Chapter 508

Mark's gaunt and aged features were still unmistakable, and Stella recognized him immediately, despite the toll time had taken on his appearance. Her face stayed calm, but inside, her emotions churned.

The apocalypse had honed its butcher's knife to a deadly sharpness. She remembered Mark as a scholarly gentleman with an air of easy grace, even as the world crumbled around them. He'd risen from being the manager of Eastwood Eden to the deputy mayor of Griffith. Time had weathered his face but refined his presence. Now, he looked like a withered old man. He was so thin it seemed a gust from the Arctic could topple him.

Stella's emotions were a tangled mix, but her expression was composed. After Ivans introduced them, she wore the appropriate face of a familiar hometown greeting. "What a coincidence, to meet a fellow Griffith native here."

After exchanging pleasantries, Ivans got everyone to work. They brought wooden stakes and steel materials salvaged from the transport ship to expand the ice hut. First, they selected a spot and packed the snow tightly. Then they used sharp knives and saws to cut large blocks of snow, stacking them one by one.

Concerned about the vegetable supply, Ivans was particularly invested in the ice hut. "Ginger, it'll take a long time for the snow blocks to freeze solid. We need to find a way to melt some snow." So, Stella, accompanied by Rosie, went outside to gather snow and boiled it before carrying it out in wooden barrels. Ivans gently ladled the hot water over the snow blocks. In the subzero temperatures, the snow and water quickly merged and froze, increasing in hardness.

a hearty swig of vodka. Stella cracked

with greens, Ivans bit into the crocodile

no blessing in this harsh world. With more survivors arriving at the Arctic, and the Russians following in their predecessors' footsteps, recruiting more and more to their ranks, the majority of survivors were male. What if carnal thoughts about Rosie arose? So, Rosie stayed out of sight as much as possible, bundled up so only her eyes were

the stability of the snow blocks was a concern. "Trust my skills, Ginger. It's guaranteed to be

Mark or the others, bidding them farewell with impartial politeness, "Stay safe on your way." Ivans waved, "Ginger, Ho, happy New Year."

quickly returned to a numb, vacant expression.

a snowmobile

blankly, Ivans mused, "Ho, are you afraid of us?" Mark came to, "Before the disaster, our countries were very friendly. You saved us from Union Base, we're grateful, not afraid." Ivans smirked cunningly, "But I can't shake the feeling you're still afraid of

am afraid," Mark admitted without hesitation, "Not of you specifically, but of all survivors. The apocalypse devours humanity. I've seen unspeakable acts, all driven by desperation. If there was a choice, no one would willingly do such things, but reality forces their hand. Today's angel could be tomorrow's demon, so fear is instinctual." Mark looked calmly

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