Apocalypse: Building And Hoarding My Way Through.
Chapter 175: I’m Back On Earth.

Chapter 175: I’m Back On Earth.

A young man with dark, messy curls tossed and turned in bed as the morning sun spilled through the curtains, casting a golden glow over his fair face. The warmth stirred him from his sleep, his eyelids fluttering open as he groaned loudly, stretching his limbs with visible reluctance.

As his vision adjusted, he took in his surroundings, a grand bedroom decorated in a sophisticated black-and-white color scheme. The furniture was exquisite, exuding wealth and elegance, yet it all felt unfamiliar, almost foreign, as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Then, without warning, a torrent of memories came crashing down on him like a violent storm. A searing pain shot through his skull, forcing him to clutch his head as an agonized scream tore from his throat. The images flashed before his mind’s eye, chaos, destruction, blood-soaked streets, lifeless bodies, and the eerie silence that followed the apocalypse.

The door to his room suddenly burst open, and a group of young women dressed in crisp white gowns with matching aprons rushed in, their expressions filled with worry.

"Master! What’s wrong?" one of them cried out, stepping closer.

"Someone fetch the doctor, quickly!" another urged, her voice laced with panic.

"Please, talk to us, Master!"

The room filled with anxious voices, overlapping in concern, but Garvin barely heard them. The memories refused to stop, wrapping around him like a suffocating noose. He gasped for air, his breaths ragged and desperate, until finally, the relentless flood ceased.

His body trembled as he lifted his gaze, scanning the frightened faces before him.

"Scarlett..." he rasped, his voice hoarse, yet filled with unspoken emotions.

Ignoring the maids, he swung his legs off the bed and walked toward the large window. His fingers clenched into fists as he stared down at the city below.

The streets bustled with people, cars honked incessantly, and the world moved as if nothing had ever happened. The normalcy of it all made his stomach churn. This wasn’t right.

"Master, should we call the doctor?" one of the maids hesitantly stepped forward, concern still evident on her face.

Garvin didn’t respond immediately. His thoughts raced.

"I’m... back on Earth?" he murmured under his breath. His fingers tightened around the windowsill.

If he had truly returned to Earth, why did everything seem untouched by the apocalypse? Why did these people act like nothing had ever happened? Were they all oblivious, unaware of the catastrophe they had survived? Or was he the only one who had retained the memories of that horrific reality?

His heart pounded. If the apocalypse had affected everyone, the city wouldn’t be functioning so smoothly. There would be mourning, fear, survivors struggling to process what they had been through. But there was none of that. The world outside his window was calm, serene, even blissfully ignorant.

Garvin let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his already disheveled curls.

"Forget it!" he suddenly yelled, making the maids flinch in shock.

Without wasting another second, he strode toward his wardrobe, yanked it open, and hastily pulled out a crisp white shirt and matching trousers. He threw them on with hurried movements before storming out of the room.

"Young Master!" the maids called after him, but he ignored them.

His mind was set on one thing. Scarlett.

Garvin descended the grand staircase, grabbing his car keys before rushing out of the house. Within moments, he slid into the driver’s seat and sped out of the compound, his grip tightening on the wheel.

Going to her house was out of the question, her husband had already warned him to stay away. He had no interest in causing a confrontation, not when everything felt so unsettling. Instead, he headed straight for the company. If she had woken up with her memories intact, she would undoubtedly come looking for him.

The moment he arrived, the familiar sight of his company greeted him. The building stood tall, and just like the city, it was buzzing with life. Employees moved about, busy with their tasks.

But something was wrong.

Despite the routine atmosphere, the moment he stepped inside, heads turned, and whispers spread like wildfire. Workers bowed slightly in greeting, but he barely acknowledged them, his mind fixated on one thing.

Scarlett’s desk.

His footsteps were hurried as he approached it. But when he arrived, his heart clenched.

The seat was empty.

His brows furrowed in frustration. Running a hand through his hair, he turned sharply, his voice edged with impatience.

"Where is Mrs. Jerkins?"

The room fell into an eerie silence. The workers exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from shock to sadness. Slowly, one by one, they bowed their heads.

Garvin’s stomach twisted.

"What’s wrong?" he demanded, his voice rising slightly.

Why were they acting this way? Scarlett should be here. She should be searching for him, just as he had searched for her. Could she have gone to his house instead? Had they missed each other?

