Chapter 3
1177words
The Apocalypse RV—built on a Ford F-550 chassis and coated in matte black armor plating—resembled a sleeping predator in the morning light. Its aggressive silhouette dominated the landscape, massive blast-resistant tires crushing the rough terrain with a low growl. A menacing V-shaped ram adorned the front, designed to clear anything in its path. The body featured almost no windows—just narrow slits of bulletproof glass that hinted at the fortress within.
Jack gripped the wheel with steady hands. This ten-million-dollar mobile fortress had been airlifted from Texas to a private California airstrip yesterday by an An-124 cargo plane. Now it had reached its true home.
Through the dense pines, a solitary cabin came into view.
His grandfather's legacy—a classic American woodland cabin on a substantial plot, abandoned for years. In his previous life, Jack had considered fleeing here, but the apocalypse struck too fast, leaving him no time to prepare.
Now this place would become ground zero for his apocalyptic empire—a truly impregnable fortress.
Jack parked beside the cabin and stepped out. Instead of rushing to work, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. No blood. No decay. Just pine needles and rich soil.
This peace wouldn't last long.
"Let's begin," he muttered.
In an instant, he transformed into a one-man construction crew, launching into a frenzied renovation project.
With a wave of his hand, steel plates, I-beams, cement bags, and professional power tools materialized in the clearing beside the cabin—all summoned from his Dimensional Warehouse.
He started by welding 20mm steel plates to the cabin's exterior, transforming the cozy wooden structure into a cold metal box. Next, he ripped out all doors and windows, replacing them with half-ton alloy security doors and narrow bulletproof observation ports—the same grade used in bank vaults.
But even this wasn't enough.
Jack summoned electronic components, cables, and sensors from the warehouse. He dug a deep perimeter trench and installed high-voltage fencing. Throughout the surrounding forest, he strategically placed over a dozen camouflaged "Sentry" Automatic Gun Towers built from system blueprints. These killing machines—triggered by both infrared and sound—would form his first defensive line.
[Side Mission: Build a Paramilitary-Grade Shelter (Requirements: Independent power supply system, water purification system, three layers of active defense)]
The system interface in his mind clearly displayed the mission requirements.
Jack glanced at the midday sun, then summoned dozens of solar panels. He installed them across the cabin roof and southern clearing, connecting them to a massive battery bank in the garage. Combined with the RV's diesel generator, the system would keep the base powered indefinitely if the grid failed.
He worked like a machine, pausing only to eat compressed ration bars and drink purified water. The blueprint in his mind was crystal clear—every step precise and efficient, without wasted motion.
This was ten years of blood-bought experience made manifest. With unlimited resources at his disposal, his vision took shape at terrifying speed.
Three days before the apocalypse.
Jack fine-tuned his final defensive line. Lying on the second-floor sniper platform, he adjusted his brand-new Barrett M82A1 anti-materiel rifle. The weapon was cold and heavy in his hands, a thing of deadly mechanical beauty.
Through the high-powered scope, he focused on a boulder a kilometer distant, making final adjustments.
The satellite phone beside him rang.
The caller ID made Jack's eyes turn to ice—Mark.
He carefully centered the crosshairs on the rock before unhurriedly answering.
"Jack, you finally decided to pick up." Mark's voice carried its usual arrogant condescension.
"What do you want?" Jack's voice remained perfectly calm, his eye still fixed to the scope.
"I heard you quit your job and ran off to the mountains?" Mark chuckled. "Everyone's talking about your little breakdown. I'm calling to tell you to stop this nonsense. I've spoken with HR and saved you a security team leader position. Pay's not great, but better than starving in the wilderness. Come back now and I'll consider it my good deed for the year."
At the words "security team leader," Jack nearly laughed.
In his previous life, he'd personally slaughtered over a thousand zombies and hostiles to protect that worthless bastard. Now Mark thought him fit only to be a security guard?
Jack wasn't angry—his heart had died the moment Mark pushed him off that wall. He simply marveled at how some people's arrogance transcended time itself.
Ignoring Mark's "charity," Jack spoke with a voice that seemed to rise from the grave:
"Mark, where are you right now?"
Mark seemed surprised by the question. After a brief pause, he answered smugly: "On my penthouse balcony downtown, sipping Château Margaux '86 and watching the sunset. What, changed your mind? Want a taste of the good life?"
"No." Jack's voice was deathly calm. "I just suggest you... take a good look at the world around you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mark's tone sharpened.
Jack's lips curled into a cruel smile, his eye still fixed on the scope's crosshairs, like an executioner pronouncing sentence.
"Because you, and everything you own, have exactly 72 hours left."
He hung up without waiting for a response.
Refocusing on the scope, he drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
His finger squeezed the trigger.
BOOM——!
A thunderous explosion shook the forest. A kilometer away, the man-sized boulder shattered like glass before the .50 caliber armor-piercing round, fragments exploding in all directions.
The system notification chimed in his mind.
[Task Completed: Paramilitary-Grade Shelter has been built!]
[Overall Rating: Perfect!]
[Reward Issued: Advanced Physical Enhancement Serum x1!]
A metal syringe filled with glowing blue liquid materialized beside Jack.
Jack set down his rifle and grabbed the syringe without hesitation.
He jammed the needle into his arm and pushed the blue liquid into his veins.
The next instant, unimaginable pain exploded through his body—as if he were being torn apart and rebuilt at the molecular level!
"ARGH——!"
Even with his iron will, Jack couldn't suppress a guttural scream. His bones felt like they were shattering, muscles tearing, blood boiling. Black-tinted sweat poured from his skin as his body temperature soared.
He clenched his teeth, veins bulging across his body. He shook violently but refused to fall.
This was the price of transformation!
After what felt like hours, the pain finally receded, replaced by an explosive surge of raw power!
Jack rose slowly. He heard his bones crack and pop, felt every muscle fiber surge with newfound strength. A simple clench of his fist compressed the air with an audible snap.
He checked his system panel.
[Host: Jack]
[Level: 1]
[Strength: 25 (Average adult male: 5)]
[Agility: 22 (Average adult male: 5)]
[Constitution: 28 (Average adult male: 5)]
[Spirit: 15 (Average adult male: 5)]
[Overall Assessment: Human limit! You are now a prehistoric beast in human skin!]
Jack studied his dramatically increased stats and felt the raw power surging through his veins. He raised his head and gazed toward the unsuspecting world below—a world about to be consumed by fire.
Everything was ready.
Now he just waited for the apocalypse to begin.
