18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 303

A parent's love for their child involved profound planning. Starting from now, they intended to be like wolves, no longer indulging in spoiling their children. Even if it meant paying a significant price, they were determined to push them to grow up quickly.

The once pampered elite, who used to flit between Chanel boutiques and tea parties with delicate pastries, now found themselves doing the labor work, donning ragged clothes and feeding quails. They were even tasked with collecting eggs sullied with bird droppings—a disgusting affair.

Running laps, doing sit-ups, boxing, practicing martial arts—it was an intense regime that had the young heirs screaming in protest. Their parents, however, seemed invigorated by the change, urging them on with a fervor, "Train until you drop!"

The privileged youth were no match for the tenacity of Bran. Despite his lofty status and heritage, he still patrolled the streets, a testament to his skills and dedication.

No one improves without challenge, and the wealthy elite held Bran in high regard, eager for him to demonstrate his prowess to their coddled children.

Bran, never one to shy away from a challenge, threw down the gauntlet, "Who wants to try their luck against me?"

A dolled-up socialite stepped forward, her hand raised high, "Bran, may I?"

Hoping to hitch her star to the unmarried Bran and secure a life of luxury within the Porras family, she approached the stage with a flirtatious sway, "Please go easy on me, Bran."

But Bran was unfazed by her charms. With a swift motion, he caught her arm and executed a flawless judo throw, sending her crashing to the ground.

Stunned and humiliated, the socialite lay there, unable to even scream. "The nerve of him!" she thought, "He doesn't even know how to treat a lady!"

The crowd, fully aware of her intentions, could barely contain their laughter, leaving her father mortified.

Bran, often dismissed as the fool of the rich, proved his physical mettle time and time again. Wealthy folks often dabbled in diversions like sports cars, golf, tennis, clay pigeon shooting, and more—Bran was no exception, especially surrounded by a bevy of beauties.

The socialite, her pride wounded, burst into tears, "Bran, how could you..."

Bran replied, "I'd be glad to show you mercy, but I can't say the same for the thugs out there."

Embarrassed, she fled the scene.

Stella, too, grew restless confined at home and refused to let Jasper carry all the weight of their survival. She decided to take turns patrolling, allowing Jasper some respite.

The 12-hour shifts were grueling. After some negotiation, they agreed to split the duty—Jasper and Rosie for six hours, then Stella and Cooper taking over. This arrangement allowed both training and rest.

But Bran, that pest, kept bothering them with his idle propositions, "Stella, it's too cold for you to be out here. Let's go inside for some hot stew and a game of poker?"

Cooper, protective of Stella, bared his teeth. One step closer, and he'd bite.

The never-ending night wore on, and the survivors endured, some resorting to robbery and violence, others to despair and suicide, but most clung to hope, knowing that after darkness comes the dawn.

Then, Bran was kidnapped!