Leaving Skyhaven Auto City, I navigated the Defender to the flagship store of the city's largest real estate agency.
Pushed the glass door. Cold AC.
Senior agents in white shirts chatted, afternoon tea on desks. Looked up at the bell. Saw a young man in a cheap suit (didn't change yet), with an unleashed big dog.
The veterans exchanged looks. Looked down. Phones again. Experience said: This guy wants a cheap shared room. Picky, no money, has a dog. Worst client.
"Joey, go take it." A female agent with thick foundation kicked a chair. "I'm busy with a villa client."
In the corner, a fresh grad with glasses, Joey, put down his files nervously. Came over.
"Hello sir, renting or buying?" He was timid, glancing at Shadow fearfully. Badge: [Intern: Joey].
"Rent." I looked at him. "Fast. Need to move in tonight."
"Oh, rent." Joey led me to a seat. Poured water. "Budget and requirements? We have..."
"I want the best."
I cut him off. "Three rules: One, big. At least 200 square meters. Furnished. Ready to move in. Two, strict security. No random people. Three, dogs allowed."
I pointed at Shadow.
Joey froze. In this location, those three combined meant astronomical rent.
The female agent scoffed loudly. "Hey, Joey, show him the self-built rooms in the urban village. Big space, dogs allowed, 800 a month."
Shadow turned. Cold golden eyes swept over her. She felt a chill on her back. Shrank into her chair. Shut up.
I ignored the old hag. Looked at Joey. "Do you have it?"
Joey hesitated. Opened his book. "Sir, only Cloudtop International fits. Skyhaven's highest-end apartment. Butler service. Strict security. But..."
He looked at my clothes. Gritted his teeth. "The cheapest flat there is 55,000 a month. Deposit one, pay three. Plus asset verification..."
55,000.
The veterans smirked. Waiting for me to leave in shame.
"Show me." I stood up. "Now."
"Huh?" Joey was dumbfounded. "Sir, are you sure? Needs appointment, and..."
"I have a car."
I pulled the heavy Land Rover key from my pocket. Tossed it on the table. Clack.
"Outside. The black Defender."
Seeing the key, and the aggressive new car outside, the veterans' faces froze. Like ducks choked by the neck. The female agent went pale. Regret eating her guts.
"O-Okay! I'll get the keys!" Joey's voice cracked. Scrambled for his bag.
Twenty minutes later.
Cloudtop International. 32nd Floor.
Elevator opened. Joey was still dizzy. Riding in the new Defender, feeling the leather seats... he was in shock.
"Mr. Victor, this is Unit 3201. 260 square meters. 3 Bed 2 Bath. Smart home system. Huge storage room..."
Joey stuttered the intro. Opened the door.
Spacious living room. High-end marble. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire Skyhaven night view. Leather sofa soft enough to sink into. Kitchen equipment better than restaurants.
Quiet. No traffic noise. No neighbors arguing. Just the hum of central AC.
This is the rich life?
I looked at Shadow. He was patrolling the territory, rolling on the expensive rug excitedly.
"Shadow, what do you think?"
"Passable." Shadow jumped on the sofa. Stomped. "Good vision. Easy to spot enemies. And no sour moldy smell."
I turned to the stunned Joey.
"I'll take it."
I took out the card. "Contract. One year. Full payment upfront."
"Wh... What?!"
Joey dropped his files.
One year? 55k a month. That's 660k. Plus deposit... over 700k! One lump sum?
"Didn't hear me?" I said calmly. "I hate trouble. Swipe."
When the receipt printed, Joey's hands shook. This commission fed him for a year. More importantly, he could hold his head high in the office.
"Th... Thank you Mr. Victor! Call me anytime for anything!" Joey bowed ninety degrees. Almost crying.
Sent him away. Closed the heavy security door.
World finally quiet.
I threw myself onto the sofa. Stared at the crystal chandelier. Exhaled long.
From a wage slave fearing eviction to a tenant at Cloudtop. Separated only by one transmigration and a life-or-death battle.
Worth it.
"Woof!"
Shadow ran from the kitchen. Bottle of cold milk (property gift) in his mouth. Clawed the cap off. Licked.
"Human, this white liquid tastes good."
"That's milk." I sat up. "Drink as much as you want."
I walked to the window. Looked down at the city.
No excitement. Just calm. Because I knew this was a bubble. If the apocalypse hit here, this luxury apartment would be a high-rise tomb instantly.
Only power and supplies are eternal.
"Starting tomorrow, we work." I looked out. "Fill this place up."
Next Day. Dusk.
I drove the Land Rover back, loaded with the first batch of "Emergency Supplies" (High-calorie food, meds).
Parking garage full of supercars. My Defender looked out of place but tough.
"Home time."
