"Damn it, he’s doing this on purpose!" Bill snarled, his voice rising. "Let’s do this—smash the door! Once we’re inside, everything in there is ours!"
His words electrified the crowd.
Gripping whatever makeshift weapons they had, they struck harder, faster.
Bang—bang—bang!
The blows echoed through the stairwell.
Inside, Richard watched calmly.
When the timing felt right, he pressed a red button.
With a soft chanical click, a narrow slit opened above the door.
A faint stream of red smoke began to seep out.
At first, no one noticed.
Then, soone sniffed.
"What... what’s that sll?—Ah-choo!"
A sudden sneeze.
Then another.
And another.
Soon, people were sneezing uncontrollably—four, five tis in a row, their noses itching, burning, impossible to resist.
"What the hell—ah-choo!—ah-choo! Damn it—ah-choo!!"
One after another, they doubled over, eyes watering, noses running, their bodies wracked with relentless sneezing.
Any thought of breaking down the door vanished.
The once-aggressive crowd dissolved into chaos—half-blinded, gasping, sneezing uncontrollably.
Even those further down caught the drifting red powder, joining in the miserable chorus.
A few, standing farther back, noticed the strange particles in the air and hurriedly retreated, managing to avoid the worst of it.
Inside, Richard burst out laughing.
"Not bad... this stuff really works."
Against a crowd like this, it was more than enough.
They wouldn’t recover for hours—maybe longer.
And without strength, how could they keep attacking?
One by one, people began to retreat, humiliated and coughing.
The first assault was a complete failure.
Richard glanced at the now-empty stairwell and smiled in satisfaction.
If they wanted to co again, he wouldn’t mind.
He had more than enough "toys" waiting.
As long as he stayed inside his safehouse—he was untouchable.
—
Setting down his tablet, Richard picked up his phone.
Hannah had ssaged him earlier—she must have heard the commotion too.
[Are you okay? They’ve already gone up—you need to be careful.]
[Richard, are you alright?]
Without hesitation, he tapped the video call button.
It rang.
Five seconds later, she answered.
Her face appeared on screen.
Hollow cheeks. Pale lips. A gaunt, exhausted look.
She hadn’t been living well.
Once, that sight would have torn at his heart.
Now... It only pleased him.
The once untouchable Hannah... reduced to this—and still forcing a gentle, ingratiating smile for him.
How satisfying.
"Richard... are you okay?" she asked, concern painted across her face.
"I’m fine. They’ve already left," he said lightly, rising and walking toward the fridge.
Through the cara, Hannah caught a glimpse of his surroundings—clean, bright, untouched by hardship.
For a split second, her expression twisted.
But she forced it back into softness.
"You... look a bit worn out lately," Richard said casually. "Not eating enough?"
Hannah’s gaze flickered.
She placed a hand over her stomach, her voice weak. "Yeah... we’ve run out of food. I’ve been starving every day. Do I... look worse now?"
Her pale fingers brushed her cheek, her eyes filled with feigned fragility.
She ant to evoke sympathy.
To make him soften.
Maybe even let her move in.
Instead, Richard’s reply hit like a blade.
"Yeah," he said bluntly. "You look a lot worse. I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve gotten so thin it’s... kind of alarming."
Her smile froze.
The humiliation hit instantly.
She had tried to appear pitiful and ended up being mocked.
For a mont, she nearly lost control.
Richard.
That idiot.
That forr lapdog... How dare he?!
She forced herself to steady her expression, swallowing the surge of rage.
Across the screen, Richard watched every flicker of emotion with quiet amusent.
This was exactly what he wanted.
If she could watch all this and feel nothing, then he would be the one dissatisfied.
But the more she burned with envy, the more it soothed him.
"I’m hungry after all that," he said casually, stepping up to the fridge.
He turned the cara toward it—
Click.
The door swung open.
"I’ll just throw sothing together."
The lens captured everything.
A double-door fridge packed to the brim.
Fresh vegetables. Bright fruits. Premium cuts of at. Even a delicate little box of cream desserts.
Under the soft interior light, everything glead—rich, abundant, irresistible.
Hannah’s eyes locked onto the screen.
Her throat tightened as she swallowed.
Her own fridge had long since beco a hollow shell—powerless, empty, useless.
Not even a wilted leaf remained.
And here... He had all of this.
What kind of life was he living?
Were they even in the sa world anymore?
The door closed.
Only then did she snap back to herself.
"R-Richard... you still have so much food at ho..." Her voice carried a trace of bitterness she couldn’t hide.
"Is that a lot?" he said lightly. "You get used to it."
He set the phone down on the counter, the cara still capturing his movents.
"I’ll just make a couple of simple dishes."
Water ran from the tap—clear, steady.
Hannah’s eyes widened.
Water.
He could still use water so freely!
In a world where water had beco precious beyond asure.
Jealousy surged through her like fire. She wanted to hang up.
But she couldn’t.
Sowhere deep down, she still clung to hope.
He had once adored her.
Maybe... this was all just to provoke her.
Maybe there was still a chance.
The oil hit the pan with a sharp hiss.
The steak followed, releasing a rich, savory aroma that seed to seep through the screen.
Hannah swallowed hard.
"Richard... you’re such a good cook. Are you making a boneless steak?" she asked, licking her dry lips.
"Yeah."
"I rember... you made that for before. It tasted really good. I wonder if I could still—"
"You didn’t like it," Richard cut in. "I rember you threw it away."
Her expression stiffened. "I... I just—"
"Let’s not talk about the past." He lifted a finished piece toward the cara.
Glossy. Tender. Coated in thick, rich sauce.
Mouthwatering.
Especially to soone starving.
Her stomach clenched painfully.
She wanted it. So badly.
Richard took a bite, then nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad this ti."
He picked up his phone again.
"That’s enough chatting. I’m going to eat. You should get sothing too, Hannah. Take care of yourself."
The call ended.
And in that instant—
Whatever restraint Hannah had left... snapped.
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