CHAPTER 48: STOCKING UP AND SEEING ALINA

The next morning, around nine o’clock, Ivan was still sleeping when his phone started ringing.

He glanced at the screen—it was an unknown number.

"Hello, who’s this?" Ivan asked, his voice still sleepy.

"Good morning! Is this Mr. Ivan?"

"Yes, speaking. And you are?"

"I’m calling from Volga Blue Restaurant. The first batch consisting 1,000 banquet meals you ordered have been packed and are ready. Shall we deliver them now?"

Ivan sat up, a bit surprised.

"Already? Yeah, send them over."

He hadn’t expected them to be this fast. It had only been a little over a day.

Money really does move mountains.

After having a quick breakfast at the dorm mess hall, Ivan made his way to the warehouse he had rented in the industrial zone.

The area was quiet as usual, with only the hum of distant machinery and the occasional dog barking in the background.

When he arrived, he noticed a large delivery truck already parked outside the gate.

It was from Volga Blue Restaurant, one of the places he had placed a massive banquet order with.

Ivan walked over and unlocked the warehouse shutter, then gave a simple nod to the workers standing by the truck.

"Go ahead. Start unloading."

The workers didn’t ask questions. They opened the truck and began carrying out stacked food containers, carefully placing them inside the warehouse.

Ivan stood at the doorway, giving simple instructions while supervising the process.

It took about twenty minutes to finish the job. Once they were done, they wiped their hands, nodded at Ivan, and drove off.

Ivan waited until the area was completely clear.

Then, without wasting time, he stepped inside and stored everything into his dimensional ring—quick and effortless.

Food, complimentry water pouches —all gone in a blink, hidden away in a space where time stood still.

Now, he simply had to wait for the next trucks from other restaurants.

This was just the beginning.

Soon, the entire warehouse would be filled with meals, water, and medicine—then just as quickly, emptied into the space only he could access.

For the next five days, different trucks came one after another, delivering everything from banquet food to packed meals, to the were house.

Naturally, this kind of activity could caught the attention of some curious people.

But Ivan didn’t care. Let them wonder.

After receiving the last food delivery for the fifth day, Ivan leaned against the warehouse wall to catch his breath.

Later that day, he drove straight to a large pharmaceutical chain office.

Ivan knew that getting sick after the apocalypse would be almost a death sentence. There would be no hospitals, no doctors, no antibiotics.

So he needed to stock up—everything from painkillers and antibiotics to bandages, vitamins, and even surgical tools.

But he wasn’t done yet.

Once the apocalypse began, the land would become hell, the mountains would turn to rock, and freshwater rivers would be mixed with salty ocean water, making it undrinkable.

Water power stations would stop working, and electricity would vanish.

The only way to survive?

Generators. Gasoline. Diesel. Coal.

That was next on Ivan’s list.

And this time, he would clean out every supplier in Moscow if needed.

While meeting with the branch manager, Ivan didn’t waste time.

"I want to buy everything you have in your warehouse," he said directly.

The manager blinked in confusion.

"Excuse me? Are you serious?" he asked, thinking it was either a prank or some kind of mistake.

Ivan didn’t feel like explaining too much, so he made something up:

"I’m donating everything to poor villages in the mountains—places that really need medical supplies."

The manager’s face lit up.

"Ah, I see! That’s incredibly kind of you. Not many people do that these days!"

Realizing it was a huge order, the manager quickly shifted gears.

This kind of sale could make his entire quarterly performance skyrocket, and the commission would be huge.

After making the payment, Ivan asked them to deliver all the medicine to his werehouse.

------

Later that evening, Ivan decided to go clear his head. stress was getting to him.

He drove down to the beachside near Lake Baikal, where the breeze was soft, and the sky glowed with orange and gold.

He sat quietly, letting the wind calm his thoughts.

But as he looked across the open area, something caught his eye.

A small group had gathered by the promenade.

And right there, at the center of it all, stood Alina—cool and composed, just like he remembered Duro describing.

Her younger sister was standing right behind her, Alina was clearly trying to shield her from a group of pushy guys.

The men looked like they were trying to flirt with them, and the situation was starting to get uncomfortable.

Ivan narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Well, isn’t this interesting..." he muttered, slowly rising from his seat.

Then he saw how she handled the situation and walked past them. Ivan raised an eyebrow and thought,

"Interesting."

---

That evening, while enjoying the cool breeze at the shores of Lake Baikal, one of the calmest and most peaceful places near Moscow.

Ivan mind wandered back to his earlier chat with Duro—especially the part about Alina, the so-called Ice Queen.

Now seeing her in-person, she really is quite good looking and hot.

It’s no wonder she gets love letters every day.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was smart, confident, and one of the top medical students at the university.

Everyone knew who she was. She’d been called the campus belle for a reason.

She had received countless love confessions, but had turned every single one of them down—cold and direct, just like her personality.

Ivan didn’t know her personally.

In fact, in his previous life, he had never spoken to her—or her sister.

But now that things were different, he looked at her with a new perspective.

"If I can convince her to become my personal doctor, that would be a huge win."

Medical knowledge, especially from someone like Alina, would be invaluable in the apocalypse.

Thinking about this made Ivan’s eyes sharpen. He already knew what to do next.

He pulled out his phone and searched online for a private investigator.

After a bit of digging, he found someone who looked professional and reached out.

They had a brief chat.

Ivan told him what he needed:

"Background info, habits, routines, everything on Alina and her sister. I want details."

The detective asked a few questions and then gave his price.

They negotiated for a few minutes, agreed on a number, and set up a meeting time.

As he ended the call, Ivan leaned back in his beach chair, staring at the orange evening sky.

"Alina," he murmured with a small smile,

"Let’s see what you’re really like."

--------

The next morning, Ivan woke up early. He didn’t waste any time.

He pulled out an old, secure phone he used only for "business"—the kind that couldn’t be tracked easily.

He started calling a few trusted contacts from his underground drug connections. These were people he had helped in his past life, and some still owed him favors.

"I need you to set up meetings," he told them.

"But only with mafia bosses—the ones who control access to clean water."

The world was already dealing with water shortages, and Ivan knew it was only going to get worse. When the apocalypse hit, fresh water would become more valuable than gold.

People would kill for it.

That’s why Ivan had to act now—before the panic started.

He wasn’t interested in making deals for drugs, weapons, or territory. All he wanted was water—and lots of it.

He told his contacts clearly:

"Find out who has the biggest stockpiles of bottled water, sealed barrels, underground tanks—whatever they’ve got. And arrange meetings. I’ll handle the rest."

Some of them were confused at first, but no one question him for long.

After all, when Ivan gets serious, people listen.

He sat back and looked out his window, watching the sun rise over Moscow’s skyline.

"This time," he thought,

"I’ll be the one who owns the things that matter most."

Water.

Power.

Control.

The countdown had begun.

------

At evening,while leaving the werehouse, his phone rang.

It was one of his old contacts from the underground network.

"The meeting’s set," the voice said.

"Tonight at 10 p.m., in Bratva’s Quarter near Yekaterininsky Lane."

Ivan nodded slowly.

"Got it."

He ended the call and looked towards the sky.

"Who would’ve thought," he muttered to himself with a tired smile,

"I’d be meeting with the mafia one day..."

"The world’s really changing. Or maybe... the gods are really messing with me."

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Author’s note:-

Thanks for reading this far! If you’re enjoying Ivan’s dark journey from humiliation to power, let me know in the comments. Your feedback means a lot and helps me grow this story even stronger. Don’t forget to leave a review and share your thoughts—who knows, your words might shape the next twist!

See you in the next Chapter!

—Author