Doomsday: I Swapped My Luxury House for Their Shabby Home

I opened my eyes abruptly.

The excruciating pain in my throat, as if it had been bitten through, seemed to transcend the barriers of time and space, still throbbing wildly in my nerve endings. The suffocating sensation of sweet, metallic blood rushing into my trachea was the final mark death left on me.

In my past life, I discovered that my wife was having an affair with her fitness trainer, and even the daughter I cherished was not my biological child.

I hired a private investigator to gather evidence and then divorced her.

But when the apocalypse struck, I lay like a stray dog in the zombie-infested ruins, my eyes wide open in death.

My soul shattered and wandered in mid-air, and I clearly witnessed that horrific scene: Emily, my nominal wife, arm in arm with her lover—the fitness instructor nicknamed "Three Fingers," Julian—and their daughter, whom I had once cherished but who actually carried Julian's blood, hid in Julian 's Montana mountain cabin. It was the most perfect refuge in the world, with its thick wooden structure as a barrier, natural springs and buffer zones. The three of them sat there, warming themselves by the fireplace, watching the screams and wails outside the window, peacefully passing the rest of their lives until their natural death.

Rage. It was a flame purer and more intense than death, forging my shattered soul back into a cold, sharp blade.

"Ethan, are you really not giving us another chance?"

The voice in my ear brought my will back.

I snapped out of my daze. The cold air of the courtroom corridor filled my lungs, and the stench of death seemed to vanish instantly. I looked down and saw Emily clutching my suit sleeve, her eyes red and swollen, her meticulously applied makeup masking her masterful hypocrisy.

I had been reborn. Back to the day the agreement was signed.

Looking at her face—the face that had once haunted my dreams, now only disgusting—all the hatred I felt was instantly suppressed. I raised my head, deliberately revealing a hint of weariness and wavering in my eyes—the face of a broken person utterly destroyed by marriage.

"Emily, it's pointless," I sighed, my voice hoarse. "The legal process is over. I concede. If you still care about the child, if you want a place to live, that luxury villa in the suburbs of Los Angeles… transfer it to your name."

The air froze for a moment. Emily's feigned aggrieved face stiffened instantly, and then, a nauseating, unbelievable ecstasy ignited in her pupils like wildfire. She didn't even bother to maintain her feigned tears, staring at me with wide eyes: "You... Ethan, are you serious? You've decided to give me that villa?"

I lowered my eyes, avoiding her overly greedy scrutiny, my voice humble to the point of being humiliated: "Although you betrayed me, and that bastard Julian ruined my life completely, I still have feelings for that child... I don't want her to end up on the streets."

To make the performance more convincing, I let her try to hug me. The instant her fingertips touched my chest, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, trembling violently, and abruptly turned away.

"Ethan..." The contempt in her eyes, born of her satisfied greed, was clearly visible to me.

I caught it. I caught the fleeting smugness in her eyes, the pity she held for looking at a fool. She still thought I was that hopeless, heartbroken loser, deeply entangled in a love affair.

“The mansion is yours.” I looked up, my tone as cold as if I were discussing disposing of a pile of garbage. “But I need a place. A place where no one will bother me, even if it’s just to eke out a living.”

Emily wiped away the fake tears from the corners of her eyes, almost impatiently. She looked at me tentatively: “Where do you want to go? If you miss…miss Lily, I can let you come over every Friday…”

“No need.” I interrupted her coldly, my eyes filled with utter despair. “I’m completely disillusioned with women, and I feel suffocated by this city. I just want to find a deserted corner to spend the rest of my life in peace.”

“I want Julian’s abandoned hunting lodge deep in the mountains of Montana. It’s old, but quiet enough. It’s fair to trade it for your luxury villa, isn’t it?” I rubbed my temples . “If you agree, I’ll prepare a supplementary agreement immediately.”

Emily’s expression stiffened for a moment; she clearly hadn’t expected me to make such a self-destructive request. That lodge was a worthless, abandoned property Julian had bought to avoid taxes. She looked at me, a hint of barely concealed mockery flashing in her eyes, as if laughing at how I'd lost my mind, choosing to abandon luxury for the wilderness at this crucial moment.

But seconds later, that mockery was quickly replaced by fervor.

"No problem!" she agreed without hesitation, every movement proclaiming her eagerness. "Ethan, since you're so keen, Julian will definitely agree. We can head out right away to get the title deed , and once everything's over, we won't bother you, and you won't show your face in front of us again."

She impatiently pulled out her phone, dialing Julian's number while flashing me a victorious smile: "Just wait for that little cabin in Montana, that godforsaken place, you could live there for a lifetime and it would perfectly suit your current mental state."

Standing under the bright lights of the courtroom corridor, looking at her face, so eager to throw me into the wilderness like trash, a chilling sense of satisfaction welled up inside me.

“It’s not over yet,” I said calmly, interrupting her cheers. “Now that Julian has taken my house, he has to pay the price.”

Emily was in a state of extreme elation. She turned around, her smile almost distorted. “You mean an apology? My dear Ethan, as long as he gets the mansion, he won’t say a word against you, let alone let you vent your anger. He’ll even let you point your finger at him and yell at him.”

I looked at her, the evil spirit from my past life’s hell inside me laughing maniacally.

“I need more than just a simple apology,” I stared at Emily, adding, word by word. “He has to do one thing in front of everyone. After that, I’ll personally hand over the divorce papers and the mansion transfer to you immediately.”

Emily’s money-blinded eyes were now filled with endless contempt for me. She didn’t even bother to ask what it was, as if any cost was controllable as long as she could get rid of me, this “useless” bargaining chip.

She readily agreed, her tone even tinged with sarcasm: "Don't worry, as long as that villa is ours, he'll do anything, even kneel down and kowtow to you!"

I turned and walked towards the courthouse exit. The sky outside the corridor was ashen, the blood-red hue foreshadowing the end of the world, even if not yet fully revealed, already casting a tattered crimson shadow in my eyes.

Emily, you want that mansion as your grave, then I'll grant your wish. And that wooden house will be the starting point for my new world. This revenge, this is only the beginning.