Chapter 105
Richard’s lips trembled as he struggled to speak.
"Who... who set me up...?" he rasped. "Tell me... before I die... at least let me die knowing..."
The buzz-cut man paused, then looked down at him with a faint, mocking smile.
"Plenty of people want you dead," he said lazily. "Don’t you have any idea yourself?"
Richard fell silent.
The man continued, almost amused, "You’ve been showing off your supplies on social media all day long. What, were you afraid people wouldn’t notice you?"
He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Honestly, I don’t even know how your brain works."
Even he, reckless as he was, wouldn’t dare flaunt things like that so blatantly. And yet Richard had done it without a second thought.
Did he really think having a gun made him invincible?
So naive.
There was always someone stronger. Always someone more ruthless.
Regret flooded Richard’s chest—but it was far too late now.
How could he have imagined he’d fall into someone else’s trap so quickly?
Damn it.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to end.
He was the one who had been reborn—he was supposed to rise above everyone, to rule in this broken world!
"Who... is it...?" Richard forced out again, his voice barely holding together.
The scar-faced man gave the buzz-cut man a light pat. "Enough. He’s not going to last much longer. Just finish it."
The buzz-cut man nodded, then said calmly:
"You know Hannah Carter, right?"
These men had been brought in as outside help—contacted through someone else.
Years ago, they had made a living overseas doing dirty work no one else would touch. They had returned home planning their next move, only to be caught in the chaos of the disaster.
But instead of fear, they saw opportunity.
They began gathering people, building something of their own.
The guns in their hands were crude, homemade—far inferior to Richard’s—but experience made up the difference.
They had lived with death at their fingertips for years.
Compared to them, Richard was still green.
Armed, prepared, and lying in wait—his superior weapons meant nothing.
They had first tracked down Teresa, someone who had been in contact with Richard.
Then used her... to lure him out.
Inside his safehouse, he might have been untouchable.
But out here?
He was just another target.
Half an hour ago, they had forced Teresa to cooperate.
If Richard had arrived even a little earlier, they might not have succeeded.
It seemed fate itself had sided with them.
"Hannah... Carter..."
The moment the name left the man’s lips, Richard’s pupils shrank violently.
Her.
It was her again.
In his past life, he had fallen because of that selfish bitch.
And now—this life was no different.
If he had known...
He should have killed her sooner.
"You... cough... how do you even know her...?" he demanded, unwilling to let it go.
The buzz-cut man shrugged. "That’s none of your concern. Just hand over your house keys. I’ve told you more than enough."
"...In your dreams," Richard spat.
Even now—he refused to accept it.
Refused to die like this.
A thought flickered through his mind. In the next instant, a grenade appeared in his hand.
Back when he had gone abroad to acquire weapons, he hadn’t just brought back guns—he had taken a few grenades as well.
He just hadn’t expected... That he would be using one on himself.
"What’s that in his hand?"
The scar-faced man’s sharp eyes caught the unfamiliar object at once. It looked... suspiciously familiar.
But before he could get a closer look—
A blinding flash erupted.
"BOOM—!!"
The explosion tore through the stairwell, shaking the entire building.
Flames surged outward, swallowing everything—rage, regret, unwillingness—all of it consumed in an instant.
And then—
Silence.
When the fire died down, several charred bodies lay sprawled across the steps, twisted and motionless.
Dark, muddy water crept higher and higher—
Until, at last, it swallowed the scene whole.
***
As Suzy entered Derek’s building, she found herself waist-deep in the water. Greeting through her teeth, she looked up, trying to figure out how she could get to her friend’s floor.
Then, as she was about to enter her space to look for some aid, she suddenly heard a loud scream, followed by... an explosion.
The world around her turned upside down––cold concrete and water mixing together, throwing her off in its violent impact.
Suzy wanted to scream too, but the muddy water filled her lungs, stealing her breath away. Then, another impact followed, throwing her back firmly against the hallway wall.
And then... everything went dark.
***
Self-awareness came first. Suzy’s body felt as if dipped in cement––painfully heavy and almost impossible to move. The memories of the past came rushing like an avalanche, instantly drilling power into her bones.
She opened her eyes, but before she could start panicking, her gaze swept around the quiet, half-empty room, while her body was nestled in the soft embrace of clean, soft sheets and blankets.
"Darek..." she recognized this room.
Perhaps worried by the explosion, he had ventured out and found Suzy unconscious outside.
She was lucky––she could have drowned back there...
Suzy reached into her space and grabbed a glass of the spring water. She downed it greedily, her body instantly feeling better.
But as the clarity began to settle, more panic filled her head, but then––she felt something on her little finger––a small ring she hadn’t had before.
She moved her hand up, her eyes widening in shock.
It was an earring. And she recognized it right away.
"Spatial artifact..." she whispered, focusing her mind on entering the space. And to her surprise, it didn’t take long before she appeared inside the unfamiliar space.
There was everything—food, water, daily necessities... supplies of every kind imaginable.
Even things Suzy herself didn’t have appeared in this collection.
Guns. Compact grenades. Bulletproof vests. All sorts of miscellaneous gear.
And not just a little of it.
As Suzy went through everything piece by piece, she was left staring in stunned disbelief.
Whoever had owned this stash... where on earth had they gotten all of this?
Without hesitation, she handed the entire stockpile over to the space spirit to organize. Meanwhile, her thoughts drifted back to the origin of that earring—
Richard Stone.