18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



Stella glanced up and saw a gaunt woman standing across the fence. Her sallow face was marked with several nasty scars, and she walked with a pronounced limp.

She was so thin that her eyes appeared abnormally large, staring intently at Stella, who was wearing a face mask.

Stella frowned, wondering who this could be.

"Stella, is that really you?" The woman clutched the fence tightly, her voice a mix of emotions. "It's me, your mother."

Stella nearly choked.

Lillian? She was unrecognizable.

Her emaciated frame made the scars on her face look even more grotesque, and her body bore several lumps and bruises. Her clothes were tattered and worn.

It was obvious, even at a glance, that she had fallen on hard times.

She seemed on the verge of collapse, like a camel about to buckle under the weight of its burden. Yet, when she saw Stella, her eyes sparkled with a plea. "Stella, I'm your mother. I gave you life. You have to save me... save me..."

Lillian had always been a clinging vine, dependent on men to survive. Eventually, Daniel had her transferred to the Goldbridge official facility. Stella had imagined a grim existence for her...

And it seemed her life had indeed been rather grim.

But one had to admit, her vitality was stubborn.

However, Stella wasn't interested in Lillian's miseries, nor did she harbor much satisfaction or resentment in her heart.

Looking at the unrecognizable Lillian, Stella was as calm as if she were facing a stranger.

What did it matter that she had given her life? It wasn't out of Lillian's desire, but necessity.

Her own upbringing had been far from joyful. Only after meeting Jasper did she feel warmth.

For a woman so selfish she contemplated murder to keep her lies from being exposed, Stella thought it was already generous of her not to take her life.

Now, it was fine this way; to live on, living in pain, and hopefully, for a very long time.

With a stoic expression, Stella said, "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken."

Collin, although surprised, didn't inquire further but instead told the nearby soldier, "The patient is too agitated for questioning. Take her away, please."

Lillian, in her agitation, desperately resisted and tried to lunge at Stella, aiming to scratch and bite the soldiers.

The soldiers, clad in their protective gear, effortlessly subdued her and dragged her away.

Lillian shouted in distress, "Stella, you will not die a good death!"

Stella assured her, "Ma'am, though I don't know you, I promise to live very well, certainly better than you."This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Leaving the examination room and noting the early hour, Collin went to inspect other areas.

Area F had several activity zones where patients with milder conditions and stable emotions were allowed to exercise, assisted by counselors to help them regulate their feelings.

As they walked, a commotion suddenly erupted ahead.

A survivor had become violent and began to beat another survivor mercilessly.

Soldiers quickly intervened, separating the aggressor and confining them to an isolation area.

Stella had a vague idea of how Lillian might have gotten her injuries.

Compared to other patients, Lillian's condition wasn't severe, but she had always lived by clinging to others, making it difficult for her to survive in such harsh conditions.

For someone like her, life was the greatest torment, yet she lacked the courage to end it.

So, she would suffer slowly.

After her shift in Area B, Stella chose not to mention her encounter with Lillian to Jasper.

There was no need.

There was a shortage of medical staff and an even greater scarcity of medicines. Limited resources had to be allocated where they were most needed.

Even in times of abundant medical resources, breakthroughs for this kind of mutation were rare, let alone in a post-disaster world.

Stella didn't support the research on this subject, but she didn't oppose the decision from above either; she simply didn't follow up.

Life went on, and the variety of herbs in the plantation grew.

Following the success of extracting the toxic glands from the yellow croaker and ribbonfish, ensuring they were safe to eat after

prolonged high-temperature baking, the edible sea fish greatly alleviated the shortage of supplies.

Though still scarce, survivors no longer fought over a scrap of food, and gaunt faces began to flesh out.

Smiles started to bloom again.

Stella was napping in her dormitory when a nurse's knock abruptly woke her. "Dr. Jiang, there's a trauma case."

The steel-paneled rooms weren't

soundproof, and with the two of them alone, it had been a long time since they had a chance for an intimate conversation. Now was the perfect moment... Content belongs

Stella pushed Jasper away, got dressed, and headed out. "I need to perform surgery."

It was the usual construction site injury, and this time it was a soldier, soaked in blood and brought in by his comrades.

As Stella donned her mask and headed to the operating room, her tone was clipped and professional. "Bring the patient in, and everyone else wait outside."

"Big sis?"

Stella felt a tug at her arm.

She turned instinctively to see a man in worn military garb looking at her with eager anticipation.

Stella's brows knitted together. Who could this be?

"Big sis, it's me."

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but the man's face was so gaunt it was unrecognizable.

With a look of hurt, the man said, "Am I really so insignificant to you, sis?"

Staring at the man's face, Stella's mind thundered.

After ten years of disaster, Stella had met quite a few people, but not many who called her 'big sis' with such familiarity.

Aside from Monkey, there was only... Bran!

Holy moly, this was hardly the dapper Bran Porras, who used to strut around in his flannel shirt and capris, a bright young thing from the Porras

family.

Dark circles under his eyes, cheeks hollowed to the bone, his uniform patched...

Sorry, but she truly hadn't recognized him.

Stella quickly regained her composure. "Wait a moment, I need to suture this patient."

After more than half an hour, she finished treating the emergency trauma case.

Stepping out of the OR, Stella

advised the soldier's comrades. "He

needs rest due to significant blood

loss, and he must replenish

nutrients. Try to improve his diet if possible."

The others took the patient to be admitted while Bran and Stella were left standing in the hallway, separated by an awkward silence.

Stella looked almost unchanged, whereas Bran would be hard-pressed to be recognized by his own father.

Once the golden boy heir to a fortune, Bran had been the toast of the town, courted by socialites and rich kids alike.

Even after years of disaster, he remained a figure of envy in the gated communities.

Until the Kindle Society, when he clawed his way out of a pile of corpses... Bran covered his face. Why did he always look so wretched whenever he met her?

Stella, nonchalant as ever, took the initiative to greet him. "When did you get here?"

"About a half month ago."

"What are you doing now?"