After a long moment of silence, Dr. Chloe finally agreed.
Her conscience wouldn't allow her to become a vile person—but watching the other residents plot a raid out of pure jealousy felt even worse.
So, she chose to help Ethan.
Ethan responded, "Good. But I need results first. Show me something useful, and I'll give you what you need. We'll see how you perform."
Chloe nodded. "Understood."
She was kind, but not stupid. She wouldn't beg for help without offering anything in return.
With that, their conversation ended.
Ethan glanced at the residents' group chat. It was still blowing up—over 99+ messages, everyone tagging him, trying to guilt-trip or threaten him.
"Ethan, where the hell are you?! Say something! Are you sharing the supplies or not?!"
Some were getting impatient.
Ethan smirked.
Looks like they're getting ready to break down my door.
He calmly typed a reply:
"Eat shit."
The group chat exploded.
Curses, insults, threats—every vulgarity in the book came flooding in.
Ethan didn't give a damn.
Let them come. He'd already killed someone once—and didn't feel even a flicker of guilt. He could easily kill more.
"Fine, Ethan! You asked for this!"
"Don't you dare say we didn't give you a chance! You selfish bastard!"
"Whatever happens next is on YOU!"
After a while, the rage quieted down.
Ethan could guess what they were doing.
Just like when they ganged up on Tony Chen, they'd probably started a private chat—excluding Ethan—to plot the attack in secret.
Ethan took a deep breath.
In his eyes, there was both tension... and excitement.
His fingers trembled slightly—not out of fear, but anticipation.
He'd waited a long time for this.
To teach these backstabbing, freeloading parasites a lesson they'd never forget.
His eyes gleamed.
He opened his armory cabinet.
Laid out across the living room table were:
Five high-tension steel crossbows
Three compound bows
Nearly 300 bolts
300 arrows
Two large cases of steel ball bearings
Beside them were:
A mountain knife
A 1.2-meter crowbar
A baseball bat
A combat-grade hunting knife
And that was just the start.
He also had bear spray, stun batons, gasoline, a variety of chemical agents, and a few dozen homemade Molotov cocktails ready to go.
Ethan's smile turned cold.
"Come on then. Bring every last one of you."
Just as expected, once the residents realized Ethan wouldn't give up any supplies, they lost their minds.
Logan—yes, that snake—started a brand-new group chat and pulled in every surviving tenant except Ethan.
He even invited Tony Chen.
Seeing Tony in the chat made some folks nervous... but Tony was quick to reassure them.
"Look, people. Our number one priority is Ethan Cross."
"That guy's stash is bigger than all of ours combined. We take him down—we live."
"Don't worry, I'm not touching anyone else right now."
"But I want half of whatever we get."
The guy only had six thugs left, and he was asking for half of the loot?
No one even blinked.
Instead, they praised him as a hero.
"He's got a gun, and he's still willing to share with us. What a good man!"
Logan chimed in too:
"Right! Let's set aside past grievances. Our top goal is to break into Ethan's place and take back the supplies he owes us all!"
With these two stirring the pot, the rest quickly followed.
They'd all seen Ethan's videos, his cozy home, warm lighting, hot food—and it drove them mad with envy.
"Grab your knives, follow me! Kill Ethan, take the goods!"
"That smug piece of trash needs to die!"
Everyone was fuming, foaming at the mouth.
Only a few stayed silent—Uncle Hank, and Chloe.
Even people Ethan had once helped were now sharpening blades against him. Because now?
Morality was a luxury. Survival came first.
Ethan quietly wiped down the barrel of his gun.
He wasn't unfamiliar with it. He'd trained at a shooting club before all this. In the month leading up to the apocalypse, he'd even doubled down on training.
At close range?
He didn't miss.
Just then, a message came in from Chloe.
"They're heading to your unit."
Ethan replied casually:
"Got it."
Chloe sat on her sofa, bundled in two blankets, pulling her feet up as she read his message.
"They've all seen your videos. Every household's sending someone. They've gone crazy."
"You're really not going to do anything?"
To her, the smart move would be handing out a bit of food. Buy peace with generosity. Surely even Ethan couldn't fight off a hundred people alone.
Tear down a door? With that many people, it wouldn't take long.
Ethan didn't explain much.
He just said:
"Whatever you do—don't come over. That's your one warning."
"Now sit back... and enjoy the show."
Chloe frowned. Curiosity crept into her expression.
Where did this guy's confidence come from?
Was he crazy?
She whispered to herself.
But in the end, she followed his warning.
She didn't join the angry mob.
Chloe wasn't someone who would eat people's flesh just to stay alive—not Ethan's, not anyone's.