In the Apocalypse, I’m the Factory Heir, So What If I Only Take in Female Employees?

The apocalypse has arrived. Survivors are so hungry their eyes glow green, and they’re willing to risk their lives for half a moldy can of food.

But the rundown factory An Le’s father left behind has become his greatest golden finger.

The System activates with simple, no-nonsense rules: hire female employees and get rewards, plus random buffs.

Today, he hires a college girl who knows how to grow vegetables, and the wasteland outside the factory fills with fresh produce overnight;

tomorrow, an older woman with a veterinary degree joins up, and the piglets on the farm grow faster than zombies;

the day after, he hires a sweet young accountant, and the warehouse capacity doubles instantly.

While survivors outside chew tree bark and drink filthy water, at An Le’s factory:

the canteen serves two meat dishes and one vegetable dish at every meal, with plenty for everyone; the staff dorms have private bathrooms and hot water; the workshop runs eight-hour shifts with everyone clocking out on time; social insurance and housing funds arrive promptly at the end of the month, and weekends are always free.

Sounds absurd? It gets even more absurd.

Once high-and-mighty actresses, internet celebrities, and female CEOs now crowd the factory gates, disheveled and desperate for a “permanent position” that comes with food and lodging.

That alone wouldn’t be a problem, until someone noticed that the ages of the women An Le hired spanned a rather wide range.

The neighboring survivor camp erupted. They marched to the factory gates together to protest:

“He hires an eighteen-year-old dropout, a thirty-year-old single mother, and even a fifty-year-old canteen auntie…”

“Is this a factory or a harem? His tastes are way too extreme!”

An Le sauntered to the gate and replied with righteous conviction:

“Me, a pervert? I just want to give them a safe and stable home. What did I do wrong?”