The taxi stopped in front of the magnificent revolving doors of "Blue Harbor."
I paid the fare (rounding up generously) and got out with Shadow.
Afternoon sun hit the glass curtain wall, reflecting blinding light. This was Skyhaven City's famous gold cave. The top choice for CBD elites to talk business and socialites to have high tea.
Standing there, I dazed for a second.
Memories overlapped.
Half a month ago, I wore a yellow delivery uniform, parking my e-bike in the side corner. Security would wave batons: "Delivery go back door! Don't block VIP cars!"
I would lower my head, carry the box, bypass the scented lobby, squeeze through the greasy staff passage, and wait for the kitchen to throw me the bags.
Smelling the steak aroma, I used to think: Will I ever sit inside, not rushing, not bowing, just eating a good meal?
Now, I'm back.
Cheap suit. Half-empty but heavy hiking bag. Leading a dog that killed monsters in the apocalypse.
"Let's go."
I tugged Shadow's imaginary leash. Strode to the main entrance.
"Sir, how many?"
The hostess in a fitted cheongsam greeted me with a professional smile.
But when her eyes swept my ill-fitting cuffs, the wrinkles on my pants, and the unleashed, arrogant dog, the smile froze. Turned into shock and disgust.
"Sir, I'm sorry."
She stepped forward, blocking my path. Polite tone, rejecting eyes. "Pets are not allowed. And..."
She looked me up and down. Implied: Dress code.
Guests in the waiting area cast scornful looks. Whispering.
"Look at him. Insurance salesman? And a mutt." "Security sleeping? Letting him in?" "Stay away. Dog looks vicious. Probably has rabies."
Old me would have lowered my head, turned around, feeling like dirt.
But after the bloodbath in Sector C, these "high society" gazes looked like children's games.
I didn't speak. Didn't argue.
I pulled out my phone. Opened banking app. Max brightness. Showed it to her.
The string of numbers under the crystal chandelier was brighter than diamonds.
"One, ten, hundred... million?"
Her eyes widened. Breathing quickened. Looked at me like a flower bloomed on my face.
In this city, money is the pass.
"This dog is a retired Service Dog. War hero. Severe PTSD."
I put the phone away. Spouted nonsense with a straight face. Tone like stating facts. "He can't take disrespect. Can't take noise. Gets triggered easily... loses control. So, I want your biggest private room. Quietest environment. Best service."
"If he goes crazy because of your attitude..."
I paused. Looked at Shadow.
Shadow is smart. Didn't know what PTSD was, but understood my tone and the woman's eyes.
He stepped forward. Golden pupils pinned. Locked onto her throat.
"Grrr..."
A low growl from the depths of hell. Muscles bunched. Killing aura honed in life-or-death combat released.
Not a pet's bark. A predator's warning.
Air solidified.
Hostess went pale. Stumbled back on her heels.
Dress code? No pets? Gone.
In her eyes, we were a walking bomb. A gold-plated bomb she couldn't afford to trigger.
"N-No problem! Sir, this way!"
Voice trembling. Bowed ninety degrees. "Our best 'Vienna' Panoramic Suite is open! Very quiet! No disturbances!"
She practically jogged to lead the way, yelling into her headset: "Quick! Vienna Room! VIP! Clear the way!"
The snickering guests shut their mouths. Eyes full of awe and confusion.
Is this the trend? Wear rags, walk a wolf, swipe the biggest card?
Five minutes later.
Shadow and I sat at a massive long table.
Luxurious decor. Persian rugs. Oil paintings. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Skyhaven river view.
Rich people's perspective.
"Sir, the menu..."
A manager in a tuxedo served us personally. Sweating. Handing over the leather menu with both hands. Clearly heard about the "War Hero Dog."
I didn't open it. Tossed it back.
"Tomahawk steak. Australian M9. Have it?"
"Yes, yes! Our signature!"
"Three orders. Biggest ones. 1.5kg."
Manager's hand shook. "Three... three? Sir, that's huge. One serves two or three people. Are friends joining?"
"No. Just us."
I pointed at myself. Then at Shadow, sitting solemnly on the leather chair.
"One for me. Two for him."
Manager stared at the dog.
M9 Tomahawk for a dog? Two of them? That's over ten thousand yuan! The dog eats better than his monthly salary!
