's done is done. But Yara's got her eye on a Lamborghini; go buy it for her. I'm short on cash too, and while you're at it, transfer me a billion." If Yara hadn't overheard a friend mention the sale, Hugh would still be in the dark. The entitlement in his tone made Kiara's stomach turn. She couldn't understand why she was eager to beg for his affection in the past, especially when his favoritism toward Yara was so obvious. She turned away, her voice cold as she barked, "Get lost." Not a single penny for them this time. Her expression was full of disdain. Hugh, taken aback, didn't know how to handle her sudden defiance. He was used to her passivity. Hearing her words, he raised his hand, about to slap her. "How dare you speak rudely to your elder?" But his hand never reached her. Kiara's swift kick sent him crashing to the ground with a thud. Her grandmother had always thought Hugh was unreliable, so she enrolled Kiara in kickboxing classes when she was young, and she hadn't stopped training since. It was that very skill that helped her survive the end of the world. Thanks to her apocalypse experience, Kiara's moves were lethal. With one powerful kick, she sent Hugh crashing to the ground, his teeth smashing into the pavement, two of them shattered. He let out a grunt of pain and passed out. Yara rushed over in a panic, screaming, "Dad!" She yanked on Hugh's arm and then glared fiercely at Kiara. "You heartless witch! How could you lay a hand on Dad? You sold those buildings for 20 billion and couldn't even spare him a single billion? You're unbelievably ungrateful! No wonder your mother died young—it's fitting for someone like you!" Kiara's eyes narrowed. "With that filthy mouth of yours, no wonder your mom ended up with late-stage lung cancer." She sneered, grabbed Yara by the arm, slammed her into the wall, then slapped her face several times, left and right. Yara staggered back, disoriented, and Kiara shoved her away. "You two better stay the hell away from me, or I might just kill you both!" If the world had already collapsed, she would've killed them both to relieve her fury. But she didn't want to face the apocalypse locked in a prison cell, so she forced herself to hold back. Not bothering with their well-being, Kiara slammed the door shut behind her, flopped onto the couch, and pulled out her phone. She downloaded a bulk-order app and started shopping for supplies. Bottled water, soda, iced black tea and green tea, potato chips, ice cream, spicy beef jerky, pistachios, chicken wings, chocolate, coffee, ramen noodle cups, spaghetti, seasoning blends, bread, milk, instant mushroom soup, seasoning packets, canned stew, frozen meals, canned bean soup, cookies, candy, cake, and coffee beans. Then there were appliances: hairdryers, fans, air conditioners, fridges, washing machines, heaters, light bulbs, TVs, USB drives, game consoles, treadmills, punching gloves, punching bags, solar panels, diesel generators, and water purifiers. And personal care: tissues, sanitary pads, soap, shampoo, body wash, skin creams, face masks, wet wipes, toilet paper, toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouthwash, disinfectant, hand warmers, electric blankets, and camp stoves. Everything she could find, she ordered. She filled the shipping address with the warehouse she'd just rented. She spent a staggering 80 million dollars in one sitting. By 3 a.m., Kiara was still scrolling through the app, eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. Buy. Buy. Buy. She kept ordering, her obsession with stocking up so intense that even in her dreams, she was still fiercely adding to her cart. Chapter 3 Stockpiling The next morning, Kiara woke early. After washing up, she stepped into her storage space to check things. The eight meals she'd stored there yesterday still sat quietly in the corner. When she touched them, they were still warm. She didn't plan to eat them yet. Leaving the space, she headed to the café near her apartment complex, ordered a bowl of granola for breakfast, and then asked the owner to pack up 30 portions each of granola, toast, bagels, soy milk, and waffles. Once the packages were ready, she waited until no one was paying attention, then slipped all the food into her storage space. With her stomach full and morning hunger satisfied, she launched into the day's mission—stockpiling. The first stop was a 24-hour auto shop she'd been visiting for years. The owner knew her well and greeted her while chewing on a breakfast burrito. "Kiara, heading out on another trip with your boyfriend?" he asked with a grin. She froze for a moment. Right—she'd almost forgotten she still had a boyfriend. Since college