Chloe ignored the hungry, predatory eyes all around her.
She sat there and didn’t budge.
Actual supplies were worth the most in the apocalypse.
Soon, Chloe’s little stall drew a crowd of refugees, cramming the place shoulder to shoulder.
Bertha stood nearby, swallowing hard, her beady eyes never leaving the food in front of Chloe.
She called out, “Hey there. Are you selling those muffins? Need any charcoal?”
Chloe gave the grimy, black charcoal a disinterested glance and shook her head.
“I only want emeralds or cores. Nothing else for trade,” Chloe replied.
The ordinary survivors‘ faces fell as soon as they heard that.
But the powered humans pushed to the front, eager to ask about the prices.
“Hey, young lady, how much for your stuff?” one of the powered humans called out.
气15%准
35 vouchers
Chloe flashed a smile and said, “Five level–one cores for a bread, eight level–one cores for a muffin, and if you want beef stew, that’ll cost you a level–two core.”
With mutants and zombies crawling all over out there, anyone with some real skills could score some cores.
Chloe didn’t even bring up level–three cores. There probably weren’t many to go around in the whole base.
And even if there were, they’d all be stashed away by the higher–ups at the base.
Those prices immediately turned many people away.
With just one core, they could get a whole stack of grass cakes. Sure, those things scratched up one’s throat, but at least they kept one from starving.
Real food from before the apocalypse was tempting, but it cost way too many cores. No one wanted to blow that much on
them.
As soon as one crowd left, another rolled in.
This batch of powered humans looked like they weren’t pushovers.
Once the food was set out, the steam faded fast. If it sat too long it’d freeze up and turn into a rock. No one would want to eat that.
A man handed over five cores and said, “I’ll take one bread.”
A woman tugged his hand and whispered, “Are you nuts? Something this pricey, we’ll end up staring at it at home instead of eating it.”
The man smiled fondly and said, “Our girl hasn’t tasted bread in forever. Let’s let her enjoy it for once,”
He really wanted to get a muffin. But after feeling around in his pocket, he could only shake his head in disappointment,
Chloe pulled out a sheet of wax paper from her backpack and wrapped the bread up snugly.
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Chapter 136
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35 vouchers
She reminded, “Eat it as soon as you get home. If it freezes, it’ll turn hard as a rock and be tough to bite into. The taste won’t be the same.”
In times like these, there was no way to steam the bread again.
The man nodded, holding the bread close to his chest to keep it warm.
He took his wife’s hand and hurried off.
Clutching a knife in one hand, his broad, imposing figure made him look fierce.
Even so, he still drew the attention of some desperate, hungry refugees who started tailing him.
An old man, unsteady on his feet, got shoved to the front and nearly toppled over. If Chloe’s family hadn’t reached out to steady him, he would’ve gone down hard.
The old man looked flustered. He said, “I have an emerald. Is it enough to trade for half a bread?”
Beside him, a little kid, maybe four or five, stepped out. He was filthy from head to toe, and his eyes were the only thing that seemed clean, bright, and full of life.
He kept gulping as he stared at the muffins on the stall.
Chloe nodded for the old man to take out the emerald.
The old man fished the emerald out from inside his coat, his weathered, trembling hands stretching it toward her.
Hope shone in his eyes.
He said, “This emerald was the keepsake between my wife and me back in the day. Do you think it’s enough for half a bread?”
Chloe took a look and realized it was a really fine emerald. Shielding her actions with her backpack, she slipped the emerald into her spiritual space and could almost feel the space humming with happiness.
Chloe reached out and grabbed two muffins. “You can trade this for two muffins,” she told the old man.
The old man broke into a wide grin, rubbing his grimy hands together before carefully accepting the two muffins. He tucked one safely inside his coat and, with trembling hands, handed the other to his grandson.
The old man said, “Eat up,
sweetheart.”
The little guy chomped down on half the muffin, his eyes lighting up as he looked up at the old man.
He asked, “Grandpa, this muffin smells amazing. Why aren’t you eating?”
The kid stared at his grandpa, puzzled.
The old man replied, “I am not hungry yet. I’ll eat it later.”
The little guy puffed out his cheeks and stopped chewing. He said, “Grandpa, you’re fibbing. You said the same thing yesterday with those grass cakes, but you didn’t eat anything at all!”
“Don’t worry, I snuck a bite while you were sleeping,” the old man replied softly, forcing a smile.
His voice was barely above a whisper, his gaze unfocused, and his whole body shaky.
Anyone could tell he hadn’t had a decent meal in forever.
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The two of them, one old, one young, couldn’t get any work at the base. All they could do was survive by picking through trash, and they couldn’t even afford the cheapest grass cake.
The old man’s eyes lingered with reluctance on the backpack, where the only memento from his wife was kept safe.
Before the apocalypse, that emerald could have sold for millions but now, it could only be traded for two muffins.
The old man thought, “The two muffins are likely given out of the stall owner’s generosity.
‘After all, in the apocalypse, things like emeralds have become practically worthless!
“If Grandpa’s not eating, then I’m not eating either,” the kid said stubbornly. Even though his stomach was rumbling like crazy, he just wouldn’t take a single bite.
The refugees nearby were getting impatient, some even looking a little desperate.
“Hey, kid, you gonna eat that or not? If you don’t want it, I’ll take it!” one of them shouted, eyeing the meat bun hungrily.
Finally, someone couldn’t hold back anymore. He lunged for the muffins, mouth open and ready to snatch it, only to be knocked flat by a sudden blast of wind out of nowhere.
Chloe slammed her hand down on the wooden board and barked, “No troublemaking on my turf!”
That move scared the hell out of the refugees nearby.
Even Bertha shrank back. She thought, ‘So she’s a powered human? No wonder her clothes are so clean, and she’s got extra muffins just lying around.”
The old man knew he couldn’t keep the bread hidden for long, so he quickly traded the bread at a nearby stall for fifty grass cakes and a bunch of ice blocks.
The ice blocks were made by water–powered humans, who froze water and piled the blocks up at the stall.
And those grass cakes? They were the kind of food only the poorest folks ate. As the name suggested, it was just grass crushed up and pressed into patties.
At least the grass was clean and hadn’t been contaminated. Otherwise, no one would touch the stuff.
In barely a minute, Chloe’s stall was wiped out: every last bite gone.
Chloe called out to the crowd with a bright smile, “I’ll be back tomorrow with even more variety. Don’t miss it. Come back for more!”
When everyone heard she’d be back tomorrow, the whole place lit up with excitement.
“Wait, for real? You’re actually trading emeralds for bread?” someone blurted out, disbelief written all over his face.
People couldn’t wrap their heads around it. After the apocalypse emeralds were basically trash; nobody wanted them.
They thought, ‘Seriously? Someone’s actually trading bread for junk?‘
Chloe nodded earnestly, making it clear she meant every word.
“Absolutely. If you bring me top–notch emeralds, I’ll trade for them at a great price,” she promised.
The crowd was getting stirred up, excitement running high.
Even the ordinary folks without any powers were itching to join in, eager to get their hands on some emeralds.
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Chapter 136
参会15%曲?
23 65 vouchers
“Damn. I’m heading out to look for emeralds today!” someone from the crowd shouted, barely able to contain their excitement.
The area around Bluchaven Base had already been swept clean by the military: no zombies or mutants left in sight.
But that also meant all the supplies had been stripped bare, leaving nothing but useless junk behind.
AD
