18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 446

Stella asked, "The sea's so deep, are they using a dredger?"

The site manager glanced over with a look of disinterest. "The specifics of how we're dredging don't concern you. Just focus on your work, grow your crops, and remember, we're all about community and support here at the base. Don't worry about how things run behind the scenes."

Too many nosy folks cause unnecessary trouble; best to keep your head down, feed your belly first, and pour your energy into this fresh start.

The base had a mountain of challenges to overcome, what use was it explaining to the survivors who couldn't help anyway?

Stella decided to keep her mouth shut and climbed the stairs to the third floor with her keys in hand.

Residential Area B was among the first to be completed. Active-duty military personnel occupied zones 1-3, while zone 4 housed the civilian survivors.

No matter which Kindle Society you belonged to before, at Hope Point, if you were willing to serve the people, you had to fall in line with the new arrangements.

With over 12,000 survivors, the majority were military. The rest were from well-established official bases, with only a handful of solitary fighters making it through.

The soldiers were busy working, rarely at home during the day, and some who went to sea might not return for weeks at a time. As a result, Area B was relatively quiet and uncluttered. Civilian survivors even took over private garden plots in zones 1-3, trying to grow more food.

Stella reached room 370, where someone had already placed a planter by the door.

She nudged it aside with her foot and stepped out.

The container-like room was small, about 1.5 meters wide and 2.5 meters long, with nothing but a ventilation window in the upper right corner.

The pleasant surprise was that the rooms were separated by movable steel panels, with sliding bolts on both sides. If both parties agreed, the panels could be shifted.

By combining three rooms into one, you'd get a 2.5 by 4.5-meter space, suddenly boasting around ten square meters, much less claustrophobic.

The steel was thick, making noise when moved, but it felt stable and safe to walk on. Thankfully it wasn't peak summer; otherwise, the metal rooms would turn into ovens. Jasper let Cooper, his loyal dog, out of his crate and reminded him not to bark.

After nearly a decade of working together, Cooper understood and wagged his tail excitedly.

The newly built rooms hadn't been used yet, so after resting for a moment, they began to clean up.

sleek, multifunctional sofa from Arcadia, which could serve as a sofa during the day and unfold into a bed

of such furniture that could be found

had no running water or electricity, but the sofa came

small round table and a few fabric stools, creating a

but far better than most survivors had

ships, and survivors from the same base naturally stuck together. Many were in poor health and unable to work for their keep, feeling they could never pay off their rent, so they chose to live on the ships to save money. While the

they could quickly move

base turned a blind eye to this arrangement,

was standardized, with no visible wealth

available, but it was allocated based

Renting additional rooms in

around, Stella unfolded the sofa and set up a single bed for

rooms weren't particularly soundproof. The sound of waves crashing against the giant drilling columns and the occasional conversation from outside

until five, Stella opened the door to get some air in

her face, dazzling

carrying buckets or basins downstairs, lining up to fetch

room, Stella took two wooden buckets from Arcadia. Rosie stayed with the dog while she and Jasper

not by beauty but by their health - everyone looked gaunt, their faces pale and haggard. It was the flesh on their

its drawbacks; it felt

for half an hour, it was finally their turn to fill

well filtered, with the salty brine taste much reduced, almost odorless

people drinking it straight from

the buckets upstairs, she found a woman in a red

dress hanging

knife and glared at the overturned planter in the hallway, her words sharp and aggressive, "Which

370's door, brandishing the knife as if

displeased, "Your planter was blocking my door, we had to move it aside to

woman turned around, her gaunt face fierce

lash out but froze in shock upon seeing

low profile, "Sorry, I accidentally knocked over the planter

knife, her expression shifting to one of delighted surprise,