Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 118: – Delivery Confirmed

Chapter 118: – Delivery Confirmed

The hummer rolled to a smooth, mechanical stop at the bottom of the slope—its engine cutting off with a purr that felt out of place in the war-wreck silence of the old city ruins.

Above them, crumbling signage blinked in glitchy loops—remnants of what used to be a café, or a pharmacy. The kind of place where people once wasted time.

Now it was just camouflage.

Cassi leaned over the wheel, chewing a piece of gum that had lost flavor two hours ago. She tapped twice on the dash, then turned in her seat without looking back.

"Alright. We’re here. Your palace awaits."

Lucas didn’t move immediately.

He sat in the back seat, arms relaxed across his lap, eyes half-lidded like he was still calculating the next three moves past this one. His coat was dusted from the road. His boots were scuffed. But his system lines—those faint golden sync marks crawling just beneath the skin—still pulsed with quiet, unreadable confidence.

Ava sat beside him, her bracer now low-powered and dormant. She’d dozed lightly for most of the last leg, only half-listening to Cassi’s radio static and offhand threats to shoot the next idiot who tailgated them through Sector R-3.

Lucas finally blinked.

Stretched once.

Then reached into his jacket and pulled out a matte black card the size of a memory wafer.

Cassi took it with two fingers, inspecting the sheen like she might bite it.

"Encrypted?"

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Would I pay you in anything else?"

Cassi smirked. "Fair."

She slid the card into her coat.

"You always were the best kind of customer," she added. "Quiet, rich, occasionally homicidal."

Lucas smirked faintly. "Consider it my version of gratitude."

"And this your tip?" Cassi asked.

Lucas reached again—this time pulling a second chip from his inner pocket. It flickered faint red.

Cassi’s eyes lit up.

"No shit. Legacy credits?"

"Transferable. Untraceable."

Cassi whistled low and pocketed the chip.

Lucas’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "I’ve can believe I paid to get here."

"Right. Daddy issues and dormant war machines. Enjoy your inheritance."

Cassi glanced at Ava, who was just now waking up, brushing hair from her face.

"You got the better deal," she muttered. "You get to chill in the manor while he wrestles his childhood demons."

Ava blinked blearily. "Cool."

Then she glanced at Lucas. "Wait. We’re here?"

Lucas opened the door. "Time to see what’s left of my father’s kingdom."

Cassi leaned across the seat, her tone casual but edged. "You call when you need a ride out."

Lucas paused in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

"I always call," he said.

"Yeah," Cassi muttered, popping a stick of new gum. "But not always from places you survive."

He didn’t answer that.

Ava slid out and trailed behind Lucas, a half-step off his right shoulder. Not deferential—just observant. Always observing.

She caught the shift in his posture as they passed the collapsed outer stairwell and approached the narrow concrete seam hidden in the base of the leftmost shopping complex. It wasn’t much to look at—just a cracked wall with a power-warped panel and a low hum that didn’t match any street-level systems.

Lucas pressed his palm to the wall.

There was no flash. No fanfare.

Just a whisper of pressure releasing.

And the ground opened up.

Not dramatically—just a clean split, a ramp sliding down beneath old stone, leading into a hallway that didn’t belong to this century.

They walked into it together.

The tunnel was cooler. Lights bloomed from hidden strips, casting everything in soft whites and golds. The floor was polished composite, seamless. Sensors tracked their movement in real-time, each one pinging quietly behind Ava’s bracer.

[LOCAL NODE CHAIN ACTIVE – OWNER ID CONFIRMED]

[PRIMARY ACCESS GRANTED: SYSTEM HOLDER AVA ZHANG]

Lucas’s gait didn’t falter.

Ava, though, raised an eyebrow. "You sync’d me into your house."

He didn’t look back. "You already synced to me."

"You say that like it’s normal."

"It is. For me."

She muttered something under her breath that might’ve included the word arrogant.

At the end of the tunnel, the light changed—opened into a vast central hall lined with towering steel arches and walls made of stone and polished black glass.

Bai Manor.

But not as a home. As a machine.

Every inch of it was coded, layered, maintained. A control hub disguised as elegance.

And waiting at the top of the stairs?

The staff.

They didn’t line up like soldiers.

They didn’t bow.

They stood with presence.

The man at the center wore crisp black, white gloves, and a pocket square like war medals. His face was smooth, expression carved from politeness.

"Welcome home, Master Lucas."

