The Splendid Equestrian Club once boasted a magnificent, high-end exterior. Inside, the decor was classic and exceptionally unique.
But returning here today, Flora Bloom couldn’t help but sigh. The apocalypse had begun less than three days ago, yet the club’s illuminated sign was already shattered and dangling. The mont they stepped inside, Blondie and his n slamd the main door shut, ostensibly for their safety.
Once Flora Bloom was inside, she saw that the once-pristine white walls were now stained with blood that had yet to dry. Worse, the air was thick with the scent of debauchery.
Having lived through ten years of the apocalypse, Flora Bloom knew exactly what that sll ant. ’It’s only the second day,’ she thought, ’and an equestrian club has already degenerated into this. What must other places be like?’
’Besides, judging by the way Blondie and the muscular man act, it doesn’t seem like their personalities changed after the apocalypse. They were probably up to these kinds of shady dealings even before, just acting on habit.’
The group was led to a lounge on the second floor of the club.
This lounge had originally been for the exclusive use of VIP clients. Upon entering, everyone except for Flora Bloom and a couple of others began to admire the furnishings and layout.
"Only VIPs can get into this club. I heard that getting a VIP mbership here costs at least 500,000."
It has to be said that wherever there are won, there’s gossip. And the topic of this gossip was invariably tied to their everyday vanity and desires.
"You’re telling ! I also heard that 500,000 is just for the mbership. Every ti you co to rent a horse, you have to put down a security deposit—and that deposit alone is another 500,000. Plus, it depends on the class of horse you rent. A top-tier racehorse could go for five million."
"That just shows how little you know. I heard Young Master Underwood himself keeps a purebred steed here. A single horse like that must be worth several million, right?"
As the conversation drifted to Shelton Underwood, the topic naturally shifted to Flora Bloom.
Then, Belle Bloom’s voice drifted over, laced with resentnt and sarcasm.
"You’ll have to ask my sister, Flora Bloom, about that. Young Master Underwood used to bring her to this club all the ti. She knows her way around here far better than we do."
Prompted by Belle Bloom, several girls suddenly turned to Flora. In the comfort of the lounge, they seed to have forgotten the earlier friction between the sisters. Full of excitent, they now looked at Flora and asked,
"Flora, Young Master Underwood is your boyfriend, right? Does he really keep a horse here? Do you know how much it’s worth?"
Flora Bloom glanced at her sister, then replied coolly, "I’m not sure."
It wasn’t that she was being coy; she had been reborn ten years into the past and had long since forgotten many things. ’How could I possibly rember how much one horse cost?’
She only rembered how, after the base cities were established, Crystal Cores had replaced currency. Five of the lowest-grade white Crystal Cores could barely trade for a single punctured package of instant noodles. Dozens of Crystal Cores weren’t enough to buy one wilted vegetable.
’Food is the cornerstone of survival in the apocalypse.’
’Strength is what allows you to live like a human being in the apocalypse.’
’And to gain strength, you have to leave the safe zones, kill zombies, and harvest Crystal Cores.’
Listening to the group drone on about luxury brands, about which young master or miss was worth how much, about who was caught up in the latest scandal, about so celebrity cheating on their spouse...
It almost made Flora Bloom want to laugh.
’Is this what they an by "a full belly leads to wicked thoughts"?’ she mused. ’These people haven’t even had one full al, yet they’re already relaxing, laughing and chattering away as if nothing has changed from before the apocalypse. They have no idea they’ve already fallen into the clutches of demons.’
’Sigh. A bunch of innocent lambs, oblivious to the wickedness of the world. Their ti for tears will co soon enough.’
Just as she was thinking this, the door swung open. Sure enough, it was Blondie and the muscular man. Following behind them was a woman.
The woman had a curvaceous figure, ample in all the right places. She wore a miniskirt and a crop top, her impressive bust squeezed into the tiny garnt. It looked as if one sharp movent would cause her to spill out of it completely.
Moreover, if one looked closely, the woman didn’t dare take large strides. Her gait was strangely furtive, as if she were trying to hide sothing.
Her revealing attire, combined with her decent looks, drew the gazes of every man in the room, Neal Wallace included. Their eyes were fixed on her, like searchlights they couldn’t turn away.
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