Chapter 20-A perfect cycle

Chapter 20: 20-A perfect cycle

At 9:13 a.m., Aymara woke up naturally for the first time in days. She hadn’t been jolted awake by an alarm, a phone call, or the terrifying realization that another hour had disappeared from her preparation schedule.

She had actually slept in, and surprisingly, the world hadn’t ended while she slept.

There were no frantic calls to make, no suppliers waiting impatiently for her arrival, no racing across the city, and no hurried breakfast eaten with one hand while checking inventory with the other.

Instead, Aymara sat quietly at the dining table with a plate of fluffy pancakes, a side plate of fresh fruit, and a cup of steaming tea warming her hands.

She lifted the cup and took a slow sip before turning her attention toward the enormous windows. Something was different.

The sky had changed. It wasn’t the soft gray of an ordinary rainy morning. Thick clouds covered the heavens, heavy and dark, their edges almost bruised-looking as they stretched endlessly across the horizon. They looked less like clouds and more like a warning.

Strangely, the temperature had risen as well. Despite the air conditioning running inside the cruise, the room felt warmer than usual.

Aymara slowly lowered her cup. "The weather is starting."

She had seen this before. In her previous life, people had dismissed the strange weather as an unusual seasonal change.

They had complained about the heat, joked about the humidity, taken pictures of the bizarre clouds, and uploaded them to social media. Nobody had been afraid, not a single person had understood the warning. Then the first catastrophic storm arrived, and everything changed.

"Not this time," she sighed. She felt bad for the ignorant but she wasn’t looking to be a saint.

Aymara calmly cut a piece of pancake and placed it in her mouth. She didn’t feel panic. She had already witnessed the ending once. This time, she was simply watching the beginning.

The television playing quietly in the corner suddenly caught her attention.

"Meteorological agencies are warning citizens about an unprecedented heatwave expected to affect several regions..."

Aymara glanced toward the screen. The news anchor continued speaking with a professional expression, seemingly unaware of how insignificant these warnings would soon become.

"Temperatures are expected to rise significantly over the next forty-eight hours. Authorities are advising citizens to remain hydrated and avoid prolonged exposure to direct sunlight. Vulnerable individuals are particularly encouraged to remain indoors..."

Aymara took another sip of tea. Forty-eight hours, which was exactly two days. The countdown was becoming real.

She finished her breakfast without rushing and then took a long, warm bath. Afterward, she dressed comfortably, grabbed her belongings, and left the house. The moment she stepped outside, heat struck her face. Aymara immediately squinted.

"What the..."

It was already unbearably hot. The air felt thick and oppressive, almost heavy enough to breathe. Sunlight reflected violently off the pavement, making the road shimmer in the distance.

People were walking faster than usual, some shielding their faces with umbrellas despite the clear sky while others wore hats or held pieces of clothing over their heads. Cars passed with their windows tightly shut and air conditioners running at full power.

Aymara hurried into her car and immediately turned the air conditioning to maximum.

"Unbelievable."

She had experienced heatwaves before, but there was something deeply unnatural about this one. It was only the beginning, and the world had no idea what was coming.

Aymara drove toward the hospital. When she arrived, however, she didn’t go directly into Nathaniel’s room. Instead, she stopped at a distance where she could see his ward through the glass.

Nathaniel was there. Aymara’s gaze immediately softened at the sight of him. He looked slightly more tired than yesterday. More importantly, for the first time since she’d started secretly observing him, he wasn’t reading. His iPad lay untouched beside him.

Aymara’s eyebrows knitted together. Was the heat already affecting him?

Her heart tightened. She couldn’t take any chances when it came to Nathaniel’s health.

Immediately, she turned around and searched for a nurse. Fortunately, it was the same nurse who had helped her during her previous visit.

The moment the nurse recognized her, she approached. Aymara quietly explained her concerns and, with the nurse’s help, spoke to several other nurses and eventually the ward supervisor.

One by one, generous "donations" mysteriously changed hands. The hospital staff were more than willing to accept her concern and her generosity.

Aymara didn’t care about the money. Money was meaningless if Nathaniel wasn’t alive to benefit from it.

"I want his room monitored closely throughout the heatwave," she instructed. "The air conditioning needs to remain functional at all times. Make sure he has enough water. His meals must follow his doctor’s instructions exactly, and his medication needs to be administered on schedule."

She paused. "And please don’t allow his care to become less attentive because of the weather. If he develops even the slightest unusual symptom, I want to be informed immediately."

The ward supervisor nodded seriously.

Aymara wasn’t finished. "Also, arrange backup cooling equipment. If the main system fails, I don’t want anyone scrambling to find a replacement."

The nurses exchanged bewildered looks. They had never seen someone worry so intensely about a patient who apparently wasn’t even family. One of them eventually couldn’t resist asking,

"Are you family, Miss?"

Aymara didn’t hesitate as she said, "Yes, I am."

The answer came so naturally that even she almost believed it. She turned back toward the glass. Nathaniel was drinking water, and Aymara watched him take several slow sips. Her shoulders relaxed.

’Good.’

At least he was hydrating. She glanced at the air-conditioning monitor. The room was cool and that made her feel even better.

Aymara remained there for nearly an hour, watching from a distance and making sure everything was functioning properly. Only after she was certain Nathaniel was comfortable did she finally leave.

She stepped into the elevator. The doors closed.

DING!

Aymara stopped. The familiar system screen appeared before her.

[Secret Mission Completed.]

[Mission: Doting on Beloved.]

Aymara blinked. Again?

At this point, she was beginning to suspect the system had developed an unhealthy favoritism toward Nathaniel.

What exactly did it mean that every time she took care of Nathaniel, she earned points, completed missions, and received rewards? Meanwhile, the system remained completely silent whenever she took care of herself.

Aymara stared at the notification. "Again?"

That was what she said aloud. What she desperately wanted to ask was, ’Don’t you see it when I dote on myself?’

The system, apparently very aware of her inner turmoil, completely ignored that matter.

[Host has demonstrated exceptional concern for the beloved’s comfort.]

[Reward: Storage Space Expansion.]

Aymara’s eyes widened. The storage space expanded and expanded, stretching farther into the distance until its horizon seemed to disappear entirely. Aymara stared at the transformation before breaking into a bright smile. ℴ

"Excellent!"

So what if the system seemed slightly biased toward Nathaniel? The rewards were still benefiting her, and honestly, she didn’t mind completing missions that involved taking care of him.

More storage meant more supplies, more supplies meant greater survival chances, and greater survival chances meant Nathaniel had a better chance of surviving the apocalypse. It was practically a perfect cycle.