Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

The night pressed on, filled with the quiet shuffle of customers, and the low, hushed whispers of black-market patrons seeking glimpses of their immediate futures.

​April executed each reading with her usual cold, flawless precision. With her newly upgraded Rank 3 Eye of Destiny, the micro-timelines of the desperate figures sitting across from her unfolded in terrifyingly vivid detail.

Yet, despite the crisp focus of her predictive vision, her mind remained somewhere else entirely.

​Twenty-two days.

​The crimson numbers burned against the back of her eyelids even after she forced the system interface to fade.

​Forty-two days had given them a comfortable margin—a calculated buffer to build, fortify, procure, and train without making reckless mistakes. Dropping twenty days out of nowhere completely shattered that safety net.

​Should I tell them immediately? April thought, her eyes tracking the flick of crystalline orb. Or should I wait, process it, and try to extract more details from the system first?

​The system’s total refusal to elaborate bothered her deeply. It hadn’t provided a single variable explaining why the timeline had accelerated, nor had it explained what the ”Apocalypse Trials” were. If she called Xavier, Nat, and the others in a panic right now without concrete data, it would disrupt their ongoing logistics.

She wondered if it was just a glitch from the system interface. A glitch was highly unlikely given the sort of advanced system and how it had given her such an urgent update.

​No. Spiraling in the dark was inefficient. She needed to organize her thoughts, lay out a revised, aggressive timetable, and present it to them with absolute clarity.

​By the time the fifth customer paid and shuffled off into the dimly lit alleyway, the crowd in front of her stall began to slowly disperse. She announced it was all for tonight so no customer came forth.

April slowly began clearing her table, storing the crystalline orb in her spatial dimension. Business ended early today because her reputation had spread and the customers were coming faster.

She wondered now was a good time to start spreading the coming of the impending apocalypse.

I think I should hold on a little bit to that information. What if she started feeding them their apocalypse timeline and the system decided to cut the days short again? She would be seen as a fraud.

Her reputation didn’t matter since after the apocalypse, the people would only think; had I known, but she didn’t want to have that hassle on her back.

Once again, it was about getting clear answers from the system.

​Just then, footsteps echoed softly against the damp cobblestones.

​Nat stepped out of the shadows, his tall, broad frame wrapped in a long trench coat, his eyes gleaming with their usual razor-sharp awareness behind his dark shades. He glanced at the empty table, a subtle smirk touching his lips.

​”All wrapped up for the night, little seer?” Nat asked, his deep voice carrying an easy, grounding warmth. ”That was quick.”

​April paused, adjusting her leather gloves before looking up at him. ”Well, it seems my reputation has grown quite a bit.”

​Nat leaned against the side wall of the alley, crossing his arms. ”That’s a good thing, right? Everything went smoothly?”

​”Smoothly enough,” April replied flatly, keeping her expression behind her mask perfectly stoic.

​Inside, however, her gears were turning at breakneck speed. Starting tomorrow morning, the entire game changes.

​With only twenty-one days left by sunrise, she couldn’t afford a single wasted hour. Her initial plan to finish the Hillside fortress’s atmospheric dome within two weeks was no longer just a defensive preference—it was a critical deadline.

If the construction lagged by even a few days, they would be caught completely exposed when the world fell apart. She would need Samuel to authorize double-shift site rotations, deploy extra heavy machinery, and throw endless money at the engineering firms to force a non-stop work pace.

​April looked at Nat, her tone dropping into a sharp, business-like register. ”Nat.”

​”Hmm?”

​”What about the invitations for the international culinary competition?” April asked, her dark brown eyes locking onto his. ”Have they gone out to the world’s top chefs? Have you coordinated with Xavier and Alexander?”

​Nat raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her sudden shift back to full-scale logistics out of nowhere, but he guessed she was always like that. Unpredictable. He answered without hesitation.

​”They went out yesterday afternoon,” Nat said, adjusting his coat. ”We sent out high-tier, exclusive invitations under the joint names of the Greels, Reed, and Collins families—inviting three-star Michelin chefs, legendary private cooks, and master culinary teams from all over the world. We pitched it as a grand, high-stakes competition with a massive cash prize.”

​He let out a dry, low chuckle, running a hand through his red hair. ”My boys reported that we’ve already gotten a massive wave of responses. When three of the most powerful names in the country host an exclusive cooking contest, every arrogant chef on the planet wants in. They should already be drafting their menu lists as we speak.”

​A subtle, calculating glint touched April’s eyes. She knew the power of their combined names and that was why she had them use their influence during the invitation process.

​Her plan was working perfectly.

​”Good,” April said cleanly as she finally began to take off her mask. ”We need those kitchens running non-stop.”

​”I haven’t broken down the full list of confirmed participants yet because of the Gabriel family mess,” Nat added, stepping up to her as he reached for the ribbon, his hand brushing against hers. She paused and let him undo it, taking the mask as it fell off her face.

He took a look at her face and smiled, keeping whatever thought he had to himself.

”The response rate is huge.” He continued his report. ”They’ll be flying in within the week.”

​”We need to speed it up,” April resolved silently, her mind already shifting to the morning meeting. ”Everything has to move at double speed.”

Nat paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught the subtle, sharp shift in her demeanor.

​”What’s the rush?” he asked, his tone dropping into a quiet, grounded curiosity.

​April didn’t answer immediately. She adjusted the collar of her coat, keeping her eyes fixed on the dim streetlights flickering across the black-market alleyway.

​”I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” she finally replied. ”I’ll have everyone gathered, and then...”

​She trailed off, silently hoping that by the time morning came, she would have managed to squeeze a clear, concrete answer out of the tight-lipped system regarding the timeline acceleration and those strange ”Apocalypse Trials” it mentioned.

​”We’re going to hold an urgent meeting first thing after breakfast,” April added, her brown eyes meeting his with absolute, unshakeable authority. ”Don’t be late.”