New Currency

"Careful, don't slip," Cassius warned.

The two women looked up and smiled. Their delicate hands were stained with fresh blood, and even their flawless, porcelain skin was tinged with crimson—a strange yet captivating contrast.

Cassius surveyed the room, now stocked with food and water, pondering the best way to maximize these resources.

Bartering?

Pointless.

What else could he trade for?

People?

This neighborhood didn't have any women worth exchanging.

He glanced out the window. The rain hadn't stopped. He wanted to venture outside to scavenge for supplies, but with the downpour showing no sign of letting up—and the wind picking up—going out was a problem.

The two women had been hauling corpses all night and only returned at dawn, completely exhausted. After a much-needed hot shower, Cassius didn't skimp on their reward—he prepared a meal.

And not just any meal. It was a feast compared to what they had before. They had worked hard all night; it was only right to replenish their strength.

Soon, the table was filled with grilled meat. If anyone from the other buildings saw this, they'd probably go insane with envy. But for Cassius? This was just another ordinary day.

He opened the group chat. Their building's chat was dead silent—probably because, aside from himself and these two, everyone else was dead.

The main community chat, however, was buzzing with accusations—mostly about him. Especially the people from Building 1, who were acting like self-righteous judges, standing on their moral high ground, demanding his execution.

Not that it mattered. Most chat functions had been severely restricted—no downloading videos or photos, no sending videos, no forwarding messages, no joining new groups, no video calls, and even the "people nearby" feature was disabled. Still, some had joined external neighborhood groups early on, and the situation there was just as bad.

Cassius looked up and chuckled. "You two don't need any rest?" They'd been working all night—he was planning on giving them a break.

Maisie, ever the tease, smirked playfully. She was getting bolder by the day.

Beside her, Angela looked slightly embarrassed.

Then, with a flirtatious grin, Maisie stood up and settled herself onto Cassius's lap.

Cassius sighed inwardly, forcing a bitter smile. He was in the middle of strategizing, and Maisie just had to pull this move on him.

"Help me come up with a plan first, and then I'll reward you," he said, wrapping an arm around Maisie's slender waist. She was soft, almost dangerously so.

"What kind of plan?" Angela asked curiously.

"What do you think is the best thing to trade our supplies for?" Cassius prompted.

Maisie didn't even hesitate. "Obviously, more women."

Angela froze for a moment. If they started trading for women… what if Cassius lost interest in them?

But Maisie knew better. She understood Cassius's power. More food meant better survival odds. Besides, this was exactly what Cassius had in mind too.

"I've been watching for a while now," Cassius mused. "Aside from you two, this neighborhood has nothing worth taking." He had standards—not just any woman was worthy of becoming his… investment.

"You never know until you try," Maisie teased, grabbing her phone.

Cassius raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Advertising in the neighborhood chat," she replied. Then, she cursed herself internally—she hadn't even asked for Cassius's permission first.

But Cassius didn't seem to mind. In fact, he had already been considering it.

"Half," he said calmly.

Maisie arched a delicate brow. "Half? Isn't that a bit much?"

Angela spoke softly, "If half our supplies can lure in a worthwhile woman, I'd say it's a fair trade."

Cassius chuckled, ruffling Angela's hair. "Now that's the kind of thinking I like to hear."

Maisie rolled her eyes and shrugged. Damn you, Angela. I taught you all my tricks, and now you're out here stealing my spotlight?

Without wasting time, Maisie opened the neighborhood chat and recorded a voice message.

"Hey, neighbors~ It's Maisie from Building 3. Are you starving? Thirsty? Losing your mind over the lack of food and water? Well, I can solve that problem for you. Cole's got the supplies, and we're looking for some cute little kittens in exchange. Serious inquiries only~ Meow~"

She attached a photo of their stockpile and hit send.

Almost immediately, her phone started blowing up with friend requests.

The three of them watched with eager anticipation—only to realize it was all a joke.

Maisie and Angela were no strangers to these kinds of tricks. They saw right through the nonsense, and their excitement died instantly. This plan was a bust.

One of the so-called "applicants" was a fifty-year-old woman claiming to be the reincarnation of an Egyptian queen. She swore that with just a sip of water, she'd instantly regain her youth.

Cassius laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

Yeah, this wasn't going to work.

It seemed unlikely they'd lure in any real beauties this way. Better to focus on grinding experience—take it slow. Time was the one thing he had plenty of.

Building 4 – Mallory's Bedroom

"That damn streamer is actually trying to trade supplies for women… But what about that delivery guy? Is he dead yet?" Mallory frowned, his brows creasing into a deep "川" shape. That delivery guy had been making things way too complicated.

Beside him, his girlfriend spoke softly. "Maybe the guy with the gun killed the delivery guy. If that happened, those two women could've just sided with the gunman instead."

"But there's no way he has much ammo left," Mallory said, his tone grim.

"Don't forget—there's another gun in play," his girlfriend reminded him. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it. Something about Building 3 was just… off.

Mallory's eyes suddenly lit up. "Didn't they say they were looking for beautiful women? Send one of ours to check things out."

"I already had some of the women try to join their chat. They got rejected."

Mallory rubbed his temples. Finding a woman on Maisie's level? Easier said than done.

"I still think a night raid is our best option," his girlfriend suggested.

Mallory nodded. The supplies were far more valuable than the women. They had to take them.

Building 1 – Apartment 2801

Maggie tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. She opened the group chat—several of her girlfriends had gone silent. No response. Their fate was obvious.

Only the ones living in high-end communities seemed remotely safe, but even that safety was temporary.

She scrolled through the neighborhood chat, noticing that plenty of women were still talking. Curious, she scrolled up—and there it was.

Maisie's ad.

"Hey there, neighbors~ Are you starving? Thirsty? Losing your mind from hunger and dehydration? Well, I can fix that problem for you. The supplies behind me? They're up for trade—only for authentic, high-quality kittens. Serious inquiries only~ Meow~"

Maisie's sweet smile, flawless skin, and confident tone made the message all the more enticing.

Maggie stared at the screen, feeling a pang of envy. Especially when she saw the photo. Crates of water. Piles of food. Her stomach let out an involuntary grumble.

But she still had enough supplies to last a month. No way was she walking into a trap just to be some guy's personal "big kitty"—and meowing on command? She'd have to be insane.

Just then, her phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID—and for the first time in a while, she smiled.

"Hadden, still awake this late?" Maggie's soft voice carried a hint of warmth as it left her lips.

A deep, magnetic voice came through the speaker. "Couldn't sleep. I was thinking about you."

"I was thinking about you too."

For a moment, everything else faded into silence.

They weren't married yet, but they were already engaged—the wedding was supposed to happen at the end of the year.

But then… everything fell apart.