Vampire Overlord's Harem In The Apocalypse

Simon stood in the kitchen, staring at the dusty shelves that lined the walls. The mansion, though spacious and relatively secure, felt empty — like a shell.

It was his now, but there was still work to do. The evening had settled in, and outside, the sky had long since turned dark.

No slivers of sunlight reached through the cracks in the sky anymore. Just darkness. But for Simon, it wasn't an issue.

Being a vampire had its perks, one of which was enhanced night vision. He could see clearly in the dimness of the room, almost like it was still day.

He took a rag from the counter and dusted it through the air, watching as the particles settled to the floor.

It wasn't much, but it was something. With a quick swipe, he wiped down the shelves.

He wasn't the kind of person to leave things half-done, especially not in a world like this. Every little task helped bring a sense of normalcy to an otherwise chaotic existence.

The shelves had been mostly bare when he first arrived — except for a few odds and ends left behind by previous inhabitants.

But Simon had managed to gather the resources he had gotten from his travels. The car he'd scavenged was a treasure trove, and now everything had a place. He started with the food.

The canned goods were easy to stack, and there were some fruits he'd picked up along the way — bananas, apples, and a few other things that had somehow survived the chaos.

"Not bad for a start," Simon muttered to himself as he neatly arranged the cans.

He placed the fruits on a separate shelf, the apples and bananas looking out of place in the cold, dark kitchen, yet they still brought a sense of comfort.

Even in this broken world, small things like fresh fruit could bring a little bit of normalcy.

Next, Simon turned his attention to the canned foods. Canned beans, instant noodles, and a few other random items.

He'd taken everything he could find, but even now, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The noodles were important — he had always liked them — but without a way to cook them, they were practically useless.

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. The old, familiar smell of dust and stale air seemed to hang in the mansion, making him feel more isolated than he'd like to admit.

The idea of hot food, of sitting down to a warm meal, seemed like a luxury now.

Simon's eyes scanned the room, and he thought back to the old days when cooking wasn't such a problem.

Back when gas stoves were a given in every home. Now, they were a distant memory, and cooking had become an afterthought. He couldn't even boil water, let alone cook a decent meal. It was frustrating. Still, there was no point in dwelling on it.

"Maybe I can find a gas stove in the Market," he muttered under his breath. He knew the Market was a place to trade and barter, and there had to be someone out there selling one.

But he quickly pushed the thought aside. He had bigger things to focus on. Getting a stove wasn't going to make him stronger, and right now, strength was what he needed most.

The only thing that really mattered in this new world was survival.

He shifted the last of the canned food into place and then turned his attention to the lower cabinets.

The fuel he'd gotten was next. It was important to keep it stored properly — just in case.

Fuel wasn't something to waste, not in a world where every resource felt scarce.

Simon carefully placed each canister of fuel in the lower cabinet, making sure everything was organized and secure.

As he finished, he stood back and surveyed the kitchen. It wasn't perfect, but it was functional.

It was his space now. There was no one else around to take care of it apart from the girl.

Simon's gaze wandered across the room, landing on the rifle he'd found in the shop. It was a good rifle, something that would come in handy.

In this new world, weapons meant survival. If he was going to make it, he needed to be prepared for anything — human or monster. The rifle had already been cleaned and loaded, and now it sat on the counter, a silent reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the mansion's walls.

He felt the reassuring weight of the pistol tucked in his pocket. The feeling of it was comforting — familiar.

He ran his fingers over the cold metal, thinking of the journey that had brought him here. The encounters, the dangers, the fights. He had survived them all, but he knew better than to get complacent. There were always more threats, more challenges ahead.

"I'll go Zombie hunting tomorrow," Simon said quietly to himself, his voice steady and resolute.

It was a thought that had been running through his mind for a while. There were plenty of them out there, roaming the streets, waiting to be dealt with. It was a dangerous job, but it was necessary. And more importantly, it would give him something to do.

The thought of hunting, of taking down those mindless creatures, brought a sense of purpose.

In a world where everything had crumbled, purpose was hard to come by. But hunting zombies — killing them with the rifle, the pistol, or even his own strength — was something Simon could control.

It gave him focus, a goal in a world full of uncertainty and it would help him rank up.

He turned toward the window, looking out at the darkening world. The mansion was quiet now, and for a brief moment, Simon allowed himself to breathe.

The silence was something he didn't mind, but it also served as a reminder of just how alone he was.

He had everything he needed to survive for now. Food, weapons, shelter. But what about the future? What about the rest of the world?

The Market, the rankings, the people he'd yet to meet — there was so much still out there. It was tempting to think about. To consider what other options were available.

But Simon wasn't ready for that yet. He needed to grow stronger first.

And then there was a rattle, something that stood out in the quiet of the night. It was the sound of feet thudding against the ground, several feet at that.