graduation, she'd been flush with cash from her rental properties and had indulged her love for outdoor adventures, traveling all over with Milo Hodgson. But thinking about him now left her in a daze. In her last life, after the apocalypse hit, Milo had tried to force her to stay with him because of her combat skills. But she'd stubbornly chosen to protect Hugh and Yara, who could barely lift a stick in self-defense. That choice had ended with a brutal fight and a breakup. The next time they met, she was chained up in a cave at Yara's mercy. Milo had kicked her mutilated body, sneering for a long while before walking away. She'd never seen him again. Shaking off the memory, Kiara nodded at the shop owner and smiled faintly. "I'm going on a world trip. Replace every part in my car with the best you've got, and upgrade the glass to heavy-duty bulletproof." The owner let out a low whistle; he finished his burrito and wiped off the grease on his pants. "Holy moly! That's going to need top-shelf work. Give me two weeks—I'll make it perfect." After a few more words, she left. She texted Milo during a lull in her errands, saying, "I'm exhausted. Let's break up." Without waiting for a reply, she deleted every way of contacting him. Next, she rented a small truck and drove to the countryside to buy fresh vegetables—cabbage, carrots, potatoes, spinach, tomatoes, pumpkins, onions, garlic, lettuce, and more. She'd fill the truck, drive to a quiet stretch of road, then stash everything in her storage space before moving on to the next town. Fruits came next—apples, pomegranates, watermelon, pears, figs, grapes, peaches, oranges, strawberries, plums ... Seasonal or not, she bought them all. From there, she hit dozens of slaughterhouses, buying pork, beef, chicken, lamb, fish, and seafood. If anyone asked, she told them she was catering a huge party, and she sold it so convincingly that no one questioned her. She didn't stop there—vegetable and fruit seeds, gardening books, everything she could find. Her storage space wasn't just a wooden lodge; it held 20 acres of fertile, sunlit land. With plenty of water and constant daylight, she could grow enough food to last years. When the food supplies were nearly complete, she turned her thoughts to medicine. Frequent, unpredictable disasters were a hallmark of the end times. When that day came, even a mild cold could turn fatal—never mind anything worse. Buying medicine, however, wasn't as simple as buying vegetables. Kiara figured the easiest solution was to acquire an entire pharmacy. The problem was, running one legally required a pharmacist's license—something she definitely didn't have. The only person she knew who could make this happen quickly was Garfield, the man who'd recently bought three buildings from her at a bargain. She called him and explained what she wanted. Riding high on his latest deal, Garfield was in an excellent mood. He thumped his chest in assurance, promising he could have it done by tomorrow. Garfield wasn't one to make empty promises, so Kiara knew the medicine side of her preparations was in good hands. She was already thinking about stocking up on books once the pharmacy was secured when her phone rang—it was the door-and-window contractor. They'd arrived at Skyhaven. When Kiara arrived, the contractor and two workers were squatting by the entrance, eating ice cream, with sweat streaming down their faces and soaking through their shirts. It was only mid-May, yet the temperature was already pushing 104°F. A sign of what was coming, though no one seemed to notice. After a quick greeting, she scanned her fingerprint at the gate and entered the building. Skyhaven was a high-end complex—secure enough that even during the apocalypse, it wouldn't be easy to break into. She'd bought the top-floor unit, the tenth story. In her last life, she and Hugh and Yara had holed up here for two long years. The workers seemed to sense her cool, distant nature and didn't try to chat. They went straight to work. Stepping into the empty condominium where she lived for two years stirred a strange feeling in her chest. Then the echo in the bare room reminded her—she didn't have a single piece of furniture. In her past life, Kiara had scavenged abandoned condominiums for whatever she could find. This time, she wanted things done right. Looks like she'd have to buy some proper furniture. Reinforcing the windows and walls would take days, and she had no intention of standing over the workers' shoulders the whole time. She simply told them she wouldn't pay the balance unless the job was solid—and that she'd add a bonus if it was done well. That promise alone made them work more carefully. Leaving the