"Are you sure you can pull this off?"
Lyra Solis stared at the manager, who had been silent for quite a while, and couldn't help pressing him again.
"Ah!"
Startled by her sudden question, Walter Miller snapped back to reality and quickly nodded with a servile smile. "No problem at all! UltraMart is the largest retail chain in the region—you've definitely made the right choice. Don't worry, even if you wanted the sun itself, I'd find a way to get it for you."
"Oh?"
A gleam flickered in Lyra's eyes at the manager's overzealous promise. Glancing around and confirming that the reception room was empty, she lowered her voice. "Can you really get anything?"
"Ah—"
Walter immediately began to sweat. He had clearly talked himself into a corner and couldn't back out now. With no other choice, he forced a smile and said, "I mean… probably… maybe…"
Lyra leaned in slightly, her tone hushed and curious. "Guns. Ammo. Can you get those?"
Beads of sweat formed on Walter's bald head. He instinctively looked around before remembering they were alone in the room.
"Miss Solis, please don't joke like that. That kind of thing is… highly illegal."
He sounded nervous and a bit guilty, embarrassed at having to contradict himself so soon after his bold claim.
Lyra sighed and gave him a sideways glance, her tone tinged with disappointment. "Shame. I really thought you could. It would've been quite the order. Oh well, if you can't handle it, I suppose there's nothing to be done."
"Uh…"
Walter's mind raced. He hesitated before asking cautiously, "Miss Solis, if you don't mind me asking… what do you need something like that for?"
Lyra gave him a casual glance, then looked down at her delicate hands. "Personal hobby. Is that a problem?"
"No, no! Not at all!"
Walter kept his thoughts to himself. Rich people really did have bizarre hobbies. But compared to those eccentric billionaires abroad who kept lions or tigers as pets, hers didn't seem all that unusual.
"Alright, enough small talk. I'll give you a 30% advance. The rest you get after delivery. That work for you?"
"No problem at all! Give me three days—just three—and I'll have everything ready."
Walter agreed without hesitation. He'd have been satisfied with just a 10% deposit, and now she was offering triple that. Of course he was thrilled.
Ten minutes later, Lyra signed the procurement agreement. As she was about to leave, something occurred to her. She looked up. "One more thing, Mr. Miller."
"Yes, Miss Solis?"
By now, Walter had seen the 30% deposit hit his account—£300,000. All his doubts about her financial capacity vanished instantly.
She wasn't just beautiful—she had real money. She said she'd pay, and she did. Just like that. This was what true wealth looked like.
"When the goods arrive, I don't have a secure location to store them. Find me a warehouse. I'll cover the lease fee, of course. Also, I need you to prepare ten days' worth of basic survival supplies. Load them into my car."
"No problem at all. Leave it to me!"
This was a straightforward request, and Walter agreed immediately. Lyra's expression showed clear satisfaction.
Just then, her phone rang. It was sitting on the table. She frowned slightly at the caller ID, hesitated, and then picked it up.
"Ms. Solis, something's wrong! A dozen suppliers just showed up at the company demanding immediate payment. Somehow they found out the group's cash flow is tight. They said if we don't give them an answer, they'll start seizing assets from the building!"
It was her assistant, nearly in tears, delivering a shocking update.
Lyra's face darkened. "How did they find out? And besides, the payment schedule isn't until the end of the month. They have no right to demand it now."
"I don't know, Ms. Solis. There's a whole crowd at the entrance, blocking the front gate. Employees from other floors are gathering to watch. When can you get back?"
The situation clearly annoyed her. After a moment's thought, Lyra answered sharply, "I'll be there in 20 minutes. Keep them calm until I arrive."
She hung up, eyes narrowing as she turned to Walter. "Mr. Miller, I need another small favor. If it's not too much trouble…"
"Not at all!"
Walter had no idea what she needed, but he agreed anyway. After all, who could say no to someone so generous?
Lyra leaned in close and whispered her request. Walter listened carefully, nodding as she spoke.
Once she finished, he laughed heartily. "Consider it done, Ms. Solis. Leave this little matter to me."
She gave a satisfied nod, said nothing more, and strode out. Walter escorted her to the door, bowing slightly as she climbed into her sleek sports car and sped away toward her company headquarters.
At dawn the next day, Kael Voss was jolted awake by the howling of the undead below. He sat up abruptly, groggy, head throbbing, disoriented and unsure of where he was.
It took him a long moment to gather his thoughts. Eventually, he remembered where he was—and last night's deal with Lyra Solis. The thought made him momentarily excited, though that excitement quickly turned to frustration.
Sure, she'd promised to supply him with resources. But that wasn't going to help him right now. In this post-apocalyptic nightmare, survival came first. If he couldn't stay alive long enough to receive her supplies, then none of it mattered.
Sighing, Kael made his way to the kitchen. He used the leftovers from the previous day to fill his stomach, then took inventory of the remaining food. After living through the past few weeks of chaos, he'd grown used to rationing.
In this world, food was everything. People weren't like the infected—they needed to eat and drink. Go a few days without it, and you didn't need the undead to finish you off; starvation would do the job.
Unfortunately, it seemed the house's former occupants hadn't stocked much. The ten-pound bag of rice was already half gone. There were a dozen eggs, a small piece of pork, a crate of milk. The only bright side was a box of fruit in the kitchen—most had gone bad, but a few apples were still edible.
Still, if he stayed here, he doubted it would last more than a week.
And he had no idea what was happening at the safehouse.
Yesterday, there had been the sound of explosions and gunfire from that direction—much louder than anything he'd heard before. It didn't sit well with him.
Back when they built the safehouse, they'd scrounged up a few pistols. But no explosives, nothing major.
Those blasts yesterday? They were definitely military-grade.
"Well, there's no use worrying about what I can't control," Kael muttered to himself. "I need to focus on getting out of here. Survive first. Once I get back to the safehouse, I'll figure everything else out."
He finished packing the supplies. If he wanted to survive, he couldn't just sit here waiting to die.
He stepped out of the kitchen, walked up to the master bedroom door, and moved aside the furniture blocking it. His first step to escape began with killing the female zombie trapped on the other side.
Up until now, he'd always had a few teammates around. Since the apocalypse began, things had gone relatively smoothly for him. He'd never faced something like yesterday's swarm alone.
But after being betrayed by his own people, he'd made a decision: he had to grow stronger.
And strength had to begin somewhere. If he couldn't even take down one solitary infected woman, then all talk of "getting stronger" was just an empty fantasy.