Chapter 4 · I Let the Apocalypse Do the Work

"Stupid mutt, shedding all over my shoes again!" Baldwin grumbled.

A dull thud and the golden retriever's whimper echoed through the penthouse living room.

Baldwin, rocking a pair of limited-edition basketball kicks, gave Coffee a hard boot in the gut.

Coffee curled up, trembling in the corner of the couch, his big, watery eyes wide with fear, but he didn't dare make a peep.

In Mona's previous life, right here in this living room, just because of a few stray dog hairs, Baldwin had beaten Coffee—the dog that had been Mona's loyal companion for five years—to death with a golf club, brains splattering everywhere.

Back then, Astrid was just sitting on the side, sipping coffee and sneering, "Good, let it die. Saves us from having to buy dog food—stuff's more expensive than bread anyway."

Mona was sitting at the dining table, sorting through the week's shopping list. When she heard the commotion, her pen froze mid-stroke, leaving a hole in the paper.

She looked up, not angry at all—instead, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on her face.

"Baldwin, stop it," she said softly, setting her pen down.

"The dog really is dirty and stinky. We wouldn't want our precious young King to get a whiff of that, now would we?"

Baldwin muttered curses as he yanked his foot back, then spat right on the dog. "Mona, hurry up and get rid of it! Just looking at it pisses me off."

"It'd be a pity to get rid of it after all these years," Mona said, standing up and heading over to the TV cabinet. She pulled out a brand-new box—the latest VR gaming set Baldwin had been talking about nonstop for days.

"I'm heading out to the west suburbs to check inventory anyway, so I'll take the dog to the pet shop there and get it cleaned up. If it still reeks, I'll just leave it at the warehouse to be the guard dog and won't bother bringing it home."

Baldwin's eyes locked onto that slick new box, totally mesmerized.

He snatched up the game set, his rage melting into pure glee—he completely forgot about the dog.

"Alright, alright, just get it out of here! This is a limited edition! Mona, you're a genius!"

Mona headed to the corner and crouched down.

Coffee caught her familiar scent and gave her hand a cautious lick, his tail giving a careful little wag.

"Come on, Coffee," Mona said, looping the leash around his neck. Her palm brushed over his warm head, feeling him shiver under all that fluffy fur.

She led Coffee to the door, then looked back.

Baldwin was already tearing into the box, slapping on the VR headset, and flailing his arms at thin air, whooping and hollering like a maniac.

Astrid came over with a plate of sliced fruit, her face all soft and doting as she fed Baldwin pieces of cantaloupe.

The whole scene was so sickeningly sweet it made Mona want to gag.

Mona cast one last look back, then swung the door open.

'Play all you want, soak it up while it lasts,' she thought to herself.

'In this phony paradise, this is the last bit of happiness you'll ever get.

'Once you rip off those goggles, real life's gonna make your game hell look like a joke.'

Three days left till the end of the world kicks off.

The dining room was dripping with luxury—a giant crystal chandelier bathed everything in a warm golden glow, making the food on the table look absolutely irresistible.

It was a lavish spread: Stephen's favorite braised pork belly, Astrid's steamed sea bass, and a whole plate of lobster that Baldwin had all to himself.

Mona just had a bowl of mild soup in front of her.

She held a spoon, gently stirring the soup, the crisp ding of porcelain ringing out in the room.

"Mom," Mona suddenly spoke up, her voice as calm as if she were talking about the weather.

"Say the world really ended, and everywhere was crawling with man-eating monsters, and we had just one piece of bread left—who gets it?"

Astrid was shoving a piece of fatty, oil-dripping steak into her mouth, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Hearing Mona's question, she swallowed without even chewing, then jabbed her fork at Baldwin, who was busy gnawing on his lobster. "What kind of question is that? Of course it goes to Baldwin!"

"Why?" Mona asked, without even glancing at her mother, her gaze never leaving the greens bobbing in her soup.

"Mona, what's with all this nonsense today?" Stephen took a sip of his wine, his brow furrowed, falling right into that typical dad lecture mode.

Chapter 4

"Stupid mutt, shedding all over my shoes again!" Baldwin grumbled.

A dull thud and the golden retriever's whimper echoed through the penthouse living room.

Baldwin, rocking a pair of limited-edition basketball kicks, gave Coffee a hard boot in the gut.

Coffee curled up, trembling in the corner of the couch, his big, watery eyes wide with fear, but he didn't dare make a peep.

Back then, Astrid was just sitting on the side, sipping coffee and sneering, "Good, let it die. Saves us from having to buy dog food—stuff's more expensive than bread anyway."

Mona was sitting at the dining table, sorting through the week's shopping list. When she heard the commotion, her pen froze mid-stroke, leaving a hole in the paper.

She looked up, not angry at all—instead, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on her face.

"Baldwin, stop it," she said softly, setting her pen down.

"The dog really is dirty and stinky. We wouldn't want our precious young King to get a whiff of that, now would we?"

Baldwin muttered curses as he yanked his foot back, then spat right on the dog. "Mona, hurry up and get rid of it! Just looking at it pisses me off."

Baldwin's eyes locked onto that slick new box, totally mesmerized.

He snatched up the game set, his rage melting into pure glee—he completely forgot about the dog.

"Alright, alright, just get it out of here! This is a limited edition! Mona, you're a genius!"

Mona headed to the corner and crouched down.

Coffee caught her familiar scent and gave her hand a cautious lick, his tail giving a careful little wag.

"Come on, Coffee," Mona said, looping the leash around his neck. Her palm brushed over his warm head, feeling him shiver under all that fluffy fur.

She led Coffee to the door, then looked back.

Baldwin was already tearing into the box, slapping on the VR headset, and flailing his arms at thin air, whooping and hollering like a maniac.

Astrid came over with a plate of sliced fruit, her face all soft and doting as she fed Baldwin pieces of cantaloupe.

The whole scene was so sickeningly sweet it made Mona want to gag.

Mona cast one last look back, then swung the door open.

'Play all you want, soak it up while it lasts,' she thought to herself.

'In this phony paradise, this is the last bit of happiness you'll ever get.

'Once you rip off those goggles, real life's gonna make your game hell look like a joke.'

Three days left till the end of the world kicks off.

The dining room was dripping with luxury—a giant crystal chandelier bathed everything in a warm golden glow, making the food on the table look absolutely irresistible.

It was a lavish spread: Stephen's favorite braised pork belly, Astrid's steamed sea bass, and a whole plate of lobster that Baldwin had all to himself.

Mona just had a bowl of mild soup in front of her.

She held a spoon, gently stirring the soup, the crisp ding of porcelain ringing out in the room.

"Mom," Mona suddenly spoke up, her voice as calm as if she were talking about the weather.

"Say the world really ended, and everywhere was crawling with man-eating monsters, and we had just one piece of bread left—who gets it?"

Astrid was shoving a piece of fatty, oil-dripping steak into her mouth, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Hearing Mona's question, she swallowed without even chewing, then jabbed her fork at Baldwin, who was busy gnawing on his lobster. "What kind of question is that? Of course it goes to Baldwin!"

"Why?" Mona asked, without even glancing at her mother, her gaze never leaving the greens bobbing in her soup.

"Mona, what's with all this nonsense today?" Stephen took a sip of his wine, his brow furrowed, falling right into that typical dad lecture mode.