condominium, she found a middle-aged man with a slight belly leaning in the doorway, peering inside. Her face darkened, she walked over and asked coldly, "What's up?" He grinned. "New here, huh? I'm your neighbor across the hall—Travis Walsh. So ... you live alone? No parents around?" Kiara knew exactly who he was. In her last life, Travis and his buddies had seized the residents' supplies and raped every attractive woman they could get their hands on. In her last life, Kiara had crossed paths with Travis before. Once, Yara had complained about being bored at home. The moment she stepped outside, Travis grabbed her. Kiara had fought tooth and nail, charging straight into his den to drag Yara back. But in the end, Yara had still cozied up to him. The two of them—a perfect pair of snakes—had set her up so badly she'd been left with a permanent limp. It was because of that injury she had eventually fallen into the hands of the ruthless father-daughter duo and ended up as their food supply. Remembering it now, Kiara's eyes grew colder as she took in Travis's loathsome face. With a sharp bang, she slammed the door shut, brushing past him without a glance. "None of your business." "Hey, kid, you got no manners?" Travis's voice hardened with irritation. When he reached out to grab her arm, Kiara caught his wrist and shoved hard. A loud pop echoed in the hallway; his shoulder was out of its socket. Her gaze locked on his pain-twisted face, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "Don't mess with me." Another name was added to her kill list. When the end came, this man would be the first to die. A disturbing thought crept in—she realized she was starting to enjoy the freedom to hurt those who deserved it. A part of her was beginning to look forward to the apocalypse. When her figure disappeared into the elevator, Travis spat on the floor and growled, "I'll get you for this, bitch. Just you wait." Kiara didn't hear his empty threats. Outside the complex, she drove to her warehouse and stored away the last of her supplies. Travis's appearance had been a reminder—she needed to start preparing firearms and heavier weapons. She had no intention of becoming her neighbor's walking pantry. When she was done, she texted a soldier she'd met while traveling in Adroria, asking if he had time to talk. Hours passed with no reply; she figured he was busy and didn't dwell on it. It had been a long day. Lunch had been nothing but a rushed plate of burgers, so Kiara decided she deserved a proper dinner. In the new world, good meals would be a rare treat. She found an authentic cheese fondue restaurant and ordered over 30 dishes. Unlike last night, when she'd eaten until she could barely move, this time she paced herself, savoring each bite. Just as she finished, her phone lit up. The soldier replied warmly, asking what was going on. Kiara didn't discuss details over text—too risky if her phone was tapped. She simply said she'd be in Adroria next week and suggested meeting up. James Dean readily agreed. After that, she headed to an auto dealership and bought ten top-performance off-road vehicles, sending them to her mechanic for upgrades. When he asked about it, she said she was helping friends. He chuckled. "Kiara, thanks for bringing me all this business. I'll give you 20% off." "Deal," she said with a nod. That afternoon, she hit the electronics hub, buying dozens of laptops, phones, tablets, gaming consoles, and a pile of massive-capacity flash drives. She lugged them to her truck like sacks of grain. That night, she stayed home, downloading everything she could—classic movies, TV series, novels, comics, variety shows, and documentaries. Especially when it came to a fantasy drama, which she'd watched more than ten times, and just downloading it again was enough to make her curse out those worthless season-eight writers all over. She also downloaded dozens of top-quality wilderness survival documentaries—because in the apocalypse, you didn't just prepare for the likely; you prepared for the impossible. The end of the world would be dull enough as it was. She intended to make her time in hiding as full as possible. While the downloads ran, she opened her food delivery app and went on a spree—fried chicken, roast chicken, barbecue ribs, milkshakes, cakes, cheeseburgers, chili, french fries, buffalo wings, barbecue platters, hot dogs, crepes ... Her plan was simple—until doomsday arrived, she'd tap on all the food in the delivery menu every single day. ------------------------------------- 👉 Readers' opinions: "It's so intriguing!" 💕 It's really ALL FREE, just click the button below!!!👇

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