Elsa:"Hey… I heard you've got uncontaminated water and food over there. Could you give me some? Thanks!"
Elric couldn't help but chuckle faintly, the sound dry and humorless.
True to form, she spoke politely—the message was formatted nicely, used proper punctuation, included a greeting and closing. The veneer of civilization and manners.
Yet the word "give" betrayed everything. Gave away her selfishness and entitlement like a neon sign in the darkness.
She hadn't even offered to pay or trade. Hadn't mentioned what she might provide in return. Hadn't asked about terms or conditions.
Just "give me some"—as if he were a charity, as if resources in the apocalypse were freely distributed to anyone who asked politely enough.
The chaos outside had made everyone desperate for clean supplies. People were killing each other over bottled water and canned soup. Yet here she was, casually requesting them as if they were free samples at a grocery store.
The disconnect between her expectation and reality was almost comical.
Elric's fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, considering various responses. He could be diplomatic, could play along with her delusion. Could pretend they were still living in the old world where social niceties mattered.
Then he typed calmly, his message blunt and direct:
Elric:"If you want food and water, be prepared to come here in person. Nothing else will be provided."
He didn't sugarcoat it, didn't waste words on niceties or explanations. The message was clear in its implications—come in person meant accepting his terms, meant putting herself in his power, meant acknowledging the new hierarchy.
Survival wasn't about manners. It was about action and understanding power dynamics.
With the message sent, watching the "delivered" status change to "read," Elric leaned back against the couch cushions, already reviewing the stockpiles in his mind like a general surveying his resources.
Clean water—tens of thousands of bottles now, thanks to Natasha's contributions. More than he could drink in a lifetime, enough to supply a small community.
Roasted lamb—that magnificent pile of perfectly cooked meat, still mysteriously warm in his System Space.
Instant noodles—cases and cases of them, various flavors, enough variety to prevent taste fatigue.
And the rest of the supplies amassed in System Space—canned goods, dried fruits, medical supplies, batteries, everything necessary for long-term survival.
He was, objectively speaking, one of the richest people in this new world. Not in money, which was worthless now, but in the only currency that mattered—resources.
If Elsa arrived, if she actually had the courage to leave whatever shelter she'd found and make the dangerous journey here, she would have to comply with his terms—or leave empty-handed.
There would be no negotiation, no middle ground, no appeals to past friendship or shared history.
In this new world, Elric had learned the fundamental lesson that separated survivors from corpses: only those who adapted to the rules could survive.
And if she tried to play games, if she attempted to manipulate him like she had in college, if she thought she could use her looks and charm to get special treatment—
He could always deal with her later, once she was in his grasp, once she'd accepted his protection and become dependent.
The Emotional Aura would tell him immediately if she harbored hostile intentions. The Thousand Eyes would show him if she was planning betrayal. He had all the advantages now.
Outside, the wind rattled the apartment windows with increasing violence, as if trying to force entry. The sound was constant now, a white noise of destruction.
Civilizations were collapsing block by block, neighborhood by neighborhood. Resources were scarce and growing scarcer. Every person's true nature was showing, stripped of societal pretense.
Elric's eyes narrowed as he considered his growing collection, cataloging them mentally like pieces on a game board.
Natasha—loyal and alert, showing genuine attachment. A steady resource, reliable.
Jenna—proud and stubborn, emotionally distant but physically compliant. A reluctant participant who'd broken faster than expected.
Elsa—cunning and selfish, a potential resource if she could be properly controlled. A white lotus that needed careful handling.
All of them had roles to play in the growth of the Abyssal Tree, whether they knew it or not. All of them were contributing to his ascension, to his accumulation of power in this new world.
And with the Staring Fruit's abilities now fully operational, with Emotional Aura revealing their true feelings and Thousand Eyes showing him everything within five thousand meters, Elric could finally see exactly what everyone felt—and plan accordingly.
No more surprises. No more betrayals catching him off guard. No more trusting people who smiled while planning to stab him in the back.
This was better. Cleaner. More honest in its dishonesty.
He glanced at his phone one more time, checking if Elsa had responded yet.
Nothing. She was probably still processing his message, trying to figure out what it meant, whether he was serious.
She'd respond eventually. They always did, once hunger set in.
Elric set the phone aside and closed his eyes, activating Thousand Eyes briefly to scan the surrounding area.
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