
Reborn in the Apocalypse, I Built an Underground Fortress
Noah
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Introduction
On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.
The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.
In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."
It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.
But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.
My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.
I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.
Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.
Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:
"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."
The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.
In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."
It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.
But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.
My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.
I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.
Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.
Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:
"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."
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Noah
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About Author
Noah
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