"Problem?" I frowned.
"No! No problem!" Manager shook his head. "Just... the dog..."
"Oh, right."
I picked up a napkin. Stood up. Tied it around Shadow's neck. Nice knot.
"Cut his up. Big chunks. No onion, no garlic, no black pepper. He's picky."
I looked at the manager. Serious. "Got it?"
Manager looked at the napkin-wearing dog with the "Hurry up with the food" face. Worldview shattered. But professionalism held.
"Got it! No onion or garlic! Right away!"
Manager left. Door closed.
Shadow finally broke character. Slapped the table, rattling the silver.
"Human! Who's picky? And what is PTSD? Are you cursing me?"
"Complimenting your mental strength. Professional training." I poured lemon water. Drank it all. "Quiet. Meat is coming."
"Hmph." Shadow tugged the napkin. "Stupid white cloth. Choking me. Humans are so troublesome. Farting with pants on."
"It's called ritual."
I leaned back. Looked out the window. "Shadow, look."
"What?"
"The city." I pointed. "Yesterday, I looked up from the bottom. Today, I sit here."
"Boring." Shadow scoffed. "Peeing from the highest point is conquering."
"..." Can't argue with dog logic.
Soon, door opened.
Three waiters pushed carts in.
Lids lifted. Rich, domineering meat aroma filled the room.
Caramelized fat. Rosemary. Sea salt. Three massive steaks on silver platters. Like axes. Thick. Juicy.
Sizzle...
"Whimper..."
Shadow made a pathetic sound. Eyes glued to the meat. Drooling. Starved in the apocalypse, eating expired cans... first time seeing fresh, premium meat.
"Sir, your wine."
"Leave it."
"Need help cutting?"
"No. Get out. Don't come in unless I call."
"Yes, sir."
Waiters fled. Didn't want to be near the "unstable" dog.
Door closed.
"Dig in!"
I grabbed the bone handle. Caveman style. Big bite.
Splotch!
Juice exploded in my mouth.
Crispy outside, tender inside. Fat and beef flavor rushed my brain. Satisfaction 100x stronger than killing the Tyrant.
This is living! This is a human life!
I looked at Shadow. He didn't use paws. Just opened his maw. Half a pound in one bite. Swallow.
"Good?" I asked, mouth full.
"So-so." Shadow ate frantically but maintained dignity. "Meat too soft. No chew. Weak energy. Just filling the stomach."
"Then why eat so fast?"
"Replenishing protein!" Shadow mumbled. "Also... tastes better than mutant rats."
"Duh. Thousands of yuan a piece!"
We demolished three Tomahawks like starving ghosts.
Added two pastas. Truffle soup. Snacks. Until we couldn't move.
I looked at the empty plates. Shadow's round belly. Laughed.
This meal felt amazing.
Not just the food. The freedom. No calculating prices. No looking at faces. Eat what I want. How I want.
"Check!"
Manager entered. Saw the battlefield. Eyelid twitched.
"Sir, total 8,600."
I handed the black card. "Swipe."
No hesitation. No heartache.
Beep.
Success.
Walking out, all staff bowed. Hostess smiled like I was her dad. Tried to pet Shadow. Shadow glared her back.
"Come again!"
Outside. Night fell. Neon lights on. Traffic river.
Wind cool on my face. Heart hot.
"Where to?" Shadow belched. Happy. "Low energy, but taste was acceptable. I am satisfied."
"Solve transportation."
I patted my stomach. Looked at the Auto City billboard. "We need a car. Big. Fast. Durable. Going between worlds, hauling supplies... need a car."
Millions in hand, but without a car, moving is hard. Especially with Shadow.
"Buy a car?" Shadow's eyes lit up. "The fast metal boxes?"
"Yes."
"I want a big one. Leg room."
"No problem."
I flagged a taxi. Slapped a hundred yuan bill down.
"Driver. Binhai Auto City. Land Rover 4S Dealer."
"You got it!"
Car started.
I watched the street recede.
Land Rover Defender. Dream car. Boxy. Hardcore off-road. Big space. Mod potential. A mobile fortress in the apocalypse.
This time, full payment. Cash.
And there, an unexpected reunion was waiting for me.