Ethan was awakened by his phone alarm at 7:40.
Still a little confused and with a faint headache, he reached out for the phone on his bedside table, turned off the alarm, and felt a sudden urgency to get up.
"Last night I drank too much. I really can't keep doing this."
His mouth felt dry, and his throat was uncomfortable, like it was on fire.
Last night, he accompanied an important 38 year Female client. To sign the deal she ask to fullfill his needs in bed sex with him , Both went through three rounds of drinks—dinner, KTV, and supper. Although he could handle alcohol well, it was too much even for him.
At one point, he had sneaked off to the bathroom to throw up, but when he came back, he kept drinking. After vomiting multiple times, he finally got so drunk he couldn't remember how he got home.
"Ugh, drunk again." Ethan felt dizzy and groggy, sighing to himself about how hard life was, especially alone in a strange city.
He sat up from the bed, and when he put on his slippers, he realized they were wet.
"Huh? Why is the floor so wet?" Ethan suddenly became more alert and stood up quickly.
Could it be that in his drunken state, he left a faucet running, causing the place to flood?
Seeing water everywhere, he hurriedly checked the kitchen and bathroom, but there was no leak.
"Strange, there's no sign of any leaks."
Why is the floor so wet, as if it were flooded? But I'm on the top floor, so there's no way water could have leaked from above.
"Should I call a plumber or contact the landlord? Whatever, I'll deal with it after work."
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Ethan shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. He hated dealing with these kinds of problems.
He glanced at the time—it was already 7:50, and he had to be at work by 8:30. The bus ride to his office took about 20 minutes.
There was no time to waste. He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face.
Since he'd stayed up too late last night, his eyes were swollen. He pressed a towel to them while washing his face and, after ten seconds, removed it. His eyes felt a little better, and his head cleared a bit.
He took off the towel and turned to the bathroom window, pushing it open.
Looking out the window, Ethan's heart skipped a beat.
"What... what is this?"
His pupils dilated, and he leaned forward, sticking his head out the window.
All he could see was water. No tall buildings, no roads, no cars—just water everywhere.
"How can this be?"
Ethan couldn't help but shout, his heart racing as he quickly shut his eyes, his body trembling slightly.
"I must've had that towel over my eyes for too long—this has to be a hallucination," Ethan thought, rubbing his eyes again and reopening them.
Outside, the water remained. This time, he even spotted a blue plastic slipper floating by.
With a bang, Ethan slammed the window shut, his heart cold with fear. He rushed out of the bathroom, and in his haste, stubbed his toe on the doorframe, wincing in pain.
Ignoring his injured toe, Ethan limped to the balcony and yanked open the curtains. His hands trembled as he stood frozen, heart pounding wildly.
Through the windows on the balcony, he could see the truth.
The entire city was submerged under water, and what was once a bustling landscape had turned into an endless, boundless expanse of water.
In the distance, only a few scattered buildings poked above the water's surface. All the visible buildings were more than thirty stories high. Everything below thirty stories was completely submerged.
The building Ethan lived in was thirty stories tall, and only the top floor where he stayed was above the waterline. From the 29th floor down, it was all underwater.
"This can't be real... I must be dreaming!"
Although Ethan was 27 and had faced his fair share of challenges, he was still filled with fear and disbelief. He pinched his left arm hard, leaving a bruise.
The sharp pain and the reality in front of him made it clear: this wasn't a dream or an illusion.
As his foggy mind slowly began to clear, Ethan looked down at the damp floor.
Could this really be the reason the floor was wet?
Did the city actually flood while he slept last night?
But if such a massive flood occurred, how did he not hear anything? Or had he been too drunk to notice?
Suddenly realizing something, Ethan hurriedly opened the door and ran into the hallway, knocking on the door of his neighbor's apartment.
There were two other units on this floor. Ethan wasn't close to the occupants, but he knew a little about them. The young woman next door had only moved in two or three months ago. He'd seen her many times since they shared similar commuting hours, but they had never spoken.
Sometimes he saw her with different men, but she mostly came home alone.
"Hey, are you home?"
Ethan knocked loudly, not bothering with politeness, but there was no response.
When no one answered, he rushed down the corridor to the other apartment, where a young couple lived with a noisy Chihuahua.
Just as he was about to knock, he noticed the door was ajar.
"Is anyone there?" Ethan hesitated for a moment, but when no one answered, he pushed the door open.
The living room was a mess. Two pairs of shoes—one pair of men's leather shoes, the other women's high heels—were tossed by the door. One of the leather shoes was upside down. The garbage can had tipped over, and trash was scattered across the floor.
On the table were two takeout boxes—one with some soup left in it, the other spilled onto the table, the liquid solidified.