Chapter 4 500 Tables of Five-Star Hotel

Kenneth and the two women pushed their three heavily loaded carts back to the apartment complex. Many neighbors saw them along the way and began to whisper among themselves. Kenneth didn’t care. Some had already spotted him shopping earlier, and Grace and Morgan would undoubtedly spread the news. Hiding was pointless. In his previous life, Kenneth had experienced how, during the apocalypse, people would break into homes to steal supplies. He anticipated the same would happen again. But this time, he was ready. He intended to make them watch his stockpile helplessly, unable to take anything, leaving them furious and desperate. Kenneth and Grace lived in the same building. As a Walmart warehouse manager, Kenneth was well-known in the neighborhood, often helping residents get discounts on goods. When the trio returned with their carts full of supplies, an older woman and her grandson approached. The woman’s eyes gleamed as she saw the food and fresh meat in the carts. "Kenneth, why do you have so much? Is it surplus from the warehouse? You can’t use it all yourself. Why not share some with the neighbors?" The woman, Zoey Quinn, worked on the community council and often acted as though she had authority. She had a habit of taking advantage of others, frequently asking Kenneth for discounted goods. In Kenneth’s past life, she had nagged him into sharing food, and when the neighbors raided his home, she had been one of the most aggressive. Grace and Morgan, wanting to avoid conflict, quickly said, "These are Kenneth’s things. We’re just helping him bring them back." Zoey smiled and turned to Kenneth. "Kenneth, these look like warehouse items. How about sharing some with me?" she said. Meanwhile, her grandson, Jovan Flint, climbed onto one of the carts and grabbed a box of imported chocolates, worth over twenty-eight dollars. Despite his age, he had a sharp eye for expensive things. Kenneth grabbed the chocolates back immediately. "Sorry, this is for me," he said coldly. With the apocalypse so near, he didn’t even bother pretending to be polite. Zoey’s expression soured. "You..." she began, furious. Jovan started crying, demanding the chocolates. "He’s just a kid. Why not let him have a box? I’ll pay you back later," Zoey said firmly. Kenneth smirked. With mobile payments, paying instantly was simple. Her promise to "pay later" was clearly an excuse. "I said these are mine. If you want chocolate, go buy it yourself," he replied curtly. He motioned for Grace and Morgan to follow him, leaving Zoey fuming. As they walked away, Zoey’s angry shouts echoed behind them, but Kenneth ignored her. Zoey lived with her grandson while her son and daughter-in-law worked elsewhere. She usually only bought enough food for one day. When the apocalypse hit, her supplies would quickly run out. In Kenneth’s previous life, he had pitied and helped them. This time, without his support, Zoey and her troublesome grandson wouldn’t last more than ten days. Kenneth wasn’t interested in wasting time on them. It wasn’t about cruelty. In the apocalypse, survival would be hard enough without worrying about others’ lives. His survival would always come first. Once the three carts of supplies were safely in his apartment, Kenneth dismissed Grace and Morgan. "Kenneth, don’t forget you promised to treat us," Grace said with a playful wink. Her attempt to charm him only left Kenneth feeling disgusted. He responded perfunctorily, showing no real interest. The two women had planned to stay longer, hoping to uncover proof that Kenneth was a secret heir. But his clear lack of enthusiasm made them leave reluctantly. As soon as they were gone, Kenneth activated his dimensional space and moved all the supplies inside. He wanted to monitor whether the items would remain unchanged while stored. By the time he finished, it was late. Instead of going to bed, Kenneth took out paper and a pen, determined to map out a thorough plan for the coming month. Although he was usually easygoing, the need to survive drove him to push himself. "If I want to live comfortably in the apocalypse, the first thing I need is food. That’s relatively simple. Beyond my daily purchases, I can gather more from the warehouse. But I need to be cautious, making my move only a few days before everything collapses to avoid drawing suspicion. Ending up in jail would be a death sentence." He wrote "food" in his notebook and ticked it off. "Next, heating. When the apocalypse begins, energy will be scarce, and air conditioning will fail. A fireplace is the most practical solution." In Elyria’s frigid winters, fireplaces were a tried-and-true method of staying warm. "That means I’ll need to renovate