Obey—Or Die

Ethan heard the whispers.

He laughed.

A quiet, terrifying chuckle that shut everyone up instantly.

"What's wrong? Did the food I've been feeding you grow your balls a little too big?"

His eyes swept over the crowd.

And landed squarely on one man—Gary Haskins, the balding, doughy coward from 4A.

Gary's face drained of blood. He instinctively stumbled back.

"I told you from the beginning—when I became building leader—you follow my rules, or you die."

Then Ethan smiled.

A slow, wolfish grin.

"Guess you all forgot already."

Without warning, he drew his pistol.

BANG!

Gary's head exploded.

Blood and brain matter splattered onto the floor tiles like red ink on parchment.

The women screamed.

Someone retched.

The room went dead silent.

Only Ethan remained calm.

He holstered his weapon.

"Let me be clear—if you can't follow orders, you die. I don't negotiate with livestock."

Now they remembered who he was.

Not the guy who brought them food.

Not the calm neighbor who kept the group alive.

But the monster who killed half the building to take control.

The tyrant with the gun and the eyes of a dead man.

The one they called Ethan Cross.

"Now," he said casually, almost cheerfully. "We're going to storm Building 21 and slaughter the Wolf Pack bastards who tried to kill me."

"Anyone got a problem with that?"

Nobody answered.

Dead silence.

Then Jake Leung, always quick to act, raised his hand.

"I'm in, Boss!"

One after another, hands went up.

"I follow Ethan!"

"Yeah! Let's go kill those animals!"

Ethan smiled again—friendly, this time.

"There we go. That's the spirit."

"You think I'm unreasonable? Come on, I just killed ten of them myself. I even left the rest for you lot. I'm generous like that."

"Do your part. Fight hard. And tonight—we eat like kings."

The carrot-and-stick approach worked perfectly.

At first, they'd been scared by Gary's sudden execution. But soon enough, they were motivated by the promise of warm food.

It always came down to that: fear and hunger.

Ethan stood at the back, watching them rally.

Then he waved his gun slightly.

"Move it. Make me proud."

Like sheep heading to the slaughterhouse—except they thought they were the wolves—the group grabbed whatever weapons they had and rushed toward Building 21.

Soon, the sounds of battle echoed across the snow.

Screams. Steel. Blood.

Ethan didn't even blink.

He glanced at his Rolex—still gleaming, still ticking.

"Let them scream a little longer. I've got errands to run."

He turned to Uncle Ray, the only man he half-trusted.

"You're coming with me today. Let's roll."

—

Today's excursion wasn't critical. Just another scavenging run.

So Ethan didn't mind bringing Ray along.

As they got on the snowmobile, Ethan suddenly clutched his side.

"Took a hit earlier. My ribs are sore. Can't drive."

Ray looked at the machine, then at Ethan.

"I'll take the wheel!"

Ethan grinned, nodding.

"Perfect."

The truth?

He wasn't hurt.

But he never let anyone ride behind him.

Rule of thumb: never show your back.

They sped off into the snow.

—

The cold cut Ray's face like glass, but the old man didn't care.

He laughed like a kid.

"God, I missed this! Being outside!"

"Where to, Ethan?"

Ethan replied coolly, "City's big. Let's check out World Trade Avenue."

Thirty minutes later, they arrived.

Half-buried skyscrapers poked out of the snow like broken teeth.

Ethan and Ray got off the vehicle and went looting.

Ray, wide-eyed, dashed into the buried malls.

Designer bags. Jewelry. Luxury suits. Even supercars trapped under snow.

To him, it was a dream.

To Ethan, it was a waste of time.

But he let Ray play.

Then he noticed something—baby clothes. That's what Ray was stuffing into bags.

"Seriously?"

"You're out here grabbing diapers?"

Ray scratched his head, sheepish.

"Food's not the issue right now. But kids grow fast. No clothes, no warmth. You know."

Ethan chuckled.

He sat on a half-buried sofa.

"You and that woman of yours—things going well?"

Ray's ears turned red.

"What woman? You mean... Mei?"

"Nah. Just shacking up for warmth. Nothin' serious."

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"Well. If you're into that... I can get you someone better."

"Big chest. Wide hips. Loyal to a fault. Wants to serve."

Ray paused mid-search.

"That's... that's not necessary. I'm a decent man."

Ethan smiled.

"Sure you are."

"But I know you've been to Cherry Street."

"Double Mountain Hair Salon, right?"

Ray's shoulders twitched.

He didn't answer.

Didn't have to.

Ethan laughed and clapped his back.

"Don't worry. I got you."

"Next time I find a proper girl—warm, skilled, and grateful—I'll send her your way."

Ray said nothing.

But the look in his eyes?

Thankful.

Ethan made a mental note:

"Ray's useful. Loyal—but not stupid."

"Mei? Replaceable."

"I'll find him someone better... before I take Mei off the board."