My Three Vampire Queens In The Apocalypse-Chapter 52: Five Fools and a Better Idea

I kept walking without stopping, letting the distance between me and those five geniuses stretch out naturally until even the idea of them started to feel far away.

The street ahead was quiet in a way that felt almost staged, like the world was performing peace just to see if I would relax and make a mistake.

I did not plan on giving it that satisfaction, but I could not deny that something about this moment felt... lighter.

Not emotionally. That would be asking too much.

Financially.

I adjusted the pouches in my hand and listened to the faint clink of coins shifting against each other. It was a clean sound. Simple. Honest in a way nothing else in this world seemed to be.

Some people probably found comfort in silence or music, but right now, this was better than both. This was the sound of profit. The sound of five bad decisions turning into one very good one.

"Okay," I muttered under my breath, more to organize my thoughts than anything else, "that should not have worked that easily."

I gave it a fair moment of consideration, because it was important to stay realistic about these things. Overconfidence was how people ended up dead in places like this.

"No, actually, it makes sense," I corrected myself after thinking it through. "They were not exactly operating at peak intelligence."

That explanation sat better with me. It kept things grounded. It also prevented me from developing the dangerous belief that I could just walk around convincing anyone of anything, which would definitely get me killed sooner rather than later.

Still, even with that logic, there was something about the whole situation that did not sit perfectly right. It lingered at the edge of my thoughts like something unfinished, something I should probably look into but would rather ignore for now.

So I ignored it.

Because I had learned something important about survival. Not every problem needed to be solved immediately. Some problems could wait. Some problems should wait. And some problems, if you were lucky, solved themselves or at least became someone else’s problem.

I shifted my grip on the pouches again and kept moving, deciding that I needed a distraction before my thoughts drifted somewhere unhelpful again.

"Alright," I said quietly, "we are picking a topic."

This was not optional. This was necessary.

Because if I did not control my thoughts, they would control themselves, and based on recent evidence, they were not very good at that.

I thought for a moment, then nodded to myself once the answer came.

"Food," I decided.

It was perfect. Safe. Universal. No unnecessary complications.

No one had ever made a bad decision because they were calmly thinking about food.

At least that was what I chose to believe.

I let that thought settle and continued walking, easing into it properly this time.

"Alright," I continued, "if I had unlimited coins, what would I eat first?"

That question deserved respect. It was not something to rush.

This was long-term planning.

Important planning.

I frowned slightly as I thought it through.

"Biryani," I said after a moment.

It was a strong choice. Reliable. Comforting. High return on satisfaction.

But almost immediately, I shook my head.

"No, that is too safe," I said. "You just scammed five people. This is not the time to think small."

I needed ambition.

Vision.

Something that matched the scale of what I had just done.

"Fine," I said, committing to the idea, "a full multi-course meal."

That sounded expensive, which meant it sounded correct.

I imagined it for a moment. Dish after dish, each one better than the last, everything perfectly made, perfectly timed. The kind of meal you did not rush through because rushing would be disrespectful.

Then a thought interrupted it.

"...Do I even trust the food here?"

I slowed down slightly as that question settled in.

This world was not normal. That was something I needed to remember at all times. There was a very real possibility that whatever ended up on my plate had been trying to kill someone not too long ago.

"I do not want my food to have a violent past," I muttered. "That feels like a bad dining experience."

I walked in silence for a few seconds, thinking about that more seriously than I probably should have. It was not just about taste anymore. It was about safety. About trust. About not being attacked by your own meal halfway through eating it.

That felt like a reasonable standard.

As I continued forward, my thoughts drifted again, but this time not in a completely random direction. Instead, they shifted toward something oddly specific.

Kim Dokja.

I stopped walking for a second.

"...Why am I thinking about Kim Dokja right now?" I asked quietly.

There was no clear answer, but the comparison made an uncomfortable amount of sense.

"That guy reads everything like it is part of a story and somehow survives," I muttered. "Meanwhile, I am out here scamming people and thinking about food like that is a strategy."

I resumed walking, shaking my head slightly.

