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.

her coat hung

that in

men closed in

young brutes, their weapons a testament to their criminal pasts, hands stained with countless victims' blood. One of the men, too eager, reached

and in a swift motion, drew a submachine gun from

movements were

mowed down the ones in front, then spun to target those

of them, shot but not

she pulled out her samurai

leader, a bullet in his chest, crawled backward, his face ashen, begging,

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,

donned her wind goggles and pursued the remaining

gushed out as he fell, watching

witnessing her conjure a weapon out

he pleaded, "Don't come any

samurai sword, "You seemed pretty tough just

got Arcadia," he blurted out

didn't he have it? All these years, living worse than a dog-it wasn't

Arcadia, he'd be the one standing

voice gentle, "I was only going to give you

sword straight into his heart, several more times for good

those who sought death, Stella had

wide open in

lesson for Stella. The storm was dying down, and the likelihood of encountering others was

it wasn't Jasper who

food amidst the storm, the meekest lamb could turn

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