Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

Chapter 117: A wounded snake

​The next day, April decided she was going to relax. Yes, she needed to go see her bunker and yes, she still had to restock empty containers but... she was only human, right?

She chose to savor the quiet, peaceful nature of having absolutely no immediate crisis to worry about.

Well, to be honest, she was only taking a break because Samuel was busy.

He was down in the lower villa with Xavier, utilizing his organizational genius to help the tycoon coordinate the massive supply shipments and security details for the new Reed mountain bunker.

He would be busy for a couple of days so April had​ to either move around on her own trying to sort herself out or wait until he’s less busy. Of course, she chose to be a lazy and jobless woman for the day.

But at the back of her mind, she was waiting for a text or a call from Nat that he was ready to test out the miracle water and see it in action so she could start her black market trade already.

She needed a lot of money for the infrastructure she was planning to develop around her hillside fortress.

But just as it was in the back of her mind, she let it stay at the back of her mind.

She had more important things to do.

And by important things, she meant the absolute necessity of doing absolutely nothing but eating and playing games.

​She spent the entire afternoon sitting in a sunlit armchair in her suite, dressed in a loose sweater, her thumbs lazily tapping away at Winecraft. Her defense towers were completely rebuilt, and the digital peasants were keeping their distance but that same faceless intruder still liked to attack her over and over.

She had contemplated whether to make them an ally since they seem to play well, or to just make them enemy number one. It was frustrating but it was too good to take her eyes off.

As the evening shadows began to creep across her bedroom floor, April’s phone suddenly buzzed violently on the cushions. Because she had been anticipating the call, she switched to using the tablet to avoid any inconveniences like a sudden phone call.

​She picked it up. Nat’s name flashed on the screen.

​"Sweetheart," Nat’s deep, rough voice rumbled through the speaker the moment she answered.

He sounded entirely awake, a dangerous edge to his tone. "Get your sneakers on. I’ve got a wounded snake down at the docks. Come over so you can fix em."

​April’s eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the wall. A wounded snake.

​She instantly understood what the metaphor meant. A guy who was right on the absolute brink of death. Likely the traitor who tried to poison his sausage from that morning because he definitely wouldn’t do that to a loyal follower. She strongly believed so when the word was snake, not dog.

Nat was already setting the stage, demanding to see the miracle water in action before he gave her his full underground backing.

​"Send the location. I’ll be there," April stated flatly, hanging up the phone.

​She stood up, tying her hair into a tight ponytail. Samuel was still fully occupied with Xavier’s logistics, and she didn’t want to use the estate’s private drivers—she didn’t want anyone logging her coordinates when she visited the black-market sectors.

Rufus lifted his head the moment he sensed she was getting ready to leave.

"I’ll be back soon, Rufus." She said to him, stroking his head. "Just wait for me. The maids will give you snacks soon."

​Walking down to the main gate, she informed the maids to prepare something for Rufus and then told the front security guard to simply have a standard vehicle drop her at the base of the mountain ridge near the main highway. From there, she planned to take a cab.

The driver complied without a word of complaint.

​Ten minutes later, April slid into the back seat of a city cab, reciting the dark warehouse address Nat had texted her.

​The warehouse at the docks smelled heavily of rusted iron, stagnant saltwater, and raw copper. The sun had completely vanished, leaving the harbor cloaked in a thick, foggy darkness.

​When April stepped through the heavy metal side door, the dim overhead lights revealed a grim, bloody scene.

Standing in the center of the concrete floor was Nat, looking entirely pristine in a new, perfectly fitted black button-down shirt, his red hair messy as he leaned against a steel pillar.

​Right at his feet lay a man. Or at least he was.

​The traitor was barely recognizable as human. His face was a deformed, swollen mask of purple bruises, his legs twisted at unnatural, agonizing angles where the bones had been systematically shattered.

Deep, jagged lacerations covered his chest, and his breath was coming out in wet, ragged gasps that filled the quiet room. He was dying, his vitality rapidly plummeting toward absolute zero.

Does he have a thing with deforming people? April wondered as she stepped closer, walking up to the edge of the bloodstain, her expression completely cool and detached.

She didn’t flinch, and she didn’t look away. It was the exact same unbothered calm she had displayed when Nat had smashed Leo into a deformed state days ago.

It’s a nasty habit, she added to her mental note.

​"Ah, sweetheart, you’re finally here," Nat grinned, his bloodshot eyes gleaming behind his adjusted shades as he looked down at her. He gestured toward the dying body with his boot. "Here’s the cook who thought my breakfast sausages needed a little extra spice this morning. He’s got about three minutes of air left in his lungs. Show me the magic."

​April didn’t waste words. She reached into her blazer pocket, her fingers taking out the small glass vial she had kept there while in the cab.

​She stepped right into the bloodstain, kneeling down beside the shattered man. Without a hint of hesitation, she forced his broken jaw open and poured the entire crystal-clear fluid down his throat.

​For a second, nothing happened.

​Then, a sudden, soft, ethereal white glow pulsed beneath the man’s skin.

​Nat’s grin completely seemed to spread even wider and his eyes grew even more chaotic as he leaned forward to watch more closely.

Right before his eyes, the deep, ragged gasps instantly stabilized. The broken, twisted bones in the man’s legs let out a series of sharp, sickening CRACK sounds as they forcibly realigned themselves under the skin.

The purple hematomas and bleeding gashes across his face rapidly faded, the torn tissue knitting itself back together in a matter of seconds until his skin was entirely smooth.

​The man let out a long, clear breath, his eyes snapping open as his vital signs completely stabilized. He was fully healed, the lethal toxin and physical trauma completely wiped out of his system.

​Nat stood frozen for three heavy seconds, staring at the concrete floor. He slowly reached up, rubbing his chin.

​"Well... son of a gun," Nat whispered, a wild, dangerous chuckle bubbling up from his throat as he looked back up at April. "It actually works. It really damn works."