Chapter 96

The message set the group ablaze.

That single image had already ignited their greed—now it spread like wildfire.

At a time when everyone else was starving, the man on the twentieth floor was living in comfort.

Which meant one thing—he had plenty of things hidden still.

And if they could get inside... All of it could be theirs.

Greed swallowed reason whole.

More and more people volunteered. Within minutes, they agreed to gather—ten minutes, no delay.

***

As usual, Suzy and Leonard watched everything unfold in silence.

They had left a secondary account lurking in the group, unnoticed by Mrs. Warren and the others.

Even without stepping outside, Suzy had a clear picture of everything happening.

"Looks like another show’s about to start," Leonard said.

Suzy nodded.

Truthfully, she was curious how Richard Stone would handle this.

Would he stay hidden behind his fortified walls? Or step out and face them directly?

If he chose the former, this mob couldn’t do much. His safehouse had been built at great expense—breaking in wouldn’t be easy.

If the latter...

She didn’t believe for a second that Richard hadn’t prepared weapons.

Either way, this group was in for a rough time.

What she couldn’t understand was why he kept flaunting his life online.

Was it deliberate?

Was he

inviting

people to come after him?

Otherwise... his behavior made no sense.

Unless... He was simply insane.

But... that didn’t seem likely.

Her phone buzzed again—motion detected near the camera. Suzy pulled up the feed.

Every few moments, someone passed through the fifth floor, heading upward.

All of them were adults—armed with whatever they could grab from home.

Chairs. Kitchen knives. Wooden sticks.

Anything that could be used as a weapon.

Their faces were tense, determined.

Suzy counted quickly—four people from below the fifth floor alone, including Bill.

As for how many more would join from above...

She couldn’t say.

But one thing was certain—no one wanted to let this "big fish" slip away.

—

When the hallway outside her door fell quiet again, Suzy switched back to the group chat.

Bill was urging everyone to hurry up and gather.

One by one, replies came in—

almost there

,

on the way

.

Soon, the nineteenth floor was packed.

The stairwell overflowed with bodies.

"So many people..."

"There’s gotta be more than ten."

"More than that—hey, don’t push! There’s no space left!"

"Wait till everyone’s here—then we go up together!"

...

Someone snapped a photo and posted it in the group.

Suzy tapped it open.

The dim stairwell was crammed with people, shoulder to shoulder.

Just looking at it felt suffocating.

With that many bodies packed together, the heat—and the smell—must have been unbearable.

Hannah, who had also been silently watching, immediately forwarded the image to Richard.

[Richard, something’s wrong! People know you have supplies—they’re coming for you!]

[Be careful. They’ll be there any minute.]

Inside his apartment, Richard was riding a stationary generator bike, sweat dripping down his temples.

It was part of his daily routine. Exercise—and power generation.

Two birds with one stone.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up, glancing at the message.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"Since when did Hannah become so considerate..."

Knowing her true nature, she probably just hadn’t given up yet—trying to curry favor with him.

[Got it.]

He replied casually.

Unhurried, he stepped off the bike, wiped the sweat from his neck with a towel, and walked into the bathroom.

A moment later, cool water cascaded over him.

His water supply still ran normally.

When building the safehouse, he had installed a massive water tank—enough to sustain him long-term.

And beyond that, his storage space held enough water to last a lifetime.

That space... vast, upgraded, overflowing.

He lacked nothing. Everything he needed, he had.

What he lacked... Was entertainment.

And now...

Entertainment had come knocking.

After his shower, Richard changed into a set of casual loungewear.

Right on cue, the noise began.

"Twentieth floor! Open up—we know you’re in there!!"

The reinforced door rattled under heavy blows.

This time, no one bothered with pretense. They hadn’t come to negotiate. They had come to take.

Metal clanged against metal as they hammered at the door.

Even inside, Richard could hear it clearly.

Calmly, he picked up his tablet and opened the surveillance feed.

A crowd filled the screen.

He raised an eyebrow. "That many, huh."

He activated the intercom, his voice lazy, almost amused. "You’re going to break my door at this rate."

The crowd froze for a split second. "You

are

home!"

"Yes," Richard replied evenly. "I am. And?"

His tone only fueled their anger.

Especially knowing he was inside—cool, comfortable—while they stood outside, sweating and starving.

"Let’s not waste time," Bill said. "You’ve got plenty of supplies. Share some with us."

"It’s a special situation," someone added. "We’re all struggling. As neighbors, you should help."

"Yeah—why do you get to live so well?"

"Hand over the supplies, or don’t blame us for what happens next!"

Their eyes burned with hunger—like wolves circling prey.

Richard let out a soft laugh.

"I do have supplies," he said. "But why should I give them to you?"

"We’re neighbors! People should help each other in times like this!"

"We’re not asking for much—just half. You can keep the rest."

"Open the door already."

"Use your brain. There’s only one of you—and all of us."

Voices overlapped, growing louder, more aggressive.

They waited for his answer.

Richard paused, as if considering.

Then—

"Hmm. You make some good points," he said lightly. "But... what if I refuse?"

Bill’s face darkened instantly.

"Refuse? Then don’t blame us for taking it ourselves! Come on—go!"

At his command, the crowd surged forward.

The door shook violently under the assault.

Even reinforced metal had its limits.

Under the relentless blows, dents began to form.

The frame rattled, groaning under pressure.

It looked like it wouldn’t hold much longer.

From inside, Richard’s voice drifted out again—calm, almost conversational:

"That door was pretty expensive. If you break it... you’ll have to pay for it."