18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 584

Jake was practically worshipping the ground Stella walked on for her "extraordinary abilities." "Stella, why don't we go scouting for oil reserves in other countries? Maybe we can strike it lucky again."

"Think it's that easy to strike gold?" Amelia rolled her eyes at him. "The lands sunk a decade ago. The oil's been sucked dry, buddy. We just got lucky this time."

Stella couldn't help but giggle. "If you guys thought of it, you can bet the brass at HQ are already on it."

The higher-ups had dispatched a fleet of submarines with a three-fold mission: first, to gauge the depths of the sunken Kindle Chests that were beyond salvage; second, to scout for undiscovered chests; and third, to secure any potential resources. Anything salvageable had to be reported back.

This plan would significantly cut down on the work for the special salvage team.

The initiative had been in motion for half a year, and it was likely nearing completion.

"Who needs oil when there are countless Kindle Chests waiting for Stella's touch?"

Stella was used to their reverence by now.

The mission wrapped up, and the crew headed back in their nuclear submarine.

They hadn't traveled far when alarms blared—a massive submarine was barreling toward them.

The other vessel approached with reckless speed, and had they not dodged in time, a head-on collision would have been imminent.

The crew bristled with tension. "Who the heck is looking for an early grave?"

They all had long lives ahead of them, thank you very much.

But after the other sub turned around, it charged back toward them.

This was getting under their skin.

Their submarine issued a warning and readied for attack.

Missile silos opened.

Just as they were locked and loaded, the other sub halted its advance.

It seemed to lose its nerve.

After a tense wait, the other vessel signaled for a surface meeting.

Well, that was cocky. Stella was curious to see who dared such bravado.

The two leviathan subs began their ascent...

Case closed, folks!

There aren't many with the gall to strut around in nuclear subs.

China!

Stella was intrigued. What was China's deal?

Sure enough, once on the surface, the Chinese crew said pompously, "What are you doing here?"

Bad luck. The rabbits weren't extinct after all.

Stella wasn't about to coddle them. "None of your business."

Used to lording over others, the Chinese delegation was visibly taken aback by the blunt retort.

They cleared their throats. "Did you find oil?"

"What oil?" Stella parried.

Turns out China was also after the oil and had the brains to approach Camelot, the oil nation. Not too shabby.

Too bad they were half a year late.

China didn't want the rabbits to know their mission and blustered, "This sea is ours now. Leave immediately or we won't be nice."

Stella was curious. "And how do you plan to be 'not nice'?"

They all had attack subs, fully equipped.

She smirked. "Don't tell us you're talking from a position of power. That doesn't work on us!"

China fumed and started showing off their muscles.

Mortars, shoulder-launched missiles, sting missiles.

Stella's crew couldn't help but laugh. "As if we don't have those."

The special salvage team had unique weapons, including something China lacked—an electromagnetic railgun.

The whole world knew China didn't have it, or if they did, it was far behind.

Whether the base's equipment was legit or actually effective, that was a different story.

As expected, the sight of the railgun turned the Chinese pale.

Swindlers, all of them!

As beneficiaries, they didn't dig too deep, but that didn't mean they'd never dig—so Stella wouldn't hand them any ammunition.

Now was the time to bring out the medical supplies—because it was time.

The farms and hatcheries were expanding rapidly, and poultry and eggs were soon to hit the market, albeit with a catch.

Discounts were offered first to women of childbearing age.

Daniel, ever the strategist, was still on mission—propagation.

Without humanity, civilization meant nothing.

As the base stabilized, the next critical mission was the continuation of the species—reproduction.

When catastrophe struck, Stella's generation was just reaching childbearing age, and they were the most likely to survive.

After twelve years of apocalypse, their health had deteriorated, but they remained the female survivors with the best chance of bearing children.

The base strategized: resources and medical aid were prioritized for them.

It all came down to one thing—ensuring the flame of humanity was passed on.

Stella had been adrift on the open sea, oblivious to the news that had been circulating back at the base. The word was that the base would go to great lengths to ensure the women's health was in tip-top shape, laying the groundwork for the upcoming fertility plans.

Of course, everything hinged on the women's consent—the base had no intention of pressuring anyone.

But Stella had bigger fish to fry, because trouble was brewing once more.

Their submarine had picked up a tail—a persistent one at that.

Damn it, it was China.

Those sneaky bastards had been dogging their trail the whole time.

It was highly likely that they hadn't sniffed out the refinery, and now they were suspicious of Stella and her crew. So, they were shadowing them quietly, hoping to pinpoint Griffith's coordinates.

China had a reputation for flexing its firepower, an almost predatory instinct in its marrow.

Sure, they had played a game of cat and mouse with a fake China outpost in the Arctic, raiding their armory. But it was a safe bet that China had more than just those scraps to its name.

What if they were armed to the teeth and looking to take a shot at Griffith?

The Kindle Society was a mixed bag of roles and expertise, and in comparison with the formidable Ocean Point Naval Station, South Base didn't pack much of a punch in terms of combat weaponry.

They couldn't risk it, and they sure as hell couldn't let China get a bead on Griffith's location.