18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 13

Knowing that the tenant of 1801, Jasper, was aloof was one thing, but she didn't know he was prone to violence, especially towards children. Seeing Rosie's demeanor, it seemed like she had grown accustomed to the beatings. No wonder she was always running to Stella's apartment. Was she hiding from her abusive brother? "Why does he hit you?"

Even though it was someone else's family matter, child abuse was too much. Stella didn't ask Rosie about her past, but from her observations of Rosie's skittish gaze and her somewhat sycophantic personality, she couldn't help but recall her own unpleasant childhood memories, "Rosie, is he your real brother?"

That was why she didn't turn Rosie away.

"He teaches me to box." Rosie rubbed her bruised arm and gave Stella a sweet smile, "I got hit because I didn't dodge in time, and I fell a few times too."

Only then did Stella understand that Rosie had been practicing boxing for the past few days, for as much as five hours a day.

"Ma'am, let me show you my boxing."

Without waiting for Stella's response, she walked into a spacious area and assumed a stance. Rosie, who was usually a timid and shy little girl, suddenly became fierce when she started to box. Her posture was as if she had transformed into a completely different person. Her boxing style was military, her movements were standard and powerful, and her posture was particularly sharp, her eyes fierce and full of spirit.

Stella was dumbfounded. Rosie was even better than her. Stella complimented her, which made Rosie blush, "You're so nice." Her brother never praised her, no matter how well she did.

The number of bruises on Rosie's body indicated that she had been trained harshly. It was a hurricane day, and this high-intensity training for a four- or five-year-old child was alarming.

It seemed Jasper was preparing Rosie for something horrifying, for her to have self-defense abilities in the future?

Rosie's movements were precise, something that couldn't be learned from videos alone.

Stella didn't ask any further. She then applied some herbal wine on Rosie's bruises, "Soak it in hot water tonight."

fresh air, Rosie kissed

building was chaotic. There were fights, curses, and people ready to physically harm each other at the drop of a hat. The terrible weather and living conditions brought

residents of the 9th floor woke up early in the morning, they found that their house had been burgled and the little food they had left was gone. The hurricane

floor were huddled at their doorstep. If a thief had really entered, it was impossible not to

families were dissatisfied and squabbled, causing a ruckus. The thefts weren't just limited to the 9th floor. Other floors also had their share of burglaries. Even if the homeowners were awakened, they couldn't see clearly in

people living in the corridor, they didn't dare to move in face of the shiny knife, their eyes complex and dark, even gleaming with a light of schadenfreude. The victims deserved

to help, instead they barricaded their rooms with refrigerators or

schedule, sleeping after dinner when it got dark, setting an alarm for midnight and then getting up to do various

a few days, she heard noises outside. She pressed herself against the door and listened,

chaotic and crazy, with several groups knocking on the door during the day, asking if there was

Even if there were some, giving to this family but not to that one could potentially incite those starving to the point of desperation to swarm up and tear you apart. From Arcadia, she took out a butcher's knife, put on her night vision goggles, and quietly

lock was caught off guard. The man with the hook

few times, pushed him

was shocked and instinctively tried to run, but Stella caught him by the

into a figure. Before he could make a sound, his neck was twisted and broken. Without even a chance to fall to the ground, his body was thrown out of the window. Stella looked up, a tall figure was efficiently killing and disposing of bodies. To her surprise, the knife brutally slit the second man's throat. The man clutched his throat tightly, opened his mouth but couldn't scream, his body thrashing around uncontrollably. The apartment building was rife with rumors that 1802 had a lot of food reserves, and Stella was not

such a beautiful young woman was actually a

was the ugliness of human nature; even if given a second chance, he would choose to do evil. Stella sneered, and without hesitation, stabbed the man in the heart. She stood up, knife in hand, and warily watched the man not far away. Her vision was unclear in the dark, but judging

had stopped

expression tense and solemn, he said softly, "You did

he trying to

by tonight's events, killing and disposing of bodies calmly, his dark