The last man on Earth turned his attention to the door, from which he heard three knocks.

That morning had started as an ordinary day for this gentleman. He woke up, made his bed, then went to wash up before heading downstairs for breakfast. A glass of milk and an apple awaited him, ready to meet their fate. He began with the apple. A sharp, sour taste, like a bitter lemon, took over his tongue. Grimacing, he frowned at the offending fruit. Losing his appetite for it, he dunked part of the apple into his glass of milk, hoping to mask the tartness. Yet, the taste remained unchanged. Unwilling to waste it, he devoured the apple in large, hasty bites.

"Not so bad," he muttered to himself.

He finished his breakfast by sipping the milk, but its taste had turned so sour he spat it into the sink.

"These cursed apples have it out for me!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"What apples?" a voice whispered in his ear.

Startled, he bolted to his shelter. His panicked heart, relentless in its betrayal, forced him to pause.

"Wh-what do you want? O mighty genie, have mercy on me!" he stammered, breathless.

"I want nothing from you. Today is your day!" boomed the genie, materializing as a mist before him.

"If that is your will, then grant me a painless end!" the man pleaded.

"Oh, you fool! Here I am, offering you a wish, and you choose death? So be it, if that is your desire," said the genie, raising his hand.

"Wait! O genie, I misunderstood you. Allow me a moment, and I shall reveal my wish!" the man cried.

"Very well. What will it be?"

"I wish to be the richest man in the world!" he declared with pride.

"So be it. Your wish is granted," said the genie. A strange sound, accompanied by fierce white winds, swept through the dining room.

"Behold, your wish is fulfilled. I now depart, my task here complete," the genie proclaimed, vanishing in a flash of smoke.

The man thanked the genie profusely, overwhelmed with excitement. His heart, suddenly calmed by joy, steadied its rhythm. Eager to share his fortune, he set off to visit his sister nearby.

Stepping outside, he froze. Corpses—thousands of them—were everywhere: sprawled on sidewalks, lawns, and buses.

"What... what is this?" he stammered, unable to form a coherent thought. He rushed to his sister's house. Horror awaited him there. She lay lifeless on the floor, covered in a dark, tar-like blood, just like the others. His body seized in terror, and he called for the genie.

"Genie! O genie, tell me, what is this calamity? Should I hide or die with honor, as a man would for his family?"

The genie appeared once more in a cloud of smoke, his face obscured but his voice thunderous.

"Was the wish I granted not the one you desired?"

"Yes, but what does this slaughter mean?" the man asked, bewildered.

"Do you not see? You are now the richest man in the world. Every human on Earth is dead because of your wish. No one can rival your wealth. Now go and do not disturb me again, or face the consequences!" With that, the genie disappeared as abruptly as he had come.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" the man cried in anguish.

His soul too numb for further tears, he slumped into a chair by the door. He sat motionless until he heard several knocks. Clinging to hope, he opened the door without hesitation, praying someone else had survived.

What he found sent chills through his body. The furious spirits of countless men, women, and children, brandishing weapons of vengeance, stood before him. Paralyzed with fear, he bolted the door with its five locks and shoved a sofa against it. Resigned to his fate, he returned to his chair, letting the relentless pounding on the door echo through his mind until his final breath.