[The progress of the Blacklight Virus evolution and awakening has increased! Current progress: 0.2%! Additional attribute upgrades: Strength +15, Agility +15, Constitution +15, Spirit +15! Life recovery speed +200%!]
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Ethan awoke from a deep and heavy sleep, his mind clearer and his body buzzing with energy. The further awakening of the Blacklight Virus coursed through his veins, filling him with surging strength that felt almost limitless. Every muscle, every nerve in his body thrummed with raw potential.
He opened his eyes slowly, the faint rays of morning light seeping through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Turning his head, he glanced at Claire. She was still asleep, her breathing calm, her delicate face softened in the light. For a brief moment, she looked entirely untouched by the chaos of the world outside.
Ethan carefully rolled out of bed, trying not to disturb her. He stretched, feeling the newfound power within his body—his constitution had improved, his reflexes sharper, and his spirit stronger. The virus was reshaping him into something more than human.
Behind him, Claire stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion flashing across her face as she reached across the bed only to find it empty. The memories of last night rushed back to her, and she froze, her cheeks flushing red. Sitting up, she winced slightly, her body still sore from Ethan's relentless passion. She bit her lip, a wave of grievance flooding her heart.
Especially those words he had whispered last night—teasing, daring, infuriating. How could she accept such things so casually?!
Her emotions tangled, she slipped into her clothes, grumbling under her breath. But as she stepped out of the bedroom, she froze.
There was Ethan, calm and collected, setting a plate of steaming hot stir-fried beef noodles on the dining table. The rich aroma filled the air, fragrant and irresistible.
Claire's grievances vanished in an instant. Her nose twitched like a little rabbit's as she took in the heavenly scent.
"It smells amazing! Wait—you can cook?! And it looks this good?" she exclaimed, her surprise genuine.
She reached out instinctively, but before her fingers touched the chopsticks, Ethan swatted her hand away with a sharp smack.
"Wash your hands first. They're covered in germs," he said firmly.
After all, with the Virus King's heightened awareness of bacteria and infection, Ethan's understanding of hygiene and safety had become almost obsessive.
Claire pouted, her lips curving into a soft sulk. "Hmph. Yesterday, my hands were all… well, you know, your things. There were germs everywhere then too!" she muttered under her breath as she stomped into the bathroom.
Still, despite her sulking, she obediently washed her hands and face, freshened up, and returned. When she sat down at the table, her composure shattered instantly.
Like a whirlwind, she grabbed her chopsticks and began devouring the noodles with astonishing speed, her movements so fast they blurred.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "How many days have you been starving?" he asked, half amused, half exasperated.
Claire didn't even pause to look at him. With her mouth full, she mumbled between bites, "It's so good! Ethan, this is incredible! How did you make this? I believe you now—this isn't takeaway. I've tried every restaurant nearby and none of them come close to this!"
Ethan smirked. He had long since gotten used to her exaggerated compliments. Compared to the words she had gasped in his ear last night, this was nothing.
"Eat as much as you like," he said casually. "Because soon… meals like this will become rare luxuries."
Claire froze mid-bite, chopsticks hanging in the air. His words sent a small shiver down her spine. But she quickly shook it off, pushing the thought aside. She didn't want to spoil the warmth of this moment.
The enigmatic man before her had a way of making her heart race. At this point, she felt that if Ethan handed her a cup of poison with that calm smile, she would drink it without hesitation.
But little did she know—his words were not an exaggeration.
After the apocalypse, even for advanced evolutionaries with access to secret realms and rare ingredients, life would never again be carefree. Though their meals might be luxurious, the state of mind—the tranquility of sharing breakfast in peace—would vanish forever.
Ethan knew this all too well. A tinge of melancholy flickered in his eyes as he watched her eat.
But his gaze soon shifted, tracing over Claire's figure. This morning she wasn't dressed in her usual strict nurse uniform, and the casual softness of her attire made her seem all the more alluring.
Claire felt his eyes on her and flushed red, but instead of hiding, she straightened her posture slightly, letting him see her.
Ethan chuckled under his breath. Precious indeed—the moments before the apocalypse truly held their own kind of magic.
And beyond that, Claire was more than just companionship. For him to obtain more virus samples and talent evolution points, she was an invaluable ally. He had no desire to return to the hospital where trouble brewed. Having her by his side was the perfect alternative.
Before long, what had started as breakfast with two chairs slowly turned into a scene with only one.
"Stop squirming and move over," Ethan muttered, pretending to complain. "I'm trying to eat."
Claire giggled, her laughter sweet, leaning against him playfully.
Just then, a shrill ringtone shattered the morning atmosphere.
Claire frowned immediately. She snatched her phone from the table, ready to hang up without hesitation. But Ethan stopped her.
"Don't hang up. Answer it," he said firmly.
She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing in annoyance, but his calm stare made her sigh. Reluctantly, she pressed accept.
Her voice softened instantly, adopting a subtle grace as she spoke into the phone, "Hello?"
Ethan smirked. Women truly were born actresses, he thought. Their ability to shift their demeanor depending on who they faced was unmatched.
On the other end, a frantic male voice exploded through the speaker:
"Where are you, Claire?! Why haven't you answered me?!"
Claire rolled her eyes. "I'm eating breakfast. And Lucas, what exactly is our relationship that gives you the right to call me like this?"
The man on the other side went silent, stunned into speechlessness. His breath hitched as though he had just been struck. "Claire… Claire…" he stammered.
"My name is Claire," she said coldly. "If you have something to say, then hurry up. I'm busy—" she paused deliberately, letting out a soft sigh, her breath brushing across the speaker.
On the other end, Lucas froze, his mind short-circuiting. The sound of her breath—subtle, intimate, out of place for breakfast—sent his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory. Though he lacked real experience, years of reading, watching, and imagining had trained his mind far too well.
His face flushed red, his eyes bloodshot. "Claire, what the hell are you doing?!" he roared, his voice cracking with jealousy.
The more he shouted, the more desperate his tone became, rising higher and higher, filled with wounded pride. His fury was so sharp that even Ethan raised an eyebrow, surprised at the intensity.
Claire, however, wasn't rattled in the slightest. She didn't even try to defend herself. She simply ignored his tantrum, leaning back in her chair with a serene smile.
Ethan chewed calmly on a piece of beef, thoroughly entertained.
Even after surviving the apocalypse, fighting horrors and living through despair, he couldn't deny—there was nothing quite as amusing as this. The drama of a jealous man screaming into the void while his rival sat across the table, eating breakfast with the woman in question.
Sometimes, the simplest chaos really was the most fun.
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