18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 517

Mark glanced at the soldier standing before him, searching his memory for any recognition. "Do we know each other?"

"I'm from the Porras family," Bran Porras replied, scanning the crowd hurriedly. He found no trace of his relatives, a profound sense of loss washing over him.

Mark's eyes widened slightly as the memory clicked. "Aren't you Hunter, the third son of the Porras family?"

Bran's hopeful expression dimmed, but he couldn't help but ask, "Deputy Mayor, have you seen my family in Goldbridge?"

Mark shook his head. "I haven't, but Goldbridge is a massive base. It housed over 300,000 people before the land sank. It's not unusual that you haven't run into them. We survived the Arctic; I'm sure your family is out there, too. You'll reunite one day."

Life is unpredictable, but hope keeps us going.

When Christian realized who the soldier was, his eyes lit up. He pushed through the crowd urgently. "It's an honor, sir. I'm Samuel's father. He used to work security in the new town's villa district. Have you seen him at Hope Point?"

Bran, somewhat comforted by Mark's words, chose his own carefully. "I haven't seen him, but Hope Point is huge, divided into more than a dozen residential areas. He could be in any one of them."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Bran steadied himself and got to work, verifying identities one by one.

Finding no issues, he directed them to queue for the boats and then transferred them onto the naval ships.

Next up were the 219 survivors on the ship. Despite Arthur's assurances, due process had to be followed.

Those with ID or some proof of identity were asked to present it for quicker processing.

The scene was chaotic. Many survivors were desperate. "The disaster was ten years ago! Who still has their papers? They were lost ages ago."

Arthur tried to calm the crowd. "Everyone, please, no need to panic. Just line up orderly. Even without documents, we can identify our fellow Australians."

Only a few had identification; the rest were grouped ten to a line, back to back. The evacuation routine kicked in-singing the national anthem.

Soldiers watched their lips closely while Deputy Captain Liao had Arthur and the ship's crew keep an eye out for unfamiliar faces.

Indeed, some couldn't finish the song.

They were asked about their nationality and region, and survivors who had already been cleared were called over for a local dialect check.

Most of those from the official Sichuan base were survivors from the same province, and even those from other provinces should have picked up some of the dialect after being confined together for so long.

The survivors on the ship had always moved in groups; it was rare for an imposter to slip in.

The real challenge came next. Deputy Captain Liao had learned from Peter that there were over 300 Australian survivors in the Arctic.

This number, provided by Russia, might not be exact.

The coastline was in turmoil, with daily casualties, and even Arthur couldn't provide an accurate count, estimating no more than 300 at best.

of three to

a few dozen were actual Australians. The rest were

were Australian and demanding

nationals, but they also

be exploited by those with malicious

of survivors to stay and assist, while

crowd was noisy and frantic, pushing against the human wall formed by the soldiers, trying to

masses to surge forward and

nearly trampled in the commotion, let his temper

"You really want to crowd yourselves to death?

eyes nearly popping out, stammered to

his throat. "Ahem, you'll

several other soldiers stepped

visible on their

crowd

Australian,

came forward without hesitation,

crowd, a good fifty meters apart,

silently reciting the national

taking in every expression. "Ready? And a broad river's

sang the

called for a halt.

but only seven or eight voices emerged,

those who had sung

not free from

would eventually pass one of

impostors, initially defiant, soon fell

approached them with a cold gaze, drawing his pistol. "Everyone, hands

don't blame my gun for

crowd complied, squatting with hands

it, they thought knowing the anthem would suffice, but

the tune and added extra questions

hell, Australians

Gangs of various shades,

$19

a figure stealthily drew a gun, eyeing crouched figures in the distance, their heads buried in their arms, contemplating a deadly strike. Misunderstandings sparked and tensions boiled over into

they had a mere

the fury of every survivor in the Arctic. Over three thousand people could

of eruption, a thunderous

shock etched on their faces as they witnessed more than twenty cannon muzzles