"Actually... no," I continued, "thinking about food might be a better strategy. At least food does not try to manipulate me."

I paused.

"...Usually."

That was not reassuring.

Still, the thought helped me refocus.

"Alright," I said, "simple plan. Survive, get rich, eat properly."

That was clean. Clear. Easy to follow.

I liked it.

I nodded slightly as I walked, feeling a bit more grounded.

"Yes. That is enough. No need to complicate things."

I adjusted the pouches again, paying more attention this time. The weight was not just satisfying anymore. It was real. Tangible. Proof that I was moving forward, even if the path I was taking was questionable at best.

"Still," I muttered, "this is not sustainable."

That thought came naturally.

I could not just rely on running into five idiots every day. That was not a system. That was luck.

And luck had a very bad habit of running out at the worst possible time.

"What I need," I continued slowly, thinking it through, "is a structure. Something repeatable."

I frowned slightly.

"What if I build something where people willingly give me their coins because they think it benefits them?"

I paused.

Then I sighed.

"...That is just scamming again."

I considered it for a moment longer.

"...But organized."

That sounded better.

Much better.

I let the idea grow as I walked, exploring it properly this time instead of dismissing it immediately.

"No group," I said after a moment. "Groups come with expectations. Expectations come with problems."

I did not want problems.

I already had enough.

"So not a group," I continued, "just influence."

That felt like the right word.

Vague enough to be flexible. Strong enough to sound intentional.

I was just starting to feel satisfied with that thought when something interrupted it.

A small shift.

Subtle, but clear enough to notice.

I slowed down.

"...What was that?"

I looked down at the pouches in my hand, my grip tightening slightly without me realizing it.

For a moment, everything looked normal.

Then I felt it again.

Not a movement.

Not exactly.

More like... a presence.

Faint. Indirect. Difficult to define.

Like the coins carried something more than just weight.

I stood there for a second, staring at them, trying to decide whether this was real or just my mind overreacting again.

"...No," I said quietly. "We are not doing this right now."

I opened one of the pouches anyway.

Just slightly.

Just enough to look inside.

Coins.

Normal coins.

No glow. No movement. No obvious sign that anything was wrong.

I stared at them longer than necessary, waiting for something to happen, as if they might react to being observed.

They did not.

Of course they did not.

That would have been too straightforward.

I closed the pouch slowly, still not entirely convinced.

"This is fine," I said. "Everything is completely fine. These are normal coins that I obtained through very normal and respectable means."

That sounded convincing.

Almost.

I started walking again, but this time my thoughts did not return to food as smoothly. They lingered somewhere in between, split between planning meals and questioning whether I was carrying something I really should not be carrying.

That was not ideal.

I needed focus.

"Food," I said firmly. "We are sticking with food."

I forced my thoughts back into place.

"If I had my own place," I continued, returning to the earlier idea, "what would I call it?"

That question felt safer.

More controlled.

Names mattered. A good name could attract people. A bad one could drive them away. And in this world, attracting the wrong kind of attention could be fatal. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

I thought about it carefully, letting the idea develop instead of rushing to an answer.

"Something simple," I said slowly. "Something calm. Something that does not sound like a warning."

I considered a few options, none of them sticking properly.

Then one came to mind.

"’Safe Bite,’" I said.

I paused.

"...That sounds like it is trying too hard."

I sighed quietly and kept walking, letting the idea remain unfinished.

It did not need to be perfect right now.

What mattered was that I kept moving, both physically and mentally, without getting stuck on something that could wait.

The unease from earlier had not disappeared. It stayed there, quiet and persistent, like something watching from just outside my awareness. I could feel it whenever I paid attention to the coins for too long, which was exactly why I chose not to.

"...I will check them later," I muttered.

Not here.

Not now.

Later, when I had time and a safer environment.

That was the kind of problem that belonged to the future.

And future me could deal with it.

I exhaled slowly and adjusted my grip one last time, letting the faint sound of coins ground me again as I followed the pull of Juli’s insects deeper into the quiet street, balancing my thoughts between planning a future that involved good food and pretending that everything in my hand was completely normal.

Because for now, that was enough.