18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



Her question hit him like a punch to the gut, but Bran answered honestly, "Construction. Hauling bricks."

Stella sized him up, noting the scars on his face and hands-evidence of a hard-fought survival. In the face of natural disasters, everyone was equal, even a tycoon's son.

She didn't pry about his life since they'd parted ways. Even if recounted with a smile, the tales were likely steeped in brutal truths.

"How about we treat you to a meal when you're off?" she offered.

At the mention of food, Bran's eyes lit up. "Barbecue?"

"You wish. After all these years of disasters, and you're still dreaming of a feast?" Despite her words, the joy of reunion was undeniable. "Rosie's been working at the plantation. I'll see if I can scrounge up some spices so you can indulge a bit."

Bran perked up. "How are Rosie and your hubby doing?"

She gave him her address. "Doing alright. Swing by when you're free."

Bran lived in Area C and spoke his mind. "Sis, I'm free on the weekend."

Alright then. A weekend it is. They'd have themselves a proper bash.

After ensuring his comrade was okay, Bran went back to his bricks. Stella watched him leave-lean but still proud. He looked much better than the last time she saw him rummaging through trash. He seemed to have found a solid reason to keep living. He no longer ran away from familiar faces out of shame. There he was, half a month in, already hauling bricks. It seemed the privileged second-generation man had fully grasped the harsh reality and was actively engaging with life.

Back home from work, Stella mentioned Bran to Jasper. Ocean Point Naval Station now housed over twenty thousand souls, with a hospital, a salt plant, a food factory, water purification, and plantations all operational. Life was still tough, but better than before. Of the two thousand plus from South Base, even fewer were from Griffith. Stella only knew Monkey's family and Bran.

Beyond the basics, people needed emotional ties and interactions. Planning a meal together sounded pretty good. Jasper suggested, "How about we dine in the submarine? Invite Monkey's family too?"

Stella agreed. They'd set it up for the weekend.

Miranda had harvested potatoes twice and even sold some fast-growing herbs she'd propagated. After consulting with Stella a few times, she'd mastered some massage techniques, benefiting her son and husband's health with regular practice. Monkey, all smiles, appreciated his wife's increasing kindness. He eagerly accepted the dinner invite, pondering what special thing he could bring to repay his sister's hospitality.

But when Jasper had to work an extra half-shift, they decided to push the gathering to the evening. Ten years post-disaster, there was no hope for hot pot seasonings. The submarine had an air extraction system, and Stella had set up an induction cooker and an oven. With some dips and a few hot dishes, they were set for a feast.

Miranda brought some greens, while Monkey, with a sly grin, produced a slab of smoked meat. "Sis, this is the good stuff. Took me ages to find."

Aged smoked meat looked fine

indeed, but Stella dared not partake. While he wasn't looking, she swapped it for a similar piece from Arcadia, Stella had prepared leeks mustard greens, bell peppers, and chilies-plants readily available from the plantation where Rosie worked, ensuring they had what they needed. The smoked sausage and salted fish were from her own stockpile.

Monkey, sweet-tongued as ever, quipped, "Sis, following you means never going hungry." He was helpful and even pitched in with the prep. Miranda and her son picked the veggies on the side, the boy's eyes frequently darting to the chopping board, his mouth watering at the sight of meat.

Bran arrived last, bringing a pound of fish cakes. He had long since shed any pretense of dignity, choosing to hustle for brick-hauling work. "Sis, got any barbecue? I've been craving it."

Brother? Monkey's gaze shifted. That was his sister there. Bran raised an eyebrow, "What's up?"

Once a tycoon's son, even reduced to labor, his inherent pride persisted. Bran respected only those stronger than him like Stella and Jasper, who had seen his countless humiliations. In front of them, he could forgo pride, but that didn't mean others could disregard him. Especially not someone like Monkey, a mere trader, even though Austin himself had to handle him with care. Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

So, he arched an eyebrow, though his tone was much more restrained than in his former high-class neighborhood. Monkey, seasoned in business, treated everyone like a client, always leaving room for face-saving. Unbothered by Bran's attitude, Monkey chuckled, "Looks like the young master's gotten even more handsome."

A cold glance wouldn't cost him a thing; the real skill was in earning cash. Bran's mood instantly lifted. "If you're gonna flatter me, lay it on thick." It had been ages since anyone had praised him. Oh, how he missed his diamond-studded slippers, the slick hair gel, the flashy coats...

Dinner was in the hands of the junior chef, with bell peppers stir-fried with smoked meat, steamed salted fish with fermented black beans, and garlic chili sauce. The aroma made Bran's stomach growl uncontrollably. Unable to resist, he reached out...

With two brothers to consider, Stella wasn't partial. She kicked him lightly, "Young master, need me to spoon-feed you? Go wash your hands!" After Stella's unique brand of attention, Bran wasn't offended. He withdrew his hand and obediently went to wash. But he couldn't resist a jibe, "Rosie, your cooking's amazing. Got a boyfriend yet?"

Boyfriend? Rosie nearly lost it, tempted to smack him with the ladle. Jasper's gaze swept over, and Bran shrank back, "Bro-in-law, just joking. Don't look at me like I'm a criminal."

Bran was still Bran, ever the rascal,

et

incapable of change. After Jasper's glare, the brick-hauler finally behaved, quietly setting the table. Stella had little interest in the fish cakes he'd brought, leaving them untouched at the side. She cooked a pot of mixed grain rice, modest enough to not raise questions about their resources. Still, the large pot of rice had everyone salivating.

When was the last time they'd had a proper meal? Stella declared generously, "What's with the stunned silence? We might not have much in the way of dishes, but there's plenty of rice."

Monkey, both greedy and considerate, asked, "Sis, this meal's not going to break you, is it?"

Stella retorted, "You already call me 'sis'. Do you think I'd let you go hungry? Eat up without worry."