His mind spun with possibilities until, finally, a soft, sorrowful voice broke the silence.

"Boss... Did you forget?" a female employee stepped forward hesitantly. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Mrs. Jerkins is dead."

Garvin froze.

"Dead?" His voice came out barely above a whisper.

The woman swallowed hard, nodding. "She... passed away weeks ago. We know it’s hard for you. We all miss her."

His breath caught in his throat. The realization hit him like a brick wall.

"No... That’s not possible." He took a shaky step back. "I..."

Another worker, his head bowed in sorrow, hesitantly spoke up. "Her husband, mother-in-law, and sister-in-law also died... in a plane crash. They were on their way out of the country. They couldn’t bear to stay here after her death, so they left... only to meet their end."

Garvin’s stomach twisted.

The worker continued, his voice heavy with grief. "Almost everyone in Mrs. Jerkins’ life is gone. Some of our own colleagues also passed away around the same time. Of course, we can’t say they all died because of her... but it felt like a curse. Losing her was a huge blow to everyone who knew her."

Garvin’s breath hitched. His hands clenched into fists as his mind spun.

"What the heck?!" He let out a scoff, his eyebrows furrowing. "Only I have the memories of the apocalypse? Everything else is the same but only I have the memories of the damn apocalypse. Like seriously?!

His pulse pounded in his ears. Scarlett’s husband and his family were dead. But wait, if they had died in the apocalypse, was that why they were also dead in this world? That’s just it.

"What the hell is going on though? I can’t be the only one who had the memories of the apocalypse" he muttered, confusion etched deep into his face.

Then, a realization struck him like lightning.

I saved Scarlett before I was transported into the apocalypse world afterall.

His breath caught.

Does that mean... she’s still in a coma? Yes she has to be.

Without wasting another second, Garvin spun on his heel and bolted out of the office. His employees called after him, but he didn’t stop. He dashed straight to his car, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the keys before speeding off.

The hospital.

The place where he had last left her.

She had to be there.

The city blurred past him as he raced through the streets, his thoughts tangled in frantic knots. But the moment he arrived at his destination, his blood ran cold.

The hospital...

Was gone.

In its place stood a bustling food canteen.

His entire body went rigid as shock slammed into him like a tidal wave. His breathing became uneven, and for a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the building as if it were an illusion. His mind refused to process what he was seeing.

What the hell is this?

This is where the hospital was. I know it.

His fingers curled into his palms as he stumbled back a step. His chest tightened with a suffocating sense of dread.

Am I mistaken? No, that’s impossible. I know this is the right place!

With a sense of growing desperation, he quickly approached a woman stepping out of the canteen, her purse slung over her shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma’am!" He greeted, barely managing to keep his voice steady. "I’m sorry to bother you, but... was there a hospital here before? Did it get demolished or relocated?"

The woman blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. "Hospital?" She let out a light chuckle, confusion flickering across her face. "There’s never been a hospital here. This place has always been a food canteen."

Garvin’s breath hitched. His hands felt clammy.

"No... that’s not right. There was a hospital here," he insisted, shaking his head. "I brought someone here. I left her in that hospital, and now I come back, and it’s just... gone? Did the government tear it down or something?"

The woman let out another small laugh, though this time, there was a flicker of concern in her expression. "I’ve lived in this neighborhood my whole life, sir. There’s never been a hospital here. Maybe you’re mistaken? Are you new around here?"

Garvin’s jaw clenched. "No," he snapped. "I know what I’m saying!..."

His voice wavered as panic clawed at his chest. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a war drum.

The woman took a cautious step back, her smile faltering. "I think you should calm down."

But Garvin wasn’t listening. His pulse roared in his ears.

No... No, this can’t be happening.

His hands clenched into his hair as his breathing grew ragged. He felt like he was going insane.

Why was he the only one who remembered? Why had the apocalypse world disappeared from everyone else’s memory? And Scarlett...

Did she really die?

His vision blurred as his knees buckled, and before he could stop himself, he fell to the pavement.

A sharp gust of wind blew past him, ruffling his curls.

Then...

A voice.

Soft. Familiar. Haunting.

Scarlett’s voice.

Her words echoed in his mind, and his breath hitched as his eyes widened in shock.

Did she...?