Gathering Supplies

"Knock, knock, knock..."

Just as Yasin was strategizing his next move based on Yasin's memories, a sudden knock on the door disrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it?"

Yasin asked coldly.

"Brother, it's me, Helen. Dad, Mom, and Jerry went to a party. Do you want to have dinner with me?" The eager voice of the little girl came from outside the door.

Yasin frowned slightly. His half-sister seemed much closer to him than to her biological brother, Jerry.

That was a good thing, but at this moment, Yasin had no time to waste on Helen.

"No, I'm not hungry. Thank you, Helen." Yasin responded in a deep voice, then pressed his ear against the door.

Only after hearing Helen's murmuring fade into the distance did he slowly open the door.

Yasin, Helen, and Jerry lived on the second floor, while Harry and Vivian had their own spacious bedrooms and private bathrooms on the third floor.

The first floor was reserved for security personnel and servants.

According to Yasin's memories, he had only been to the third floor once, and he was promptly kicked out by Harry. In contrast, Jerry and Helen frequently visited their parents there.

If anyone knew the layout of the third floor well, it would be Helen, the youngest and most doted-on member of the family.

Yasin pondered for a moment but ultimately decided against asking Helen for help.

Moving stealthily up the luxurious marble staircase, Yasin arrived at the third floor and was first greeted by a lavish European-style lounge. The walls were adorned with various works of art, and the flooring was made of redwood. He estimated that stealing just one of these pieces could fetch a hefty sum.

However, selling artwork was not his priority right now.

He needed cash and weapons!

After a quick search of the lounge, Yasin moved straight to the master bedroom belonging to Vivian Sinclair and Harry Brant.

No rational person would leave cash and firearms lying around in the lounge, so their bedroom was his primary target.

The room was both luxurious and cozy, dominated by shades of purple, with soft pink lighting creating a mysterious atmosphere that evoked subtle desires.

The heart-shaped waterbed was covered with silky sheets and plush down blankets. Yasin briefly imagined the kind of pleasure one could experience on such a bed but quickly shook off the thought.

Without wasting time, he started searching the nightstands and wardrobe.

Inside the wardrobe, aside from an extensive collection of designer lingerie, he found an assortment of unusual accessories.

These items were useless in the apocalypse, but a particular set—a leash and a pair of leather handcuffs—caught Yasin's attention.

As a man in his thirties, he was well aware of their purpose. Even if he had never used them, he had seen them in movies.

"This... might actually come in handy," he mused, recalling Lena Whitmore's proud and haughty demeanor. A sly smile played on his lips as he tucked the set into his pocket.

Besides the SM set, Yasin also found a stack of cash in the corner of a nightstand.

Thirteen thousand dollars.

Carefully, he took only a thousand, leaving the rest untouched.

A thousand dollars.

Enough to buy a quality chainsaw.

Taking just a small amount shouldn't raise any suspicion from the wealthy Brant couple.

Leaving the bedroom, Yasin checked the time.

Half an hour had already passed.

Only two and a half hours remained before his return to the apocalypse!

"There were no guns in the bedroom... So where could they be?"

Yasin crept down the hallway, arriving at a locked door.

To his surprise, the door was reinforced with steel—clearly a security door.

After a brief assessment, he decided against forcing his way in.

He searched two more rooms but still found no sign of firearms.

However, in Vivian Sinclair's study, he discovered an old Tang sword stored in a wooden box.

The blade had an inscription: "Gift from Jackie Chan."

The sword was about half a meter long—short but exceptionally sharp. It felt perfectly balanced in his hands.

Vivian had tossed it into a miscellaneous storage cabinet, suggesting she didn't consider it valuable.

Yasin admired the craftsmanship, then carefully tucked the sword into his coat before hurrying downstairs.

Since he couldn't find Harry's firearms, his only option was to take a risk with the security team.

From Yasin's memories, Yasin knew that Harry's bodyguards were all retired U.S. Special Forces veterans, constantly armed and prepared.

More importantly, Yasin's subconscious held a shocking secret.

If Harry had hidden his guns so well, then the best alternative was to get them from the guards.

Yasin found an old camcorder in Vivian's study, then quietly descended to the first floor, making his way to the security and servant quarters.

The area resembled a high-end hotel, with six rooms in total, each labeled with a room number.

It was dinnertime, so the hallway was empty.

Yasin cautiously tested the doorknobs one by one. The first three rooms were locked.

At the fourth door, however, he heard muffled sounds from inside.

"Oh! Fuck me!! Shit! Oh yeah!!..."

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack smack smack..."