"Rob?" Fatty Eric shivered and stammered timidly, "That's illegal!"

Useless! Monroe Anne grew even more disdainful of her fiancé.

Despite his towering figure, he was as timid as a little girl.

Monroe Anne snapped angrily, "Then what should we do? Just starve to death? Fine, I'll just go be with him then!"

"No!" Fatty Eric weakly protested, his heart aching terribly.

The thought of offering his beloved fiancée to someone else was unbearable.

But robbing someone? That terrified him too.

He had money, a beautiful wife-to-be—if he got caught robbing, the police would take it all away, leaving his wealth and Monroe Anne to others!

What a loser! Monroe Anne sneered inwardly.

She was a cunning woman.

In peaceful times, she had chosen Fatty Eric precisely because he was rich and easy to manipulate.

But now, times had changed!

She knew that in this apocalyptic world, sticking with such a cowardly man meant certain death.

As a beautiful woman, without a strong protector in chaotic times, her fate would be grim. Starvation would be the best outcome.

She shuddered at the thought of the punishments men inflicted on women in those apocalyptic movies. She pressed Fatty Eric further:

"Don't worry, I'll share half the food I trade myself for with you!"

She still loves me! Fatty Eric trembled all over.

"I didn't mean that! No, you can't do it, really!"

Monroe Anne glared at him and shouted, "This won't do, that won't do—what do you want to do, just wait for death?!"

Fatty Eric stammered, unable to respond. His mind was in turmoil.

One moment, he wanted to rush into James Lon's home and just take everything. But fear held him back.

Another moment, he thought, maybe letting Monroe be with James Lon wasn't the worst—at least she wouldn't starve, and he could share some food.

But the thought of this made him feel suffocated, a fire burning in his chest.

Finally, Monroe Anne coldly revealed her true intentions:

"I'm going to James Lon's place now."

Fatty Eric jerked his head up, his eyes bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead. He pleaded, "Monroe..."

Fearing he might lose control, Monroe Anne quickly patted his shoulder and reassured him:

"Relax! I won't let him touch me. You know I'm good at manipulating men..."

The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized her slip.

Fatty Eric froze, confused: "Baby, what do you mean? Are you saying you've been manipulating me too...?"

He immediately thought of himself. He'd never really "been" with Monroe Anne despite their engagement. A hint of resentment crept into his heart.

Monroe Anne panicked and quickly turned the tables. She slapped him hard across the face.

Slap!

The blow shattered Fatty Eric's anger instantly.

Clutching his cheek, he stammered, "Baby, why did you hit me?"

Monroe Anne pointed at him, her eyes red with fake tears as she scolded:

"Fatty, what the hell are you thinking?! I'm doing this for us!"

"You useless man! I'm sacrificing myself to get food for you, and you question my motives?! Fatty Eric, I regret getting engaged to you. Do you really think I'd see you as no different from James Lone?!"

Fatty Eric finally came to his senses.

Right, I'm not like James Lon!

I'm Monroe Anne's fiancé.

Monroe Anne always ignored James Lon; there's no way she'd fall for him!

"I'm sorry, Monroe!" Fatty Eric apologized frantically.

Monroe Anne wiped away her fake tears and sat at her vanity, coldly saying, "Don't worry, no matter what, I'll bring back food for you. I won't let you starve."

She's doing it for me! Fatty Eric felt as if his heart were being torn apart.

Watching his fiancée carefully apply makeup for another man, he was filled with self-loathing.

When Monroe Anne finished her makeup, the air of despair vanished from her face, replaced by her stunning beauty.

She donned black stockings, high heels, and picked up her handbag.

Fatty Eric's hands trembled: "You can't go! What if that bastard forces himself on you?"

Monroe Anne looked at him and, with a deliberately pitiful expression, said, "I brought condoms..."

Boom!

Fatty Eric's mind exploded. He completely lost it.

Red-eyed and enraged, he snarled, "Monroe, I'm going with you. We'll take everything he has!"

Monroe Anne was overjoyed. "Really?"

She had no desire to face James Lon alone. For her, it was easier to manipulate a cowardly man like Fatty Eric.

Fatty Eric had been under her control for so long that defiance wasn't an option.

Still trembling with a mix of rage and fear, he nodded: "Really! I'll take everything he's got! Baby, if I get caught, will you wait for me?"

