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.

out a sleek, multifunctional sofa from Arcadia, which could serve as a sofa during

that could be found at furniture fairs were no joke - stylish

electricity, but the sofa came with

added a small round table and a few fabric stools, creating a

far better than most survivors

dock could accommodate 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,

they could quickly move

a blind eye to this

with no

housing was available, but it was

room each. Renting additional rooms in exchange for extra rations was out of the

sofa and set up a single bed

The sound of waves crashing against the giant drilling columns and

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

on her face, dazzling

were carrying buckets or basins downstairs, lining up

buckets from Arcadia. Rosie stayed

looked gaunt, their faces pale and haggard. It was the flesh on their bones, not their faces, that caught the eye. The pair stood out among the crowd,

its drawbacks; it felt like being on

it was finally their turn

was well filtered, with the salty brine taste

people drinking

the buckets upstairs, she found a woman in

hanging loosely, patched up in

the hallway, her words sharp and aggressive, "Which jerk knocked over my potato

on room 370's door,

door, we had to move it

around, her gaunt face fierce and

lash out but froze

low profile, "Sorry, I accidentally

her expression shifting to one