Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

​April’s mind briefly flashed back to the dark, concrete garage. She remembered the deafening cracks of the aluminum bat, the hot blood splattering against the ruined silver sports car, and then back to the hours of intense target practice, and the persistent, violent trembling still vibrating through her fingers.

Her shoulders ached as if they were made of lead.

​”It’s just because I’m tired,” April replied flatly. ”Thank you.”

​She didn’t wait for his permission to dismiss herself. She turned and walked toward the glass entrance of the villa.

​The house was quiet. Samuel was already gone for the night, and the private chef had long since finished their duties and returned to their quarters.

​April made her way up the wide staircase and pushed open the door to her bedroom.

​As soon as she crossed the threshold, her pets rushed toward her. Rufus let out a soft, excited huff, circling her ankles, while Lily put on a display of pure, arrogant pride.

The kitten did a slow, elegant catwalk right over the silk sheets of her nearly made bed, letting out a demanding meow as if to ask why her human had been gone for so long.

​April didn’t have the energy to play. She let her body go limp, face-planting directly onto the mattress, her cheek resting against the cool fabric.

She lifted her right hand off the coverlet, watching her fingers still shake with that faint, stubborn tremor.

​With a quiet mental command, she accessed her spatial storage.

​A small, glowing vial of the revitalization spring water materialized in her palm. She uncorked it with her teeth and drank the pristine, cool liquid.

​Almost instantly, a soothing warmth spread from her chest down to her fingertips. The stubborn trembling in her hands died down to a complete stop, and the heavy, throbbing ache in her shoulder muscles dissolved into pure comfort, making her feel physically alive and aligned once again.

​She stared at the empty glass vial before letting it slip back into her inventory.

​That’s two down now, she thought.

​The timeline was shifting, but she was slowly taking control of her past-life ghosts. She hadn’t done anything directly to Mei, because she knew with absolute certainty that Mei’s future without Samuel’s quiet, calculated management would be its own slow, miserable punishment.

As for Cai—the smiling hypocrite who had used her as raw bait—she had thoroughly, brutally exacted her revenge. He was physically whole, but his mind was in pieces. He would never look at a vial or a metal bat without losing his mind again.

​April rolled over, grabbing a plush pillow and hugging it tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.

​But as she lay there, she felt a lingering, uncomfortable sensation.

​It felt as though the metallic scent of Cai’s blood and the desperate, suffocating aura of his near-death state were still fused to her skin, clinging to her clothes and hair from the savage beating she had delivered. It was psychological, but it made her feel slightly sick.

​She sighed, forcing her heavy limbs to move. She dragged herself out of bed and walked into the bathroom, turning the brass handles to let the hot water fill the deep marble tub.

​Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the steaming water, letting the heat envelop her tired body. She leaned her head back against the smooth marble rim, planning to just soak the phantom grime away for a few minutes.

​But the sheer, crushing exhaustion of the day finally won, and before she could even wash up, her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell fast asleep in the warm, quiet depths of the tub.

...

The soft, persistent chirping of birds outside the high arched windows slowly pulled April from the depths of a dreamless sleep.

​She blinked, staring at the familiar cream-colored ceiling of her bedroom. For several seconds, her mind stalled as she ran a quick diagnostic on her current state.

​She was in her bed. The heavy, plush duvet was pulled neatly up to her shoulders, and she was wrapped comfortably in a soft, dry cotton robe.

Her head rested against a fresh pillow, and when she reached up to touch her hair, she found it completely dry—not a single damp strand had left a wet mark on the linen.

​April frowned, a faint line forming between her brows.

​She remembered stepping into the hot bath. She remembered leaning her head against the smooth, cold marble rim, waiting for the psychological grime of Cai’s blood to wash away. After that, her memory banks were completely blank.

​Did I wake up in a sleep-dazed trance, dry myself, change, and tuck myself in?

​It was possible, though her cognitive function during extreme fatigue usually didn’t execute such meticulous domestic tasks without her retaining a single shred of recall.

She had been a maid, after all. She had the habit of recalling everything she did so she could at least get a tiny bit of evidence when she’s charged with an act she did not commit—not like her evidence was worth shit anyway.

She quietly dismissed the calculation for now. She would not get anywhere with just thinking about it.

​After dressing in a simple outfit, April made her way downstairs.

​She found Xavier sitting in the sunlit dining room, a fresh cup of black coffee resting near his hand as he reviewed a tablet.

When she entered, he set the device down, his eyes instantly tracking her movements. His gaze was intense, searching her face for any lingering traces of the exhaustion from the night before.

​”You look better today, Miss April,” Xavier observed, his voice smooth, though there was a controlled, quiet gravity behind it.

​”Let’s just say I had a restful night,” April replied flatly, sitting down beside him at the table.

​Xavier nodded slowly. ”Good. Because the final preparations for my gift are complete. If your schedule allows, I would like to take you to see it today.”

​April paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. She ran a quick mental search on her schedule for today.

​”I cannot go today,” she said, her voice entirely devoid of apology. ”I have a prior arrangement with Alexander Greel. He is arriving shortly to conduct my driving lessons. We will be practicing for the next few hours.”

​Xavier’s hand, which had been reaching for his coffee cup, stilled.

​For a fraction of a second, the air in the elegant dining room grew incredibly heavy. The polite, professional facade he usually kept perfectly intact seemed to tighten, a cold flicker of irritation passing through his eyes before he slowly withdrew his hand.

​”You seem very busy these days, Miss April,” Xavier said. His voice was calm, but the syllables were clipped, carrying a sharp, quiet edge. ”I can hardly make an appointment with you.”