18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 462

Her question hit him like a punch to the gut, but Bran answered honestly, "Construction. Hauling bricks."

Stella sized him up, noting the scars on his face and hands-evidence of a hard-fought survival. In the face of natural disasters, everyone was equal, even a tycoon's son.

She didn't pry about his life since they'd parted ways. Even if recounted with a smile, the tales were likely steeped in brutal truths.

"How about we treat you to a meal when you're off?" she offered.

At the mention of food, Bran's eyes lit up. "Barbecue?"

"You wish. After all these years of disasters, and you're still dreaming of a feast?" Despite her words, the joy of reunion was undeniable. "Rosie's been working at the plantation. I'll see if I can scrounge up some spices so you can indulge a bit." Bran perked up. "How are Rosie and your hubby doing?"

She gave him her address. "Doing alright. Swing by when you're free."

Bran lived in Area C and spoke his mind. "Sis, I'm free on the weekend."

Alright then. A weekend it is. They'd have themselves a proper bash.

He seemed to have found a solid reason to keep living. He no longer ran away from familiar faces out of shame. There he was, half a month in, already hauling

Naval Station now housed over twenty thousand souls, with a hospital, a salt plant, a food factory, water purification, and plantations all operational. Life was still tough, but better than before. Of the two thousand plus from South Base, even fewer were from

pretty good. Jasper suggested, "How

set it up for

she'd mastered some massage techniques, benefiting her son and husband's health with regular practice. Monkey, all smiles,

evening. Ten years post-disaster, there was no hope for hot pot seasonings. The submarine had an air extraction system, and Stella

greens, while Monkey, with a sly grin, produced a slab of smoked meat. "Sis, this is the good stuff. Took me ages

meat

but Stella dared not

wasn't

from the plantation where Rosie worked, ensuring they had what they needed. The

and even pitched in with the prep. Miranda and her son picked the veggies on the side, the

arrived last, bringing a pound of fish cakes. He had long since shed any pretense of dignity,

That was his sister there. Bran

like Stella and Jasper, who had seen his countless humiliations. In front of them, he could forgo pride, but that didn't mean others could disregard him. Especially not someone like Monkey, a mere trader, even though Austin himself had to handle him

though his tone was much more restrained than in his former high-class neighborhood. Monkey, seasoned in business, treated everyone like a client, always leaving room for face-saving. Unbothered by Bran's attitude, Monkey chuckled, "Looks

in earning cash. Bran's mood instantly lifted. "If you're gonna flatter me, lay it on thick." It had been ages since anyone had praised him.

chef, with bell peppers stir-fried with smoked meat, steamed salted fish with fermented black beans, and garlic chili