18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 522

Chapter 522

Rosie was the embodiment of diligence, faithfully watering her fledgling garden

twice a day. Yet despite her efforts, more than half of the grass and trees withered away within days. The scorching heat and lack of water were concerns, but the real enemy was the soil itself.

Stella was no agro-scientist, yet her optimism remained unshaken. "Don't worry, we've still got half left," she said with a reassuring smile.

The sound of hailstones relentlessly pummeling the RV was like a relentless drumbeat. There was only one home-a precious sanctuary-that Stella cherished dearly, and she swiftly ushered everyone inside Arcadia for shelter.

After a couple of hours, they emerged to find the hail mostly melted away. But the storm took another third of the plant life with it. It wasn't the impact that killed them, but rather their inability to adapt during their transplanting phase, as they faced the relentless assault of extreme weather. Even humans would struggle under such conditions.

Stubborn as ever, she refused to give up. Once every plant had perished, she planted a fresh batch. This time, she learned from experience. Instead of

was pitiful-a sad, wilted sight that seemed on the brink of giving up the ghost. The dandelion seeds in both patches struggled to sprout, and mysterious deaths were common. Stella's confidence took a hit

Jasper was the picture of patience, poring over books and resources. "Arcadia is home to mulberry trees, cypress, winter squash, and wheat. They're ideal for saline-alkaline soil. We should

was a mystery-whether it had been land before or part of the seabed. The soil wasn't saline, and the alkalinity levels seemed manageable. Stella could afford the setbacks thanks to her

pups persevered, regaining their vigor despite the initial shock to their systems. On mild mornings and evenings, the canine couple would race across the

had stabilized, over a month had passed. At sunset, the two would stroll along the beach. Stella

mused, "It's possible." The rock that was once at the sea's edge was now over 50 meters inland. Neither of them were geologists, so whether it was the mountain

environment was harsh, but as long

hint of green. A single weed. It was only half an inch tall, but the moist seaside air had nourished it well. It likely sprouted from the seeds they had scattered on the mountains, carried to the shore by the wind. That single plant lifted Stella's spirits, and that night they feasted heartily. Life had

wanted to know where it ended. But hiking was tough; just half an hour of uphill and downhill sapped their strength. So, they brought out the Plunderer. Cutting through

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