Negotiations and Intentions

Ethan had opened strong—cold, sharp, and unyielding.

Celia Chen, in Building 9, paced back and forth in her unit.

Not from nerves.

Just to stay warm.

She wore multiple layers, but still tried to look "presentable." Her outermost coat featured a fur collar—fox fur, no less.

When Ethan sent that chilly message, she took a deep breath.

"Just as expected. Not an easy man to deal with…"

The rumors about Ethan were everywhere.

He'd supposedly killed half his building.

Was armed to the teeth.

Even had a sniper rifle.

People told stories in whispers—about the man in 25#, the man you didn't dare provoke.

Celia collected herself and typed out the lines she'd rehearsed in her head a hundred times.

"Mr. Cross, it's an honor. Your reputation precedes you. We've all heard the stories."

"Now that we know you can travel outside the complex, Building 9 would like to propose a partnership."

Ethan read the message.

Smirked.

"Partnership?"

"And what exactly do you have to offer me?"

"Partnerships are about equal exchange, Celia. You understand that, don't you?"

Celia replied quickly:

"We've had very few casualties. We still have 76 able-bodied residents."

"You've got the snowmobile and weapons. We have manpower."

"Out there, the world has collapsed. Anything buried under the snow is up for grabs."

"With your mobility and our labor, we could rebuild from nothing!"

Ethan scratched his ear.

"Sounds flashy. But it's all hot air."

"Most people don't even know if they'll live to tomorrow, and you're talking about building an empire?"

Celia hesitated.

"That's why we need you to supply us with food first."

"Once we're stable, our people can do whatever you need."

Ethan had already lost interest.

An MLM queen talking about loyalty and long-term growth? Please.

Too lazy to keep typing, he sent a voice message:

"Yeah. No thanks. Not interested."

Celia panicked a little.

She quickly shot back a text:

"Everyone's watching you now. You've become the envy of the entire complex."

"If you give us food, we'll remain neutral."

"I don't think you want us as enemies, do you?"

Now Ethan's expression shifted slightly.

Finally… something real.

All that other crap was fluff.

This?

This was a veiled threat.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"So what you're saying is... people from other buildings do want to come after me?"

"Funny. I'm still here. No one's tried."

He was testing her.

Celia knew it—but had no choice. If she wanted to earn his respect, she had to give up something real.

"You're smart, Mr. Cross. You know how it works. When someone holds something precious, others will covet it."

"You're the only one who can leave the compound. Everyone else is just waiting to starve."

"If you were them… wouldn't you be jealous?"

"They haven't moved yet. But it's only a matter of time."

"All we ask is food. That's it. Keep us fed, and we stay out of your way."

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

From a tactical point of view—this was threat wrapped in diplomacy.

"Oh? So if I say no, you're going to attack Building 25?"

His tone dropped several degrees.

Celia shivered—but quickly composed herself.

"I trust you won't make that mistake."

"Even if you win, what do you gain by fighting us?"

She was betting on distance.

Building 9 and 25 were far apart. A direct strike by Ethan would stretch his resources and leave him vulnerable.

"We just want to survive," she continued. "And with my organizational skills and your firepower, we could rule this entire complex."

Ethan's lips curled into a mocking smile.

"That's the boldest beggar I've ever met."

Celia bit her lip.

"It's not begging. It's partnership."

"Let me think about it," Ethan said coldly. "You'll get a reply later."

And with that, he shut the chat.

He dropped the phone on his leg and leaned back, thinking.

Celia Chen?

She wasn't even on the list of people he took seriously.

One building. Big deal.

They had no idea how many guns he had. Or how much ammo.

If they came for him, he'd wipe them all out alone, one shot at a time.

Still…

She wasn't the only one thinking this way.

There were 29 other buildings in Crestview Heights.

How many of them were eyeing his snowmobile?

How many were willing to die trying to take it?

Even now, someone desperate enough—out of food, out of options—might try it.

And if they united?

A coordinated attack?

He might run out of bullets before they ran out of bodies.

Ethan looked around his apartment—his fortress of titanium alloy and reinforced engineering.

His walls could stop artillery.

Even if the whole complex attacked him?

They still wouldn't break through.

Not unless they leveled the entire building.

"But how likely is that… really?"

He considered the logistics.

They had no power. No heavy tools.

No drills. No hammers. No jackhammers.

And it was freezing out there.

"They're starving. They'd freeze to death before they bring down a wall."

"Most of them can't even walk outside for more than ten minutes."

"No. They're not the problem."

"Not yet."