18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 356

The leader of the pack was feeling pretty smug, thinking he'd slash the tires for an easy win. But as he got closer, he realized this car was something else sturdy, tough, and looking almost brand new. No way this baby had been through multiple natural disasters. "Must be some rich guy's ride," he thought. "No way it stays this pristine otherwise."

The windows were tinted, making it impossible to see inside. Circling the car, he found a tiny crack in one of the windows, just enough to peek through. Pressing his eye to the gap, he caught sight of a woman inside, alone. His blood started pumping faster. He couldn't make out her face, but from what he could see, she was living the good life.

Stella sensed something was off. Squinting through the privacy glass, she observed the figures outside. No rush. She noted the five men were armed with crude weapons only: a blood-stained baseball bat with nails, a sharpened steel pipe, a hefty iron rod, and a butcher's knife. No guns.

Braving the sandstorm for a heist meant they were likely local thugs, preying on refugees and survivors.

Three of them had faces pockmarked with scars, probably from acid rain, making them look even more menacing.

Seeing she wasn't armed with a gun, they visibly relaxed. One of them, showing off his rotten teeth, kicked the door and leered, "Morning, beautiful. Time to rise and shine."

Stella, confident they had no guns, slowly rolled down her window, feigning fear. "What do you want? My husband went out to scavenge for food, he'll be back any minute now."

"Husband? In this storm? He's probably a goner," one of them chuckled, eyeing her fair and delicate face. Their words grew more lewd, "But don't worry, we can take care of you from now on."

A bloodied knife tapped against the glass, "Open up, darling, let's have a little chat inside!"

Their jeering grew louder as Stella, still playing dumb, shook her head fearfully. "My husband will be back soon, he's a tough guy. You better leave while you can."

"Tough guy?" they laughed uproariously. "Where's this tough guy? Don't worry, he's nothing compared to us."

Despite their taunts, Stella refused to open the door. Seeing her frightened, deer-in-headlights look only emboldened them further, itching to drag her out and have their way.

One, unable to contain his menacing gaze, threatened, "Don't push your luck, lady. Either let us in, or come out yourself, or we'll finish you off."

Left with no choice, Stella timidly opened the door and stepped out.

was stuffy; her coat hung open,

curves like that in years," they murmured

a more sheltered spot, the men closed in around

middle-aged to young brutes, their weapons a testament to their criminal pasts, hands stained with countless victims' blood. One

motion, drew a submachine

were swift,

ones in front, then spun to

but not down, stumbled away into

Instead, she pulled out her samurai sword and methodically

chest, crawled backward, his face ashen, begging, "Mercy, miss,

"Hasn't anyone ever told you, in all these years, never to mess with a woman who's still got her shine in times like these?" The blade plunged in, the man's screams cut short, and soon he was silent,

the fading storm, Stella donned her wind goggles and

gushed out as he fell, watching her approach

had been right behind her, witnessing her conjure

"Don't come any

Stella smiled, waving her bloodied samurai sword, "You seemed pretty tough just a

got Arcadia," he blurted

it? All these years,

Arcadia, he'd be the one standing victoriously

to give

the sword straight into his heart,

sought death,

man died thoroughly, eyes wide open

encounter was a lesson for Stella. The storm was

it wasn't Jasper who found her,

storm, the meekest lamb could turn into a demon. But without a marker, how could