Carrying two big bags, I led Shadow to the elevator hall.
Elevator opened.
I stepped forward, then froze.
Someone inside.
A woman.
She wore a minimalist beige cashmere coat over a black silk dress. Holding a quality leather bag, no logo. Hair tied back loosely, exposing a slender white neck.
She was looking at her phone. Looked up at the noise.
For a second, I saw a still painting.
Beautiful. Not Vivian's aggressive, made-up beauty. But... quiet. Distant. Like jade sunk in water. Warm, but cool to the touch.
But her beauty didn't stop me.
Shadow did.
The second she appeared, Shadow's ears pricked. Muscles tensed. Nose twitched rapidly.
"...It's her."
Shadow's voice in my head. Serious. Alert.
"Who?" I paused.
"Smell is wrong." Shadow whispered. "She smells... cold. Like snow."
"Snow?"
"Not just snow. Under the cold... a smell of Rot." Shadow's pupils constricted. "Very similar to the things (zombies) in Sector C. But not exactly. More like... a Source."
My heart skipped a beat.
Zombie smell? Source? In peaceful reality? In the city's top apartment elevator?
I gripped the bags tighter. Eyes sharpened.
The woman seemed to sense my gaze. Her eyes swept over us calmly. Deep brown. Clear but bottomless. No emotion.
She showed nothing. Just glanced at me, then at Shadow. Stepped aside politely to make room.
Too natural. Made me doubt Shadow's nose.
"Coming in?"
She spoke. Nice voice. Low, magnetic.
"Ah... sorry."
I snapped out of it. Walked in with Shadow.
Doors closed. Delicate silence.
Faint scent in the air. Not perfume. Like Shadow said—cold wood and melting snow. As for "Rot," my human nose smelled nothing.
Shadow sat at my feet, body rigid. Staring at her reflection in the door. High alert.
I looked at the buttons. 32 (My floor) lit. 33 (Penthouse) lit.
My upstairs neighbor? Penthouse at Cloudtop. She must be ultra-rich or powerful.
"Your dog," the woman spoke suddenly. Calm. "Is trained well."
I froze. Looked at her. She wasn't looking at me. Looking at Shadow.
"Thanks." I replied politely. Brain spinning. "He's... retired service dog."
"I can tell."
Corner of her mouth lifted. A faint smile, gone in a flash. "His eyes. Not a pet. He is... guarding."
My heart tightened.
Sharp observation. Normal people just see "Cool" or "Scary." She saw combat instinct.
"Occupational hazard." I laughed it off. "Used to do missions."
The woman nodded, seemingly uninterested in probing further. She simply said, "I live upstairs. 33rd floor. Selina."
She introduced herself proactively. Voice cool, but with good breeding.
Politeness dictated I couldn't be mute.
"Hello. I'm Victor. Just moved into 3201. Victor Steele."
"Victor Steele..."
Selina paused for a split second.
Her gaze, originally drifting to the floor display, snapped back to nail itself on my face. Those deep brown pupils constricted slightly. As if she heard an impossible word.
Her fingers gripping the bag handle tightened subconsciously. Knuckles turning white.
She took a deep breath. The surprise vanished instantly, replaced by that cold detachment. As if the ripple just now was my hallucination.
I muttered internally, but didn't ask.
"Mr. Steele." Selina changed the subject. Her eyes swept over the two massive military duffel bags in my hands, corners of medicine boxes poking out. "Moving in with quite an arsenal?"
"Uh... personal hobby. Like to hoard a bit." I explained awkwardly.
Ding.
32nd floor.
"I'm here." I didn't want to continue this dangerous topic. Pressed open.
"Goodbye." Selina bid farewell politely. Face calm as a lake.
I walked out with Shadow. At the last moment before the doors closed, I looked back.
She stood there. Straight posture. Eyes watching us through the closing gap. A hint of... probing?
Doors shut. Number changed to 33.
"Phew..."
I exhaled. Palms sweaty. More nervous than facing the C-Rank Tyrant.
"Shadow, you sure?" I unlocked my door.
"This Lord's nose never fails." Shadow huffed. "That woman definitely has a problem. When she heard your name, her heart rate doubled. She is lying. Or... hiding something."
"Also..." He paused. Confused. "She carries something special. Suppressing the rot smell. The energy fluctuation... makes me comfortable, yet wary."
"Special item?"
I frowned. Opened the door.
Upstairs neighbor suspected of zombie virus contact, reacting to my name, carrying mysterious energy items? What kind of plot twist is this? Is Reality unsafe too?
"Doesn't matter who she is." I dropped the supplies. "As long as she doesn't stop us hoarding, doesn't stop us going back, she's a good neighbor. If she causes trouble..."
I touched the Tang Dao on the cabinet. Eyes cold.
"Then I won't be polite."