After being torn apart by a mutated cat, I jolted awake, consciousness flooding back in fragments.

I stared at my body—completely uninjured—and the realization hit me: I had been reborn.

In my previous life, an unknown planet had released massive quantities of some unidentified element, causing animals on Earth to grow at rates thousands—even tens of thousands—of times faster than normal.

Mutated rats. Mutated cats. Beetles the size of tanks. They overran the entire world in days.

Against those enormous beasts, humans were nothing. Fragile. Helpless.

In just seventy-two hours, Earth was devastated.

I thought of a giant snake, hundreds of meters long, its tail sweeping through a skyscraper like it was made of cardboard. A shiver ran down my spine.

I grabbed my phone and checked the calendar. One month. I had one month before that planet released the elements.

Then I remembered—today was the day the factory was supposed to buy materials. I bolted out of my room.

"Dad, cancel the raw materials order. Take the whole two million and spend it on explosives!"

——

My father froze mid-step, jaw hanging open. It took him a solid ten seconds to recover.

"Are you sleepwalking? What the hell are you talking about?" Nathan Larson shook his head in disbelief. "Son, we run a small fireworks workshop. Two million in explosives—you trying to level this entire mountain range?"

He waved at Linda James to continue the wire transfer. Panic surged through me. I lunged forward and yanked the power cord from the wall. The computer screen went black.

So did my father's expression.

"Alex! Are you done causing problems?" His voice rose sharply. "Today is the deadline for payment. Chinese New Year is coming—if we can't produce the firecrackers, what's the whole staff supposed to do? Starve?"

"Dad, you won't make it to New Year's—"

He didn't let me finish. His palm cracked against the back of my head, eyes blazing red with fury.

"You little bastard! Who are you cursing to die? I'll kill you myself first!"

I ducked and scrambled backward, hands raised in surrender. "Dad—stop—I didn't mean it like that! Just let me explain! One month from now, every animal on the planet will mutate into monsters. None of us are making it to New Year's!"

I told him everything. Every detail from my previous life. The mutations. The death. The collapse of civilization.

He listened in stunned silence.

Then he reached over and knocked on my skull like he was checking if anything was home.

"Have you fried your brain playing video games? Centipedes dozens of meters long? Mosquitoes the size of helicopters?" He snorted. "I think your brain is what mutated. Now get out of my way—I have money to make."

He moved toward the outlet to plug the computer back in. I grabbed his arm.

"Dad, everything I'm saying is true. I lived through it. I died—torn apart by a cat the size of a tiger. I've been given a second chance, and I can't let it happen again. Please. Believe me."

"Believe you? Were you reborn or did you visit the afterlife? Did you see your great-grandma while you were at it?" He yanked his arm free. "Why don't you tell me you ascended to immortality? Bless us! Make us rich overnight!"

Linda rolled her eyes from her desk. "Alex, I'm not trying to lecture you, but all you do is eat and play games like some trust-fund kid. There are dozens of workers here counting on their year-end bonuses. Can you please stop making trouble?"

Lisa Lawrence, the office clerk—fresh out of college, more open-minded—glanced around the room as if searching for something.

"Alex, is this one of those prank challenge videos? You're messing with us for content, right?" She gave me a skeptical look. "But seriously, what you're describing is way too out there."

Before I could respond, the door swung open.

Raymond Larson walked in—my uncle, who had spent his entire life competing with my father over everything. Linda, still treating my outburst as entertainment, repeated what I'd said.

Raymond's face lit up with smug satisfaction, that familiar look of told you so plastered across his features. He looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"This kid's been a mess since he was little. Doesn't understand a thing about the real world." He puffed out his chest. "Not like my son—excellent since childhood, and now he's a company executive. Makes tens of thousands a year!"

I bit my tongue.

What kind of executive only makes tens of thousands? Even our factory workers earned more than that.

Seeing that I didn't respond, Uncle Raymond's confidence surged. He looked at me like he was granting me one last chance. "You say you were reborn—where's your proof?"

Proof?

I frowned, then my mind lit up.

"I remember now. On this day in my past life, Derek got fired for a work mistake."

Uncle Raymond was about to explode when Derek's call came through.

"Dad, some items went missing from the warehouse I manage. I got fired..."

A knowing smile spread across my face. "So Derek isn't an executive—he's a warehouse clerk!"

Uncle Raymond's face turned green. "You just got lucky," he spat. "Like a blind squirrel finding a nut. Doesn't count!"

I thought for a moment, then turned to Linda. "Linda, your husband has a mistress. He's transferring assets as we speak. Check your balance if you don't believe me."

In my past life, her husband had demanded a divorce a week from now. Linda hadn't gotten a single dollar.

She fumbled for her phone. Sure enough—the balance was half what it should be.

She called her husband directly. The mistress answered, smugly telling Linda to hurry up and sign the divorce papers so she could move in. Linda went pale.

I'd nailed two predictions in a row. Surely they'd believe me now—but my dad still refused and insisted on making the transfer.

The door burst open again.

"I can prove my brother's telling the truth."