Loser! Monroe Anne thought disdainfully but said sweetly, "Of course! I'll wait for you forever! Let's bring some cash. If you take his stuff and leave money behind, it won't count as robbery!"

Fatty Eric's eyes lit up: "Great idea!"

They discussed the details.

Monroe Anne then sent James Lon a voice message:

"This is Monroe Anne. I'll come over and spend the night with you, but you have to give me five boxes of instant noodles."

Hearing this, Fatty Eric's face twitched with anger: "Baby, why say that..."

Monroe Anne snapped, "Don't you know how to play along? Negotiating makes him let his guard down. It's all for us!"

Fatty Eric understood but still felt miserable.

James replied, "No way. One box at most. I only have three left."

Monroe Anne shot back, "I don't believe you. You wasted so much steak earlier!"

James replied, "Believe it or not."

Monroe Anne countered, "Then just an hour."

James insisted, "One night! Take it or leave it. I'm only offering this because it's you, Monroe. Any other girl wouldn't leave here alive."

Hearing this, Fatty Eric's eyelid twitched.

This is your idea of giving me face?!

This is you stomping on my pride!

Monroe Anne blushed slightly, feeling a bit awkward discussing such matters in front of her fiancé.

"Two hours," she bargained.

James remained firm: "A full night or nothing."

Monroe Anne decided to play along: "Fine, I'll come over. Get ready."

James chuckled, "Wear something nice—short skirt, black stockings, high heels..."

Monroe Anne blushed furiously and cut off the voice message.

Fatty Eric, livid, swung a kitchen knife in fury: "I'll kill that bastard!"

Despite his timid nature, Fatty Eric was tall, wealthy, and had always looked down on James Lon.

Now James dared to covet his fiancée?

Monroe Anne soothed him before they prepared to leave.

She slipped a pepper spray into her handbag, while Fatty Eric clutched his kitchen knife nervously.

They opened the door cautiously. Their apartment was on the 19th floor, already shrouded in a dense purple mist.

Inside, the air was faintly red.

Outside, the purple fog was thicker, swirling like a living entity, filling them with unease.

The hallway was eerily silent, with only the dim glow of the emergency exit sign a few meters away, flickering like a distant firefly.

Monroe Anne, for all her bravado, was scared, sticking close to Fatty Eric.

Fatty Eric, though terrified, forced himself to appear brave for his fiancée:

"Baby, stay close to me. Don't get lost."

"I will," Monroe Anne whispered, trembling.

Fatty Eric gripped the knife tightly and crept toward the stairs, with Monroe Anne close behind.

The dense fog limited their vision to just five or six meters. Beyond that, everything was a crimson blur.

The silence was broken only by their faint footsteps and the occasional distant, eerie animal howls.

Sweat poured down Monroe Anne's back as her heart raced. She began to regret leaving the safety of their apartment.

To bolster his courage, Fatty Eric muttered, "Baby, why don't we just take over James Lon's place? He's on the 33rd floor; no purple mist there."

Monroe Anne's eyes lit up: "Good idea! I didn't expect you to have brains."

Pleased with her praise, Fatty Eric grinned, "Of course! We'll kick him out. If he dies, no one can report the robbery."

Monroe Anne snapped, "Don't talk so loud! Do you want others to hear?"

"Okay, okay," Fatty Eric muttered, deflated.

Luckily, the two of them soon reached the 21st floor, emerging from the purple mist.

Monroe Anne and Fatty Eric both breathed a sigh of relief.

The staircase was still deserted. However, with their vision restored, their nerves began to settle.

Quietly, they made their way up to the 33rd floor.

Standing near the staircase, Monroe Anne whispered,

"I'll knock on the door. You wait here. As soon as the door opens, I'll block it with my foot. You rush in!"

At this critical moment, Fatty Eric was so nervous that his hands trembled uncontrollably, as if he had Parkinson's.

"O-okay," he stammered.

Monroe Anne shot him a look of disdain.

"Can you even do this?" she asked, clearly doubtful.

"I... I can!" Fatty Eric swallowed hard, forcing himself to reply.

Monroe Anne adjusted her collar and hair before elegantly walking to the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

"James Lone, it's Monroe Anne. Open the door."