Ethan glanced at Dr. Chloe when she spoke.
Afraid of coming off too much like a bleeding-heart saint, she quickly added, "Back then, the snowstorm had just started. I thought it'd pass quickly…"
Ethan smirked and folded his hands, setting his phone down on the table.
"That's not the issue."
"You gave them supplies, sure. But those would've run out long ago. So what's she been living on?"
Chloe was mid-bite, gnawing on a rib. She paused, set it down slowly in her bowl, and said softly, "Her son… he died about ten days ago. No meds. Fever."
Ethan nodded. "Ah. That explains it."
Then he suddenly chuckled. "That woman always said her son was her everything. Said she loved him more than life. Guess she meant it—she did keep him close."
Chloe gasped, covering her mouth. "Ethan, I'm eating!"
He burst out laughing. Mission accomplished.
Having someone to joke with made surviving a little more fun.
While they bantered, a commotion outside caught their attention.
On the balcony of Building 18—roughly 40 meters away—a naked man stood in the blizzard, arms raised like some tragic monument. Then, without a word, he leapt off the edge.
Chloe frowned and let out a sigh. "When is this nightmare going to end?"
Ethan just shook his head. "Who knows? Nature doesn't owe us answers. All we can do is keep living."
Right then, Ethan's phone buzzed.
He checked the caller ID and raised an eyebrow. It was Uncle Ray—the security guard at the front desk.
In this life, there were only two people Ethan trusted:
One was Chloe. The other was Uncle Ray.
Both had died for others in his past life—died holding onto their humanity.
That's why he'd allowed Chloe into his home. And that's why he took Uncle Ray's call seriously.
Uncle Ray, despite being a middle-aged bachelor, had been one of the most well-prepped residents—second only to Ethan. The guy lived frugally, stocking up on instant noodles and canned goods like it was an Olympic sport.
Ethan picked up. "Hey, Uncle Ray."
"Ethan… uh… how're you holding up, kid?"
His voice was nervous, stuttering—clearly embarrassed.
Ethan knew that tone. It meant the old guy was about to ask for something.
He weighed it carefully. If it was about food, maybe not. But medicine? That was another story.
Uncle Ray was ex-military. A damn good fighter. Having him owe a favor? That was a strategic win.
Ethan gave him a casual opening.
"I'm good. Just… consumption's faster now with someone else living here," he said, glancing at Chloe.
Chloe looked down, cheeks flushing slightly, poking at her rice with a sheepish expression.
"Ah… yeah, yeah. Makes sense. One more person, more mouths to feed," Uncle Ray mumbled awkwardly.
He paused again.
Ethan waited.
Finally, Uncle Ray cleared his throat. "Ethan… I, uh… I need a favor."
"Uncle Ray, come on. Just ask. If it's something I can do, I'll help."
"It's sugar I mean, Lisa May's daughter. She's burning up with a fever. We're out of medicine. Ethan… do you still have anything left?"
There it was. Desperation wrapped in pride.
Ethan's eyes widened.
Holy hell. Lisa May had latched onto Uncle Ray?
Talk about top-tier social strategy. Out of all the bachelors in the building, she locked in on the second-richest guy after Ethan.
Impressive.
Still, he wasn't surprised. That woman had survived longer than him in the previous timeline. Clearly, she wasn't just some soft-spoken damsel.
Mid-thirties. Average face. Great curves after childbirth. To a lonely old bachelor like Uncle Ray, she was a dream.
Ethan didn't judge.
If she snagged herself a golden retriever to raise her kid in the apocalypse? Fair game.
"I see. Congrats, Uncle Ray."
"Ah, nothing to congratulate. Just cohabiting. You know me—wouldn't be getting hitched if it weren't for the damn snowstorm."
Ethan said casually, "I've got a few packs of fever meds left. Come by and get them."
The phrasing was important.
A few packs left.
Scarcity builds value. Letting Uncle Ray know he was using up his own dwindling supply—for someone else—made the gesture all the more generous.
It said: "I'm helping you at my own expense."
The kind of move that built loyalty deeper than any handshake.
Uncle Ray was silent for a second. Then—
"Ethan, I… I don't even know how to thank you. You've saved my ass—twice now!"
He choked up, then added with conviction, "If there ever comes a day when you need me, and I say no—I swear I'm not human. I'm yours to command."
Ethan grinned. "Come on now, Uncle Ray. Don't get all emotional. You're family, you hear me? Like blood to me."
"Just come grab the meds."
Across the table, Chloe puffed her cheeks and shot him a playful glare.
She'd just discovered something new about Ethan—beneath the cold exterior, this guy could be damn sly.
After the call ended, she leaned forward, teasing, "Are you really that close with Uncle Ray?"
Ethan picked up his bowl again and said calmly, "In the apocalypse, all relationships are built on interests. The truth just becomes more obvious."
"Uncle Ray is kind, loyal, and strong. If I help him now, he might repay me later."
He paused, then added, more quietly:
"But honestly… I just don't want the good ones to die out."
"Human decency is rare now. When I see a flicker of it left, I want to protect it."