Apocalyptic Disaster: I Hoard Billions in Supplies and Kill the Saint

The floor was made of full mirror material, and footsteps produced crisp echoes. The ground seemed to breathe, and the temperature was kept constant at around 26 degrees, dry and comfortable.

Multiple hidden fragrance diffusers were embedded in the walls, releasing a scent as faint as an orchid, which could even cover up the lingering smell of the wild and gun oil on Ye Nanxing.

She frowned subconsciously, her gaze slowly sweeping over the ”crowd” in the passage.

—Or rather, this wasn’t a ”crowd,” but more like a performance.

Evening gowns, capes, animal skins, silk, furs... The men were mostly in crisp suits, the women in vibrant long dresses, with gold, silver, and jade hanging from their chests, pearls and jewels hanging from their earlobes. Some people were even pacing leisurely on the mirror floor in 10-centimeter high heels, as if they were in a hotel lobby.

And she, wearing a tactical jacket and thermal pants, with combat boots on her feet, a dagger hanging behind her, and worn-out gloves, looked like a wild mercenary who had stumbled into a banquet hall.

Some gazes swept toward her, and some people lowered their voices and snickered.

Ye Nanxing was expressionless, her gaze only darting between each screen and lingering in every blind spot of the surveillance.

She wasn’t shocked, just nauseated.

—Is this the so-called ”bastion of civilization in the apocalypse”?

—Taking the lives of the bottom-tier survivors to maintain the glitz and glamour of the upper class?

Beside her, Chu Yunting’s expression was as usual, without a ripple.

At this moment, someone walked over from the front.

A middle-aged man of medium build, about fifty years old, with graying hair combed impeccably, walked toward them.

Lin Muran—Commander of the Zero Point Workshop.

He wore a custom military-green trench coat with a low-key silver-gray energy fabric lining, and a heavy gold ring on his hand, which made a dull metallic clinking sound when he walked.

Behind him followed three women, all dressed revealingly, with gorgeous makeup that hadn’t been messed up at all by the weather changes.

One of them—even bare-legged, with a very short skirt, stepping on high heels, smiling and whispering into his ear, pointing at Chu Yunting’s side.

Lin Muran raised his head, and when his eyes fell on Chu Yunting, the corners of his mouth curled up.

”Yo.”

He smiled slowly and walked a few steps closer.

”You brat really didn’t die.”

Chu Yunting raised an eyebrow, his expression lazy.

”Your tone sounds like you were waiting for me to die completely.”

”The last time you unauthorizedly used ’Legacy Clearance,’ you almost blew up the R19 side. The old guys were all gnashing their teeth in hatred.”

Lin Muran laughed and cursed.

”I originally thought you had frozen to death outside long ago. I didn’t expect you to be able to crawl back.”

”After all, one has to cherish their life.”

Chu Yunting replied easily.

”Aren’t you living more comfortably than anyone else?”

Lin Muran laughed out loud, and his gaze slowly fell on Ye Nanxing.

He scanned her up and down, a hint of inquiry in his eyes, his tone not heavy, but carrying a hint of undisguised scrutiny:

”This one... haven’t seen her before.”

”Someone new you brought?”

Ye Nanxing stood in place, not speaking proactively, nor showing any signs of unfamiliarity or nervousness.

She just looked at Lin Muran calmly and said faintly:

”Ye Nanxing.”

Chu Yunting looked sideways at Ye Nanxing, his tone flat.

”Met on the way, traveling together... a friend.”

Lin Muran let out an ”hmm,” nodded noncommittally, the smile at the corners of his mouth deepening, as if he were trying to figure out a dark piece that had suddenly appeared on the chessboard.

”Fine.”

He said, ”Welcome to our... last bastion of civilization.”

”Since you’re here, take a walk around.”

After speaking, he waved his hand, his posture natural and composed, and walked forward on his own.

Chu Yunting glanced at Ye Nanxing and followed.

Between the three of them, there was no extra small talk, but it was sharper and more filled with undercurrents than small talk.