Lucas paused at the base of the stairs.

His shoulders squared.

"Ren," he said quietly.

The man nodded once. "It’s been a long time."

"Fifteen years," Lucas replied. "Roughly."

"You look older."

Lucas smiled. "You don’t."

Ava watched the exchange in silence, eyes flicking between the two men.

Ren Zhou—head butler, system operator, the one who kept the manor alive when the family splintered.

Beside him stood a woman in her fifties, hair tied back, apron spotless, a spoon still in her hand like she might return to baking at any moment.

Yuan Zhou, the cook.

The third stood apart—bigger frame, half-sleeve jacket, synthetic joint visible along one forearm. Face older, lined by decades of service and old-world war.

Uncle Ji.

Ava knew the names before they were introduced.

But knowing wasn’t the same as meeting.

Lucas stepped aside, motioning with a slight flick of his fingers.

"This is Ava Zhang," he said. "System Holder. Tactical partner."

A pause.

Not cold.

Just... calculation.

Ren tilted his head. "The manor recognizes her."

Yuan stepped forward, eyes flicking over Ava like she could tell her whole life from the way she stood.

"Too thin," she muttered. "Sharp in the eyes though. That’s good."

Ji just gave a grunt. The kind that could mean welcome or prove it.

Ava nodded once. No smile. No attempt to win them over.

"I’m not here to redecorate," she said. "Just keep the place standing."

Ren arched a brow. "A practical answer."

Lucas folded his arms, watching quietly.

"She’ll be using the Command Tier, East Wing," he said. "Full node access. No restrictions."

Ren didn’t flinch. "Understood."

Ava turned toward Lucas. "You’re really just dropping me into the middle of your legacy like I’m supposed to know where the light switches are."

He smirked. "You’re clever. And synced. You’ll adapt."

"You’re annoying."

"And yet," he said smoothly, "you’re still here."

William entered from the side hallway then, nodding once toward his father.

"Security checks complete," he said. "South corridor still clean. Drones on standby."

Lucas nodded once. Then turned toward the staff without missing a beat.

"Lunch?" he said, like the word had just occurred to him after ten years. "Something real. Hot. With flavor. I’m overdue for a home-cooked meal that wasn’t ration-sealed or black-market dehydrated."

Ren blinked. "I’ll inform the kitchen."

Yuan, who had just stepped back into the hallway, snorted. "Look who remembers what food tastes like."

Lucas turned toward her, hand to his chest. "I never forgot. I just lost the will to believe it still existed."

"I’m not making that weird honey chicken you liked as a kid," Yuan muttered, already walking toward the kitchen. "Takes too long. You’ll get what’s ready."

Lucas grinned and let her go without complaint.

Behind him, Ava leaned against the column, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "You’re in a good mood."

"I’m always in a good mood when there’s food involved."

She tilted her head. "No, this is different. You’re being nice. Relaxed. Charming. Which means you’re about to do something incredibly stupid."

Lucas glanced at her over his shoulder, still grinning. "That predictable?"

"Painfully," she said.

William, still standing behind them, didn’t say a word. But the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his agreement.

Ava pushed off the wall and walked closer, her eyes narrowing. "Let me guess. You’re going to take William, sneak out through one of the old drone vents, visit a restricted zone, and conveniently forget to tell me until after."

Lucas raised a hand. "Incorrect."

She waited.

He dropped the hand. "I was going to tell you during dessert."

Ava groaned, pressing her fingers to her temple. "You’re exhausting."

"But charming."

"That’s what worries me."

Lucas stepped forward and tapped her bracer lightly. "Eat first. Yell later."

Ava didn’t move. "Are you seriously going back out into the field?"

He gave her a small smile—just enough teeth to qualify as rakish.

"You know me," he said. "I delegate everything except the parts I shouldn’t."

She exhaled slowly. "Fine. But next time you want to disappear into a potential death trap, maybe don’t ask for a hot lunch first. It’s suspicious."

Lucas leaned in just slightly, voice lowering with mock solemnity. "You’re right. I should’ve asked for a back massage and a final will update."

Ava didn’t step back.

She just looked him dead in the eyes. "If you die before I finish syncing the manor systems, I’m feeding your corpse to the ventilation filters."

Lucas smiled wide. "That’s the flirtiest threat you’ve ever made."

She didn’t deny it.

But when she turned, her eyes lingered on him just a little too long.

She’d seen that kind of charm before.

And it always came before something broke.

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