Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

Chapter 115: Eating Hobby

Within minutes, a silver platter containing a premium, thick-cut porterhouse steak—completely unseasoned and raw—was set directly in front of the dog.

Rufus gave a low, satisfied huff and began to tear into the meat with absolute grace.

​"Eat up, little seer," Nat rumbled, leaning back in his seat and checking his new gold watch. "You were looking at those clothes like you wanted to swallow the whole racks. Must’ve burned a lot of fuel."

​April didn’t argue.

"Well, I did only have a piece of melon for breakfast," She muttered as she pulled a plate of grilled salmon closer, her small hands moving with utilitarian precision as she began to eat. "When one is busy, they often forget what their body needs the most."

"I hear ya," he mumbled in a deep growl as he crossed one leg over the other, leaning over on his chin resting on his palm, watching her closely. "Happens to me all the time." He said. "But then the satisfaction of getting things done just makes the hunger you forgot come back in a large wave," he laughed deeply and then leaned back against the chair.

"Well, it’s done," she said as the food reached her tongue and she closed her eyes at the absolute taste of it. It was very savory.

Nat watched her for a moment longer before he dug into his own meal, a content chuckle rumbling in his chest.

The quiet of the restaurant, combined with the solid weight of food finally hitting her empty stomach, felt incredibly grounding. It was wonderful.

​Across their table, Samuel sat with rigid, untouchable elegance, a small glass of mineral water in front of him.

He didn’t order a single thing, his sharp eyes fixed entirely on the warlord across from them, maintaining his post as an unyielding wall between his master and the danger radiating from the man.

​After the meal, April ordered dessert and she definitely loved their cake parfait. It made her want to melt.

"So, you’ve got a sweet tooth," Nat said out loud, as if taking mental notes was not enough to affirm it.

"I just love delicious and sweet things generally," she said, swiping a finger over her lips to wipe the frosting lingering there. "You could say, this one is my own hobby."

"Eating?" Nat asked over a bark of a laugh vibrating in his chest.

"Well, it might be funny but it’s my hobby. Deal with it." She claimed and then her phone chimed on the table. She picked it up and saw a credit notification of fifty thousand dollars. It seems the private courier Samuel sent has gotten it done. She thought with a satisfied smile.

"You know," Nat called out and she lifted her gaze. "You smile at the oddest moments and the oddest things too," he mentioned and she narrowed her eyes, her expression falling into that deadpan seriousness.

Well, excuse me if your current neurological impairment does not help you understand human behavior properly. She thought, her spoon in her mouth as her eyes bore darkly into his face and he laughed again.

"Cute."

The plates were cleared after April was done with her cake parfait, and Nat leaned forward, his eyes catching the low candlelight behind his dark shades. "So, you got any more of those warnings before I head back down to the docks tonight?"

​April paused, setting her napkin down. She looked at the red-haired lord.

Yes, despite his absolute madness, he had dropped two billion dollars on a mountain fortress for her without a second thought, and he had spent the last three hours letting her go on a shopping spree, getting a mountain of clothes all on his tab. Not to mention how she had barfed over him. She didn’t even want to think about it.

It was only fair for her not to charge him for any readings in the meantime.

"I’ll give you a reading now," she said and the glowing crystalline orb manifested in her hand.

[System Notice: Eye of Destiny (Rank 2) Activated.]

"I never get tired of that sight," he mumbled, sounding impressed and she looked down at the neon lighting globe in her hand, reading out the information about the events in his nearest future.

​"Tonight, you will initiate a conflict," April stated, her voice dropping into a steady whisper. "You are planning to expand your territory for the sake of your planned hoarding for the apocalypse and you plan to do that by completely wiping out the Scorpions."

​Nat’s lopsided grin widened, a dangerous, sharp glint in his eyes. "Go on."

​"The battle will be bloody, but you will survive it without any permanent damage," she continued. "However, there is a bottleneck. During the ambush, an individual will attempt to drive a blade into your flank. Always watch your left, Mr. Collins. If you are careless, the wound will be annoying to deal with."

​"Got it. Watch the left," Nat chuckled deeply, his chest vibrating.

​"Furthermore," April added, her expression turning incredibly solemn, "tomorrow morning, you must be extremely careful regarding your breakfast. Do not eat any sausages."

​Nat blinked, his grin pausing. "Sausages? Why the hell would I avoid those?"

​"Because someone in your inner circle is going to poison them," she said flatly.

​Instead of turning pale or looking enraged, Nat let out a sudden, delighted bark of a laugh, leaning back against the leather cushions. "Ha! A traitor. Beautiful. I always look forward to the day these snakes finally try to bite me. It keeps the blood pumping."

​April looked at him, her inner voice simply thinking, Psycho.

In any case, he was in no danger of dying. He’ll live so that was fine.

​By the time the heavy G-Wagon rumbled back up the winding mountain roads toward the Reed estate, the night had grown completely dark.

​When the vehicle pulled up to the grand stone courtyard, Nat hopped out first. He leaned back into the open door, his chaotic eyes locking onto April’s face.

​"I had fun today, little seer," he rumbled, his lips pulling into a lazy smirk. "Get some rest. You look small in that big blazer."

​April tilted her head back slightly. What part of getting thrown up on, Rufus getting threatened by a needle, spending a ton of money on expensive clothes and dealing with a madman was fun?

Still, she couldn’t deny the deep, satisfying high of the hoarding spree. "Goodnight, Mr. Collins."

​With a rough chuckle, Nat turned and strode out toward his private transport, his broad shoulders seeming even broader the farther he went.