Adrian Shaw listened to her indifferent reply, and the pressure in his chest grew heavier instead of easing.
It made no sense.
He was used to control—used to attention, admiration, and silent obedience. For years, Valentina's gaze had followed him wherever he went. Her emotions revolved around him, her world orbiting his existence.
Now?
She treated him like background noise.
That realization irritated him more than he expected.
Anger flashed through his eyes. He took a step forward, his voice sharp and accusatory.
"Valentina! What kind of trick are you trying to pull now?"
He clenched his fists.
"I'm telling you this clearly—no matter what you do, it's impossible for me to like you."
In his mind, everything made sense.
This had to be a tactic.
A desperate attempt to regain his attention.
Valentina looked at him calmly.
Standing in front of her was still a boy who hadn't truly stepped into the real world. His posture carried arrogance without foundation, confidence without bloodshed. Immaturity clung to him from head to toe.
She suddenly understood.
This wasn't love.
This was displacement.
The servant stopped serving, and the master felt uncomfortable.
If she were the old Valentina, she would have been thrilled just by his approach. Her heart would have raced. Her eyes would have sparkled.
But she wasn't that person anymore.
She swallowed the last bite of bread and spoke plainly.
"Don't worry. I won't like you anymore."
No anger.
No resentment.
No hesitation.
She turned and walked upstairs without another glance.
Adrian stood frozen in place.
For a brief moment, an unfamiliar emptiness crept into his chest.
Valentina closed her bedroom door and exhaled slowly.
She had no interest in emotional games.
Right now, she had something far more important to prepare for.
The North.
She had studied the map carefully. The northernmost region of the Empire was a brutal place—extreme cold, unstable Contamination Zones, and frequent Sentinel deployments.
Survival there required preparation.
Fortunately, the Wen household now treated her like she didn't exist.
No one questioned where she went.
No one asked what she was doing.
That indifference was freedom.
8:00 PM
Valentina slipped out of the mansion.
She turned left, then right, deliberately avoiding main streets. After confirming there were no surveillance cameras, she entered a narrow alley.
There, she changed her clothes.
A dark jacket.
Neutral pants.
Gloves.
A cap pulled low.
A mask covering most of her face.
The light-brain system in this world was far too advanced.
She had no intention of leaving a digital trail.
Following a set of coordinates, she arrived at a dimly lit street and spotted a hooded figure waiting in the shadows.
"Deal," Valentina said calmly.
The figure's voice was hoarse.
"Follow me."
She did.
They entered what looked like a run-down shop. The front was abandoned, windows covered in dust and grime. But beneath it—
A staircase descended underground.
The moment Valentina stepped inside, her eyes narrowed.
Weapons.
Rows and rows of them.
Blades. Firearms. Modified equipment. Things that clearly didn't belong in legal markets.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
Impressive.
"Pick anything," the hooded person said casually, leaning against a chair.
Valentina glanced at him.
The hunched posture was gone.
Under the robe was a body filled with restrained power—lean, balanced, trained.
The disguise had been deliberate.
Voice. Movement. Presence.
A clever act.
In the later stages of the apocalypse, Valentina had learned one lesson well:
The most dangerous enemies didn't look dangerous at all.
Some zombies had evolved intelligence. They blended into crowds, waiting patiently for prey.
This man's disguise would fool most people.
But not her.
Still, she didn't care about his secrets.
They were nothing more than buyer and seller.
Her gaze swept across the weapons before settling.
She picked up a dagger—small, sharp, perfectly balanced.
Then a compact pistol.
Finally, a sniper rifle.
She tested the weight, nodded slightly, and placed them on the counter.
No matter the world, a gun meant security.
Because of the large purchase, the hooded man tossed her a sealed box.
"Bonus," he said.
She didn't ask questions.
The Wen family might not care about her anymore, but they had never been stingy with money.
After payment was confirmed, Valentina left without lingering.
The hooded man watched her disappear into the night.
Then, with a slow movement, he removed the robe entirely.
A black tank top clung to his muscular frame. His posture straightened fully now—no trace of weakness remaining.
His wrist interface flashed.
He tapped it casually.
A holographic projection appeared.
A man with strikingly handsome features filled the air—sharp eyes, battle-hardened presence, authority etched into every line of his face.
Marcus Holt.
"Brother," the man on the projection said with a relaxed smile. "You asked me to investigate. I've confirmed everything."
This was Harrison Cole.
He blinked, his eyes carrying a playful glint.
"The eldest daughter of the Wen family is nothing special. Barely passed her academy courses. Weak physical condition. Only her face stands out."
He shrugged.
"She's also obsessed with Adrian Shaw. Chases him everywhere. No outstanding qualities at all."
Harrison leaned closer to the projection.
"Brother, are you sure you want this marriage?"
Marcus Holt's expression didn't change.
"This was my grandfather's final wish," he replied calmly. "As long as she behaves, I'll allow her to stay."
The communication ended.
Harrison clicked his interface off and smirked.
Luckily, he had no childhood marriage agreements.
Then his gaze drifted to another message on his light brain.
Gene Match Notification.
User Number 008.
He frowned.
Curious, he tapped it.
A prompt appeared.
"To unlock detailed information, please recharge 10,000 Imperial Credits."
"…10,000?"
Harrison laughed.
"These people have truly gone insane from poverty."
He dismissed it without a second thought.
Back at the Wen mansion, Valentina climbed over the rear wall with practiced ease.
Her fingers found the drainpipe. One push, one swing—she slipped through her bedroom window smoothly.
No alarms.
No witnesses.
Using the cover of night, she opened her wardrobe and packed only practical clothes into her bag.
Simple. Durable. Easy to move in.
Then she went downstairs.
She emptied the household's stored nutrient solutions into her backpack.
In the slums, these were priceless.
Here?
They were emergency supplies that expired unused and were thrown away without regret.
She packed a few more essentials and finally lay down.
Sleep came instantly.
Eight hours later—
A shrill scream shattered the morning silence.
"Thief! There's a thief!!!"
The housekeeper's voice echoed downstairs.
Valentina opened her eyes slowly.
She didn't move.
Downstairs, chaos followed.
The housekeeper wailed about missing nutrient solutions.
Father waved it off impatiently.
"What are you shouting for? It's just supplies. If they're gone, buy more!"
Mother frowned.
"Anything else missing means?"
The housekeeper checked again, then shook her head.
"No."
"Then replace them," Father said coldly.
Breakfast ended.
Only then did they remember Valentina.
Just as Father was about to call for her, footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Valentina appeared.
She wore a black T-shirt, work pants, long boots, and a navy cap pulled low. Her face was bare—no makeup—yet stunningly clear.
Under the table, Elena's fingers clenched.
Jealousy flashed in her eyes.
She had grown up in the slums. Her skin would never be as fair, no matter how much money she spent.
Everything that belonged to Valentina should have been hers.
But it doesn't matter, Elena thought smugly.
She's going to the North.
Father stood abruptly.
His first thought—
She was running away.
"Guards! Tie her up!!!"