18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 620

Without the constant support of our specialized salvage team, forget about progress; even keeping our heads above water would be tough.

Nicholas felt like the policy was aimed directly at him, almost as if Daniel had crafted it personally to make his life difficult. Yet, Daniel had seamlessly expanded to six new cities, leaving no room for criticism.

Stella admitted she'd picked up a thing or two.

Daniel had indeed pulled off a masterstroke.

For the base to grow, expansion was inevitable. And since Nicholas fancied himself a visionary, it was time for him and his crew to step out and face the world, rather than brewing conspiracy theories back in Griffith.

Nicholas aimed to make his mark through development and earn the respect he desired. If scheming was his thing, then tough luck—Daniel controlled the resources, doling them out meticulously. A smart move left Nicholas floundering, making everyone wonder what all his bravado was about.

The square buzzed with life under the twinkling lights, people packed in every direction. It had been ages since anyone had seen a movie, and now, no one could tear their eyes away from the screen, fearing that a blink might shatter the dream.

As Stella watched the crowd, she reminisced about the bustling New Year's celebrations in the newly settled areas, remembering the photos she took of Rosie and Dylan, which were still saved on her phone.

The crowd was too thick to spot Rosie and Poppy.

They crossed the square toward the government compound, a place Stella was visiting for the first time. The compound was a collection of single-story redbrick houses, each with its own tiny yard. Inside, faint light spilled out along with the sound of conversation.

Evan was there, too. The two were managing a modest New Year's Eve dinner, delayed because Evan had to ensure order at the square for Mark's holiday address.

The table, lit by kerosene lamps, was spread with fish cakes, stewed chicken, and sautéed greens—simple yet comforting.

Stella's visit was expected, though her arrival on New Year's Eve was a surprise.

Mark greeted them with a smile, "Have you eaten? Care to try Evan's cooking?"

Stella nodded eagerly, "Not everyone gets to savor Evan's culinary skills. We must try."

Despite his high status, Mark's place was pretty bare. You'd think he'd have enough tableware for a meal. Luckily, Stella came prepared, pulling out four military mess tins from her bag, "These are from the Arctic, leftovers from a Chinese shipment. Make do with these."

Evan was unabashed, quipping, "Thanks to you, I've got a bowl to fill again."

"It's more than just a bowl," Stella added, producing two army canteens, one for each of them, along with a pack of roasted peanuts and a bottle of worn, label-less baijiu, "Here, consider it an extra dish."

The strong liquor was hard to resist. Even Mark, who seldom drank, was tempted. Stella had thought of everything, even cups, as she poured for Mark and Evan, "To two of the people's finest servants."

Some things were better left unsaid, shared instead through the warmth of a drink. With the ice broken by a couple of rounds, Stella kept pouring, "Try these peanuts I fried myself."

The compound was unlit save for the kerosene lamps, revealing Evan's graying temples. Not only Mark had aged; time had caught up with Evan, too. Both, without families, tirelessly devoted to their world.

"Mark, Evan, since Jasper and I are often away, if you need anything, reach out to Bran or Rosie," Stella offered.

Mark was buoyant, "No real troubles. Compared to drifting at sea or wandering the Arctic, this is luxury."

He smiled at Stella, "I believe in a few years, Griffith will be even better."

Evan toasted and drank deeply, "If heaven lends me another decade, I'll keep Griffith's lights shining bright."

"Don't be modest. Without your support, I couldn't handle all this," Stella acknowledged.

Evan raised his glass to Stella and Jasper, "Here's to your salvage team. Without you, we couldn't keep this place running."

The flattery went full circle. Having skipped dinner, the two felt the effects of the alcohol quickly and wished each other an early Happy New Year. Before leaving, Stella pulled out two boxes of tea, rock sugar, canned goods, and a pair of warm cloth shoes from her bag as New Year gifts. Mark saw them off.

Back at the house, Daniel had already returned next door. Stella rummaged through Arcadia, setting aside new clothes for everyone, insisting Jasper try his on immediately.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

Indeed, his confidence was unshakable, enough to make Stella blush even after all these years.

She made a special trip to deliver Daniel and Vanessa's gifts. The couple was still awake, one reading, the other knitting, a picture of peaceful longevity. Stella envied them, snapping a photo on her phone, hoping she and Jasper would share such harmony in their golden years.

Stella had gifted Vanessa the yarn, and with it, Vanessa decided to knit a sweater vest for Daniel.

By the time she returned home, Rosie had already come back from her date.

"Did you drop Poppy off?" Stella asked.

"Nope, she had other plans," Rosie replied casually.

Stella paused for a moment, taking a second to process the information. "You don't need to worry about her, you know. Uncle Ron is the head of the secretarial division at the defense department. Nobody would dare to bother Poppy."

The truth was, there were plenty of guys interested in Rosie, and many of them were quite the catch. But she wasn't interested; she'd rather slip away early than deal with them.

Stella's brow furrowed slightly, and after a moment's thought, she said, "Rosie, if you ever meet someone who ticks all the boxes and truly captivates your heart, you should consider taking your time to get to know them. But don't rush into marriage. Time will reveal the truest answer."

Rosie's response was firm. "Sis, I'm not even thinking in that direction."

"Mm, if that's the case, keep your distance from those guys, especially the ones eyeing Poppy."