Every head snapped toward the doorway. My younger brother, Ethan Larson, rushed in, panting hard.

"Dad, everything he said is true. In a month, animals worldwide will mutate. Listen to him—buy explosives!"

The office went silent for a few seconds, then cold snorts rippled through the room.

"Both brothers are insane. Poor Mr. Larson—can't even make enough money to treat his two sons."

"Mr. Larson, want me to call a psychiatric hospital?"

Uncle Raymond burst out laughing. "Big brother, you always said the main account was a bust, so you trained the backup. Turns out the backup's no better! And he even graduated from grad school—just as useless as your eldest!"

Dad's face darkened like a storm cloud. He grabbed both of us and dragged us to his office.

After the door closed, I braced for an explosion—but instead, Dad's expression turned anxious.

"Ethan, tell me quickly—what's going on?"

My brother and I exchanged a glance, and he gave Dad the short version.

Dad's voice trembled. "So... you were reborn too?"

Ethan nodded. "I got scared to death by a caterpillar. A three-foot-long one."

I gave him a mocking thumbs-up. "You really are my brother."

He flushed with embarrassment. "Bro, just buying explosives won't cut it. Those animals are way too strong. We need a place to hide." He pulled out some papers. "I drew up blueprints before coming back—we can remodel our warehouse."

Ethan had studied architectural design. He'd designed our family's newly built warehouse himself.

Unlike other small workshops, our warehouse sat on a reinforced concrete foundation, with solid brick walls—the kind even a ton of explosives couldn't breach.

His plan was to weld a ring of steel around the exterior, with the sharpened edges pointing outward and upward. The whole thing would look like a giant hedgehog. That way, it could fend off attacks from mutated animals.

Cost for this phase: one million dollars.

In my past life, the mutation had lasted two weeks before militaries worldwide slowly regained control.

But in a backwater like ours, rescue would take far longer than two weeks. We'd also need to stockpile enough food and daily necessities to survive.

I did a rough calculation—at least five million dollars, minimum.

My brother and I turned to Dad. He was silent for a long moment, then pulled out a card.

"Ten million. Two million for explosives. The rest is yours to figure out."

With cash in hand, we got to work. Ethan handled the warehouse remodel while I tackled supplies.

Two hundred bags each of rice and flour. Several thousand pounds of pork, beef, and lamb—no spoilage risk with temperatures in the negative twenties. Hundreds of cases of dried noodles and instant ramen.

When disaster hit, utilities would be the first to go. I bought over a dozen water storage tanks and ten thousand cases of bottled water. The warehouse filled up halfway.

Dad pulled some strings at an abandoned mine and scored two diesel generators, plus dozens of barrels of fuel. That should keep us running until the grid came back. Fifty propane tanks for cooking.

No heating in the warehouse, so I installed air conditioning units and moved in beds and quilts.

The death toll from my previous life haunted me. I couldn't just save myself and watch everyone else die.

The day the remodel finished, I set up a livestream outside the warehouse doors.

I laid it all out—the unknown planet, the element release, the global animal mutations. My handful of viewers exploded into thousands.

[What did I just hear? Unknown planet causing animal mutations? Streamer's really fishing for clicks here]

[Looking at that setup behind him... why do I kinda believe this guy? Maybe I should prep a little?]

[Whether it's real or not, streamer's got heart. Teaching people how to survive for free. I'm touched]

Then Uncle Raymond stepped into frame and tore the whole thing down.

"Don't listen to this nonsense. My nephew's been unreliable since he was a kid. That rice and flour? New Year bonuses for his family's workers. Mutant cats? Mutant dogs? Keep spreading rumors and I'll have you arrested!"

Before I could respond, a notification popped up—someone wanted to video chat.

I accepted. A timid voice came through: "Streamer, I live alone. I can't handle all this prep by myself. Can I come to your place?"

I froze.

She rushed to explain. "I'll pay. Fifty thousand for one spot."

The comments section went dead silent. Then erupted.

[Ohhhh so THAT'S the angle—he's selling spots? Does he think this is Noah's Ark?]

[That girl's obviously a plant. Fifty thousand? The audacity]

[Don't fall for this fear-mongering. Dude's read too many sci-fi novels. Don't get scammed!]

I opened my mouth to tell her not to pay—

Uncle Raymond snatched the phone right out of my hand.

"Alex, have you lost your mind? Taking money for this? The cops will haul you off for fraud. Stop embarrassing the Larson name!"

He hurled my phone at the ground and stomped on it twice. The screen went black.

My face darkened. My fists clenched until the knuckles cracked. Dad rushed over and caught my arm before I could swing.

He turned to Uncle Raymond, voice heavy. "Raymond. If you've got something to say, say it. Why smash the kid's phone? You breaking it means you're buying him a new one."

"Why should I?" Raymond's face twisted. "Nathan, this isn't right. My son needed eight hundred thousand for a house and you refused. But you hand these two eight million to play around with this junk? And you go along with their delusions? What, you think the family money is yours alone to spend? I put in ten thousand back in the day. Give me eight hundred thousand now—call it my share of the dividends."