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.

to have found a solid reason to

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 Griffith. Stella only knew

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

agreed. They'd set it up for the

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 with regular practice. Monkey, all smiles, appreciated his wife's increasing kindness. He eagerly accepted the dinner invite, pondering what

to work an extra half-shift, they decided to push the gathering to the evening. Ten years post-disaster, there was no hope for hot pot seasonings. The submarine had an

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

smoked meat

Stella dared not

he wasn't

for a similar piece from Arcadia, Stella had prepared 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 and salted fish were

following 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

since shed any pretense of

That was his sister

to labor, his inherent pride persisted. Bran respected only those stronger than him, 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

eyebrow, 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

was in earning cash. Bran's mood instantly lifted. "If you're gonna flatter me, lay it

stir-fried with smoked meat, steamed salted fish with fermented black beans, and