Monica jumped in right away.
"I can personally vouch—those videos are real and recent."
"Ethan has stockpiled food, fuel, even medicine. He's basically living in paradise while the rest of us are stuck in hell!"
Natalie chimed in too. "I helped him haul stuff when he went on a shopping spree at the supermarket. Don't you guys remember the trucks coming in and out of his place every day?"
That jogged everyone's memory.
"Damn, yeah... there were trucks. I thought he was just a hoarder or something."
"Wait—he knew this snowstorm was coming and didn't say a damn word?! What a bastard!"
"Unforgivable. That selfish bastard watched us all suffer while living it up!"
Anger boiled over like a ruptured dam. Everyone blamed Ethan.
Not one of them stopped to consider the truth—if Ethan had told them the world was ending, would any of them have believed him?
Of course not.
But that didn't matter now.
All that mattered was—they wanted what he had.
"This guy needs to answer for what he's done!"
"Why should he have everything while we're dying out here?"
"He's got enough food, water, electricity—he owes us!"
"Yeah! We're suffering while he's feasting. Hell no!"
Even Tony Chen saw the videos.
His eyes went bloodshot.
"That motherfucker! While I'm out here freezing my ass off on one leg, he's in there eating steak by the fireplace?!"
Tony Chen had been forced to amputate his leg thanks to Ethan. That hatred ran bone-deep.
He hadn't made another move only because Ethan's place was a fortress—and he didn't know what Ethan had inside.
Now that he did?
He was ready to kill.
The community group chat exploded.
Ping after ping. Everyone @-tagging Ethan, demanding answers.
"@Ethan Ethan, we're all dying out here. You've got food and heat. Share it!"
"You don't want to be remembered as the guy who let his neighbors freeze to death, do you?"
"C'mon, we've been neighbors for years. Don't just sit there watching us suffer!"
"It's me—Aunt Wang from the 20th floor. I lent you those two scallions last year, remember? You owe me!"
"Ethan! Bro, it's me—Liu Wenqiang. Your bro! Let me crash at your place. I'll protect you!"
The DMs started flooding in.
The audio messages. The crying. The begging.
Everyone had the same idea: guilt, manipulate, or seduce Ethan into sharing his supplies.
Of course Ethan saw it all.
He leaned back in his chair, scrolled through the chaos, and smiled.
"How funny," he muttered. "Let's see how far this circus goes."
Lin the Landlady: "Ethan, as your building manager and an elder, I'm taking charge of this emergency. You are hereby required to donate your supplies so I can redistribute them fairly!"
Mommy influencer Xie Limei: "Ethan, please... my baby's starving. Remember how you said she was cute? I'll even let her call you daddy—or whatever else you want…"
Trust fund brat Xu Hao: "Ethan, if you let me live with you, I'll give you everything! My dad's dead. His whole fortune? Yours!"
Ethan tapped out a reply.
Just one word.
"Oh?"
That single character set the group on fire.
People begged harder. Some got nastier.
Some tried moral blackmail. Others tried tears. A few offered... themselves.
Eventually, Ethan typed again.
"Do I know you people? Why exactly should I share my stuff with you?"
It was like someone had dumped gasoline on the flames.
Everyone went rabid.
"Ethan! How can you be so heartless? We're your neighbors!"
"What's the point of living if you're not willing to help others? You're young—have some damn decency!"
"None of this would've happened if you didn't keep secrets! You brought this on us!"
"This is your fault! You owe us!"
Ethan just typed:
"Oh."
"And?"
They lost it.
These weren't rational people anymore. They were drowning men clinging to scraps of humanity—and Ethan was the dry land they couldn't reach.
He was their last hope. And he was laughing.
Ethan reached into his dimensional space and pulled out a chilled bottle of Yellowtail Reserve Shiraz and a slab of French foie gras.
Perfect pairing.
The bitterness of the liver and the tannins of the wine danced together like a private symphony.
While they screamed for mercy, Ethan sipped vintage red and watched them suffer.
More DMs.
More audio messages.
More desperate women.
Xie Limei (Momfluencer): "Please, Ethan, my baby's dying. Let us stay with you. I'll do anything."
Zhang Siyu (college girl): "Ethan... I'm young... I don't want to die. Just a bite of food. I'll give you whatever you want…"
Dozens of women—some married, some not—offered their bodies for sanctuary.
They knew cash was worthless now.
And they knew exactly what men like Ethan could want.
But Ethan?
He just reclined further in his chair.
Watched.
Smiled.
And let them dance.