Chapter 402 The Bottom Floor


    Chapter 402 The Bottom Floor


    Ding<i>! </i>


    With a soft chime, the elevator doors slid open. They had arrived on the first floor.


    <b>+5 </b>Free Coins


    The lowest level of Ark Camp Three was where the ordinary residents lived. It was divided into two main sections: the residential zone and the production zone. Roughly 15 thousand people lived here.


    It was the most densely popted area with the smallest living spaces. Residents also bore the heaviest and most basicbor–growing crops through hydroponics, raising small livestock, producing fabric, repairing equipment, hauling waste–nothing but the most menial work.


    On the second floor, the work was lighter–secondary processing, energy supply, and the like. Above that came technological development and virus research.


    The top two floors required no work at all. On the fourth floor, residents‘ only job was to serve those on the fifth, providing them with music, dance, and entertainment.


    “The first floor’s the very bottom of their camp,” Morgan said as they stepped out of the elevator. “Not much worth seeing.”


    It was dinnertime, and the residents were lining up at the canteen. That night’s meal was considered good -each person got a bread roll and a bowl of vegetable soup.


    The soup had been boiled with the same water countless times. It held no trace of oil, only unidentifiable scraps sinking to the bottom. Still, people carried it off happily.


    “Do the ordinary folks in Kl Camp get meals like this?” Morgan nced at a passing resident’s bowl with lofty disdain.


    “No,” Theresa admitted, taking a slow breath. “Not even close.”


    Morgan gave her <i>a </i>look as if he had expected nothing less. “Say what you will about the Ark Camps, but for these lowborns, this is paradise.”


    Theresa said nothing.


    A sudden tter broke through their conversation. Ahead of them, someone’s soup bowl hit the ground.


    “Where’d you steal that meat from?!”


    Up in the corridor of a nearby housing block, a burly man in a manager’s uniform had caught the scent of something. He seized a scrawny boy by the cor and knocked the bowl from his hands.


    He reached into the boy’s thin clothes and pulled out a bundle from his waist. With a loud thud, the bundle hit the floor–spilling out golden–brown chicken legs, plump shrimp, and ribs glistening with cold, congealed fat.


    The sight of those ribs, their frosty white fat shining in the dim light, made onlookers‘ eyes turn hungry green. They looked ready to dive in, toss the meat into their thin soup for a quick boil, and lick everyst drop from the bowl. This was treasure.


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    O


    10:33 Fri, 22 Aug


    Chapter 402 The Bottom Floor


    The queue for food stilled. Every gaze locked on the scene.


    “I didn’t steal it! I found it!” the boy protested.


    “Lies! You think meat like this just turns up?” The manager struck him across the face.


    28%


    s


    Before the next blow could fall, a gaunt middle–aged man lunged forward, shielding the boy. The pnded squarely on his own bony back.


    <i>Smack</i>!


    “Dad!”


    The man crumpled to the ground under the force. The manager was a strength–type ability user, and the blow had rattled his lungs and heart. His face contorted in pain as he hit the floor.


    Still, he forced himself up, wincing, and addressed the man holding his struggling son. “Sir, we really found it. We work at the dump–this came from the garbage heap. We don’t go anywhere else, and we couldn’t steal food like this even if we tried. Please, let us go.”


    The manager’s fury cooled just slightly. “You hiding anything else?”


    “That’s all. We’ve got nothing else.” To prove it, the man stripped off his shirt and trousers until he stood there in just his underwear, holding his clothes up for inspection.


    The manager gave him a once–over. “There better not be a next time. Anything you find goes straight to me, or you won’t get off so easily, you little brat!”


    He shoved the boy aside, gathered the food from the ground, and walked off with it.


    “Dad! Dad!” The boy scrambled <i>to </i>his father’s side.


    “I’m fine. The man pulled his clothes back on, forcing a faint smile onto his pale face.


    Tears welled in the boy’s eyes. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t careful–they caught me.”


    “It’s not your fault,” the man said gently. “The manager’s nose is too sharp.”


    “But…” The boy’s gaze shifted to where the food had fallen moments ago. A crowd had already descended, some licking the floor, others using their bread to scrape up every trace of fat.