Chapter 104: Fundamental Human Nature
Xavier clenched his fists so hard his knuckles popped. He could see it with absolute, terrifying clarity. The food supplies would deplete within weeks. Water works run dry. The localized space would fill with anxiety, panic, and eventual riots.
And with a massive herd of strangers trapped inside his grounds, it would only take one spiteful, likely infected civilian to open the doors, turning his entire empire into zombie food overnight. Including him.
Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, a sickening wave of clarity washing over him.
It was repulsive, but April was right. She was, and always would be, right. He had to secure his own safety first. Only after his survival was guaranteed could he begin to look at what came after the storm. Only then could he rebuild the foundation of Reed Industries from scratch.
"Miss April," Xavier called out quietly. He didn’t turn back around to face her, his tall silhouette outlined against the bright morning horizon. "Thank you."
April interpreted the low statement exactly for what it was: he was thanking her for clearing the stubborn, idealistic fog out of his thick corporate skull.
"Just... don’t forget to write me my check, Mr. Reed," she replied, her tone lightening slightly to ease the gravity of the room. "We all want to survive to the end, don’t we?"
Xavier nodded once, his posture locking back into its pristine, immovable baseline. "Yes. Yes, we do." Without another word, he strode off the terrace, his mind already calculating the rapid restructuring of his private assets.
Alexander turned back to April, a boyish, relieved grin returning to his face. "I’ll coordinate with my family’s accounting department to get your check authorized immediately, Miss April. Oh, and I have a specific gift for you too."
"A gift?" April asked, her left eyebrow arching up. "What’s the occasion?"
"Well..." Alexander scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish. "My grandfather keeps nagging me about how we haven’t properly thanked you for all the trouble with the inheritance. Even if I paid for the reading, he insists we show a real gesture of gratitude."
"If it’s a personal gift, I won’t refuse," she said simply.
Alexander’s grin turned wide and a little mischievous. "Yeah, and I know the exact thing to get you right now."
April didn’t quite understand what that specific grin meant, but since the heir clearly had it under control, she didn’t press for details.
Alexander gave a quick wave and walked away, leaving her alone on the sunlit terrace with Nat and Samuel.
She turned her head slowly, her gaze landing on her assistant. Samuel stood with flawless, rigid poise. Despite just finding out that dead corpses were going to walk the earth in forty-nine days, his face carried absolutely zero panic.
"Samuel," April called out.
"Yes, Miss April?"
"Now that you’ve heard all of this..." she started, her voice dropping into a quiet, testing tone. "Now that you know I’ve kept a tight, selfish hold on life-saving data, and that I have absolutely zero intention of bending my neck to save strangers just for the sake of being ’good’... do you see me differently now?"
Samuel didn’t respond immediately. He stood quietly, his eyes fixed on the distant mountain line. But he wasn’t judging her moral compass; he was simply running through all the cryptic hints she had dropped over the past week. The world is changing, Samuel. Very soon, the ’fat paychecks’ and the stability you created with Xavier Reed won’t just be a luxury—they will be the line between life and death. The puzzles that had baffled his mind for days suddenly clicked into a single, flawless picture. It made absolute, total sense.
"I do not, Miss April," Samuel claimed, his voice smooth and entirely steady.
"So knowing I am this deeply calculating doesn’t tilt your view of me in the slightest?"
"Well... aren’t we all inherently selfish?" Samuel asked, turning his head to look at her.
April paused, her lips parting slightly. "It is... fundamental human nature," she murmured.
Samuel offered a subtle, rare smile behind his glasses. "Exactly, Miss April. Just do you, and I will do me. My primary role is to serve your interests, and I am entirely loyal to whatever cause you are fighting for. If the current schedule demands getting ready for the end of the world, I will be right here to assist you."
April tilted her head back a little, her eyes narrowing in surprise. "Huh? Aren’t you going to run back to assist Mr. Reed now that you know what’s on deck for his corporation?"
Samuel immediately bowed his head in a flawless, ninety-degree angle. "Right now, my absolute service belongs exclusively to you, ma’am."
April’s eyes rolled toward the far left corner of her peripheral vision, where her system interface silently flared to life, updating his metrics in real-time.
[System Notice: Attendant Samuel’s Loyalty Metric has increased from 85% to 92%. Status: Iron-Clad.]
His words don’t lie, she thought, a profound sense of security washing over her. He was loyal to her through and through.
She didn’t fully understand the psychological source of his dedication yet, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain about a high-tier executive asset.
"Then," April said, smoothing down her gray sweater, "let’s keep to the schedule and prepare for the collapse. Just... make sure you do not neglect your own survival resources in the process. I am not so selfish as to ask you to build my fortress while disregarding your own safety."
Samuel’s chest swelled with a distinct touch of pride. "Do not worry, Miss April. I will have it all sorted out."
He felt an immense thrill running through his veins. He was going to stand right beside this incredible, mysterious woman and watch the old world shatter from the safety of her shadow.
To possess an ability that could predict global movements and store physical matter in an invisible vacuum... to him, April wasn’t just a seer. She was a chosen variable.
"I will get the sedan prepped so we can begin the day’s itinerary," Samuel said.
But right before he turned to leave, his eyes narrowed sharply as they locked onto Nat Collins. Samuel slowly raised a single finger, tilting his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a thoroughly smug, victorious look.
It was a silent, petty declaration of dominance—a visual reminder that out of everyone on the mountain, he was the one truly running April’s world.
Nat simply raised a thick red eyebrow at the weird assistant, watching him march off the terrace with a snort.