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.

trash. 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,

work, Stella mentioned Bran to Jasper. Ocean Point 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

people needed emotional ties and interactions. Planning a meal together sounded pretty good. Jasper suggested,

set it up

had harvested potatoes twice and even sold some fast-growing herbs she'd propagated. After consulting with Stella a few times, she'd mastered some massage techniques, benefiting her son and husband's health

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

with a sly grin, produced a slab of smoked

meat

but Stella dared

he wasn't

leeks, mustard greens, bell peppers, and chilies-plants readily available from the plantation where Rosie worked, ensuring they had what they needed. The smoked sausage

you means never going hungry." He was helpful and even pitched in with the prep. Miranda and her son picked the veggies on the side, the boy's eyes frequently darting to the chopping board,

had long since shed any pretense of dignity, choosing

shifted. That was his sister there. Bran raised

stronger than him, like Stella and Jasper, who had seen his countless humiliations. In front of them, he could forgo pride,

in his former high-class neighborhood. Monkey, seasoned in business, treated everyone like a client, always leaving

me, lay it on thick." It had been ages since anyone had praised him. Oh, how he missed his diamond-studded

in the hands of the junior chef, with bell peppers stir-fried with smoked meat, steamed salted fish with fermented black beans, and garlic chili sauce.