the house and add insulation." The thought of renovations reminded Kenneth of the time his home was ransacked in his past life. He resolved to prevent that from happening again. "The house needs to be fortified with thick steel plates capable of resisting standard explosives." Desperate times would push people to desperate measures, and Kenneth knew he couldn’t afford to gamble with safety. He had experienced death once already and was determined to avoid a repeat. Building the safe house wouldn’t be too challenging. Valkyrean had elite security firms offering custom-built fortified shelters for the wealthy. Kenneth remembered a billionaire from his past life who had constructed a fortress capable of withstanding small-scale nuclear attacks. "Then, there’s medicine. I can’t afford to get sick without treatment. Walmart has a good stock of basic remedies for colds and fevers, but that’s not enough. The Cambrian storm will last decades. I need to prepare for the long term." Luckily, Kenneth had strong connections in Valkyrean. As a warehouse manager, he knew people in hospital supply chains. With enough money, he could get whatever medication he needed. Once these issues were sorted, Kenneth tapped his pen on the notebook. "One final problem remains," he thought, his eyes narrowing. "Weapons." In the post-apocalypse, morality would crumble, and violence over resources would be rampant. Survival would depend on firepower. Kenneth wasn’t a skilled fighter, but with the right weapons, skill became irrelevant. "Machetes, crowbars, and axes will be easy enough to find. Crossbows, air rifles, and compound bows have their sources too. But the ultimate choice is a katana. That will require access to the black market." Kenneth stroked his chin thoughtfully. It wouldn’t be easy, but with enough money and time, he believed he could make it happen. He spent the next three hours perfecting his plan before indulging in a hot shower. Finally, he climbed into his bed, letting the day’s efforts fade as he drifted into a deep sleep. The following morning, Kenneth got out of bed, feeling groggy from a restless night filled with nightmares. Each time he woke up in panic, he reminded himself he was still in his warm, comfortable bed. Finally, he breathed a long sigh of relief. The trauma from his past experience of the apocalypse had left an indelible mark on him. Determined not to repeat his previous failures, Kenneth strengthened his resolve to be fully prepared this time. After making himself breakfast, he opened his dimensional space to inspect the supplies he had stored. What he found brought him joy. The meat, fruits, and vegetables he had stored overnight remained exactly as they were when he first placed them. While meat might not show changes over such a short period, fruits and vegetables usually lost freshness quickly. Yet, in the dimensional space, they appeared completely unaffected. "My dimensional space operates independently of this world. Maybe time flows slower there, or maybe it doesn’t flow at all. This is fantastic! Now I can store anything without fear of spoilage." But when Kenneth checked the live fish he had stored, he saw that they had all died. Oddly, the fish looked lifelike and showed no signs of decay. "Living creatures can’t survive long inside," Kenneth mused, stroking his chin. "Guess the idea of moving in myself won’t work." This realization didn’t bother him much. The white void of the dimensional space couldn’t compare to the comfort of his home. As long as it allowed him to store supplies, it served its purpose. Kenneth’s thoughts quickly turned to other possibilities. If fresh produce stayed preserved, could the same apply to prepared meals? Although Kenneth could cook, he knew his abilities fell short of a professional chef’s. Depending on his own cooking indefinitely would quickly grow tiresome. He decided to call Valkyrean’s most renowned five-star hotel. "Hello, this is the Grand Fortuna Hotel. How can I assist you today?" the receptionist greeted him. Kenneth got straight to the point. "I’m hosting a banquet at home for three days. I’d like to order food for 500 tables." The receptionist was taken aback. Even for a five-star hotel, preparing food for 500 tables would be a massive undertaking. Their banquets typically ranged from four hundred and twenty to five hundred and sixty dollars per table, meaning this order could exceed seventy thousand dollars. Unable to make a decision on their own, the receptionist said, "Please hold for a moment while I connect you with our manager." After a short pause, a new voice came through. "Good morning, sir. This is Henry Crowther, manager of the Grand Fortuna Hotel. May I have your name?"