Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

A heavy silence fell over the terrace. The air became thick, awkward with each breath breathed in, until Alexander broke the stagnation by stepping forward.

​”I get what you’re saying,” Alexander said, his voice quiet but remarkably steady. ”The future you saw must have been absolutely horrible for you to speak with this much finality, and we won’t judge you for it. To me, my grandfather is the only person that matters anyway. I just have to secure whatever I can to make sure we both live long lives through this impending catastrophe, right?”

​April looked up at him, her eyes softening by a fraction. At least someone here gets it.

​When the apocalypse comes, it is best to focus entirely on the people closest to you rather than trying to exercise an impractical savior complex.

Sometimes, even the ones closest to you can slow you down, but if you have a bottomless lineage fortune like the Greels family, that bottleneck entirely disappears.

​”Acquiring a large mass of land and creating strict protocols for entering is the first thing you need for survival,” April stated flatly, her voice returning to its calm, instructive baseline. ”If you’re going to hire private guards, medical teams, and stockpile food supplies, you have to think extensively. You need to know that the more people you take into your circle, the more likely you are to get infected.” She explained and his eyes widened.

She may be sounding cruel, but it was all true.

”Devastation doesn’t start with massive swarms, Alexander. It just needs one stupid, sympathetic guard to let a small crying girl through the gates, only for her to turn into a monster and bite him. He’ll keep the scratch to himself, walk back to his barracks to meet his pals, fully turn into a mindless zombie, and tear them apart. From that single error, the swarms grow. You have to be absolutely ruthless to survive.”

​Her heavy warning made Alexander’s stomach twist with a fresh wave of unease. The reality of the new world was going to be completely messed up.

​”So... are you really thinking of keeping the rest of the details to yourself?” Xavier asked, drawing everyone’s attention right back to him. He stared at her with an intensity that could cut through steel. ”I could pay you an extra two billion dollars right now if it means we can spread the information.”

​April looked at the unshakeable tycoon, and then a sudden, sharp laugh bubbled past her lips.

”I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” she murmured, though she kept laughing regardless, the sheer absurdity of his mindset cutting through her lingering hangover. ”It’s just... it’s very funny. I don’t need you to pay me an extra two billion for that information, Mr. Reed, though if you want to donate it to my account, how can I possibly refuse?”

​She shrugged casually, her expression instantly turning serious, almost deadly, as she leaned over the marble.

​”It’s just that... the moment you march down to your corporate boards and start telling your employees about an incoming zombie apocalypse they only see in cinema movies, the rumors will immediately fly that the great Xavier Reed has finally lost his mind.”

The laugh bubbled in her chest but this time, it didn’t seem amused but bitter. ”No one will take you seriously. Your efforts to help will only get laughed out of the room, and your competitors will use the sudden dip in your stock stability to cannibalize Reed Industries before the countdown even hits zero.”

​She stepped closer to his side, her voice dropping into a chilling whisper. ”Like I said... humans do not see the warning signs until the teeth of the monsters are wrapped around their necks. I may be selfish, but I at least value my life. You should do the exact same, Mr. Reed because no one will value your life for you.”

​Nat suddenly let out a sharp, ringing whistle, effectively shattering the suffocating tension hanging over the pavilion.

​”Now, isn’t that just cute? Everyone has a little speech prepared,” the mafia lord claimed, walking over, his boots marching aggressively against the marble stone.

”And what is your take in this?” Alexander asked him. ”You’ve been quiet this whole time.”

​”Well, knowing there’s a big bang coming and that a massive portion of the population is gonna drop dead actually thrills me,” Nat rumbled, his lips pulling into an unhinged, predatory smirk. ”At least the world’s gonna have far less rotten human hearts running around, and a lot more rotten skin.” He paused for a second before bursting into a loud, booming chuckle.

His words made so much sense to him he was impressed.

​April looked at him, completely unbothered. There was absolutely no way this man was ever going to change his nature, so she didn’t bother wasting her breath giving him a survival lecture.

He was a natural-born survivor; he would live through the wasteland, even longer than she had in her past life.

​”So it’s the standard rules, right?” Nat asked, his chaotic eyes flashing behind his shades as he looked down at her. ”The zombies bite you, you turn into a zombie, and then the circle continues?”

​She nodded silently, wondering exactly what kind of chaotic plans were currently formulating inside his head.

​Nat laughed again, slapping his knee. ”Man, it’s like living inside a high-budget horror film. This is great. At least the world won’t be as boring as it used to be.”

​Xavier frowned deeply, turning his back to the lounge. He hated every single word coming out of the warlord’s mouth.

His natural instinct was to find a logical method to preserve order, to save as many minds as possible, and to build a brand new civilization once the old world turned to ash.

But Nat Collins treated the literal extinction of the human race like a playground game. He was unbelievable.

​But as April’s bitter words echoed in his mind, a cold reality began to set in. Devastation doesn’t start with big numbers.

If he built a massive safe house designed to hide thousands of his employees along with their families, what would happen when word inevitably spread?

When the survivors began swarming his gates by the tens of thousands? Would he genuinely be able to look a starving crowd in the eyes and turn his head away? Or would he foolishly open the gates out of a savior complex, letting the system go out of hand just because he wanted to be a hero?