James Lon unabashedly looked Lydia Johnson up and down. She was shy but not particularly angry because, well, James was quite handsome. Suddenly, recognition sparked in Lydia's eyes. "Sir, you're the convenience store clerk, aren't you?"

With a cheeky grin, James nodded. "That's me."

Fatty's convenience store was right at the entrance of the community, so many people knew him.

Lydia lowered her voice, "Are you the one called 'Collector of Beautiful Slave Girls'?"

Sizing her up like she was a delicacy, James replied, "Smart girl."

When the internet was still up, news broke out that alongside appearances, whispers spread about the convenience store clerk who "collects beautiful slave girls." Many in the community chat groups knew about this.

Lydia remembered the rumor, where food was exchanged for women, and felt a little fearful. Clutching her bag tighter to her chest, she thought of going back home but hesitated, thinking about her situation. Bravely, she asked, "Sir, do you have any food? Could I trade something for a bit?"

James grinned, "Oh? What do you have to trade?"

Glancing around nervously, Lydia whispered, "A black Nephelium. I saw that you were buying them in the group chat. I saw one, but I'm not sure if it's the kind you mentioned."

Black Nephelium? James immediately snapped to attention, peering intensely at Lydia. She emanated a yellow glow, indicating no malicious intent—unlikely she was lying.

"Where is it?"

Lydia pushed further, "I want instant noodles, sausages, and chocolate."

The mention of an Enlightenment Fruit steadied James instantly. "Fair enough. I'll give you three packs of noodles, three sausages, and three chocolates."

Lydia hesitated before standing firm, "I also need fever and anti-inflammatory medicine. My brother is sick."

James scoffed, "Lydia Johnson, don't push your luck."

To James, whatever she requested didn't matter. The priority was securing the Enlightenment Fruit. She wouldn't escape, anyway.

Though fearful, thinking of her fever-ridden brother, Lydia mustered courage, "I can do without the food, but I need the medicine."

Although her brother hadn't treated her well, he was still family. Without a man, survival seemed impossible in these times.

Feigning contemplation, James surreptitiously scanned Lydia's home. Inside were five people—a grandmother watching over a sickly glowing man, presumably her brother, and another family of three, likely forcibly "settled" survivors.

"You seem urgent; someone must be really sick at home," James commented, watching Lydia's face dim, a tacit admission.

Wait a minute... Lydia suddenly put two and two together, "How do you know my name?"

Ignoring her question, James stated, "I'll need to see the black Nephelium first before handing over anything."

Fearfully, Lydia replied, "It's within the community, on the ground outside. I'm afraid to go out. Can I tell you where it is, and you can fetch it?"

Outside? James declined, "No. You're coming with me!"

In this unpredictable world, people's hearts were fickle. He couldn't risk her setting a trap. Accompanying Lydia ensured control, turning her into a potential hostage if danger arose.

Lydia bit her lip, nervously agreeing, "Alright, but I'm only showing you from afar. We're not getting close."

Frowning at the implied danger, James asked, "Where exactly?"

Shaking her head with firm resolve, Lydia insisted, "You give me the items first, then I'll tell you."

James chuckled. Once she had them, what could she do if he took them back?

"Deal."

Nervously, Lydia led him onward, "I'll take you to see it. You must give me the items—no backing out, or I'll... I'll... just, you have to!"

Despite wracking her brain, Lydia found no way to threaten James, clumsily stopping short.

James nearly laughed. This woman wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Let's go downstairs," he directed, indifferent to her antics.

Lydia led the way, James following closely. Watching her sway lightly as she moved, James enjoyed the view.

Sensing his gaze, Lydia blushed, quickening her pace to distance herself. Her face was flushed, and she felt the urge to move further away.

Unperturbed, James regained focus, activating his perception, vigilant of potential threats.

They reached the 21st floor, where purple mist swirled in the stairwell. Lydia hesitated, edging closer to James for security.

James teased, "So close again? Not scared I'll eat you up?"

Flustered, Lydia deflected, "W-What are you talking about?"

Recalling James's reputation in the group, she regretted descending with him.

WHAM! James stomped hard on the ground, startling Lydia.

"What happened!" she gasped, wide-eyed at James.

Calmly raising his foot, James replied, "Just a bug."

The ground bore the squashed remains of a palm-sized roach. Fear gripped Lydia, compounding her urgency.

In the lobby, the herbicide's effects waned, foliage reclaiming dominance—vines snaked across paths, grass reached hip height. Checking her pant cuffs, ensuring protection, Lydia gingerly ventured out.

With heightened perception, James kept a wary eye on the mutated frog, ready to phase if needed. Within its attack zone, he was prepared to burrow underground to safety at the first sign of danger.

As for Lydia...she'd be at the mercy of luck.

Lydia trudged cautiously, insects buzzing about. James observed newcomers within the community—peculiar purple mushrooms with caps the size of parasols and towering three meters high. Giant fireflies hovered around them, imbuing an ethereal aura.

Frowning, James skirted the fungi, apprehensive of unfamiliar flora. Especially mushrooms, potentially toxic—he had no desire to "own a plot six feet under."

Oblivious, Lydia climbed a half-meter tall mushroom, pointing toward the pool. "Over there, beside a public bench. I saw it after herbicide spraying. But there was a huge frog in the pool; I didn't dare approach."

Turns out Lydia wasn't entirely foolish. She'd kept its existence to herself. Intent on trading with the "Collector of Beautiful Slave Girls" when planned, power outages and internet cuts delayed her.

By the mutated frog? James started to believe her. Any other location might've been looted by other survivors. But near the frog? Nobody dared go close—except maybe into its belly.

Examining the pool, James noticed the black Nephelium under a bench. About the size of a ping-pong ball, it was obscure amid the overgrowth, initially overlooked. Short bench, dense foliage—the massive frog, ironically oblivious.

Possibly a case of poor static vision, James pondered. Could exploiting such weaknesses defeat it, eventually?

Handing Lydia two boxes of antibiotics and some snacks, he said, "Alright, head back."

Surprised, Lydia faced him, "But you haven't seen the black Nephelium yet. Aren't you worried I might deceive you?"

Smiling charmingly, James seriously replied, "I trust you!"

Inexplicably touched, Lydia felt the sincerity. Neither her mother nor brother had trusted her, always suspecting theft...

Watching James's handsome face, Lydia's heart fluttered. "I'll be going. Rest assured—I'll keep the black Nephelium a secret!"

She fled, leaving James behind.

Eyeing her retreating figure, James noticed a subtle green glow shimmer on her. Easy to sway, this woman was...

With Lydia gone, James refocused, dismissively forgetting about her. Sinking into the earth, he hastened toward the black fruit.

In the apocalypse, strength far outweighed the allure of any woman!