Rosie was chewing on a piece of dried orange peel, "I miss Mom and Dad, but I don't want to leave you guys."

Jasper held her close, "Be a good girl, listen to Stella, and stay awake."

The pounding on the outside door grew louder. The faces of the men barricading the storage room were twisted with rage, as if they were dealing with vile criminals.

Despite Jasper's attempts to block the door, it was still being kicked with a loud bang. The last thing a concussion patient needed was to be jostled. The door wouldn't hold much longer at this rate.

Stella lifted Rosie off the ground and peered through the small window opposite the door. The ground outside was littered with dense hailstones, and the hailstorm was starting to let up.

Hailstorms usually lasted for 2 to 10 minutes, rarely more than 30 minutes. It had been about 20 minutes since the storm began and it looked like it would stop soon.

The commotion outside the door grew fiercer. Stella, without hesitating, filled a bag with empty medicine bottles and handed out masks to everyone. She held Rosie close, protecting her head with her hands.

Just as several angry men were about to kick the door again, it swung open suddenly, nearly causing them to fall. They looked up to meet a pair of cold eyes and the barrel of a gun.

Jasper pressed the gun against one of the men's heads, his voice seething with suppressed rage, "Kick it again. I dare you."

The man, who was not hurt at all, was startled by Jasper's fierce gaze. He stuttered, "I... I'm injured. I just wanted some medicine. I didn't mean any harm."

Jasper took a step forward, causing the man to step back, "Don't... don't do anything rash. There are police officers here."

The crowd began to shout, "We're all injured! Give us some medicine!"

"The medicine's here, but there's not much left," Stella said, holding up the bag. She handed it to the man who'd been leading the kicking. "Here. If you want it, ask him."

After giving him the medicine, she quickly left with Rosie. With Jasper holding the gun, no one dared to stop them, preferring to keep a safe distance away.

The man, having received the medicine, barely had time to celebrate before others lunged at him, wanting to steal it.

Medicine was a hundred times more valuable than food or water in these times, often making the difference between life and death.

Seeing the man with the medicine, many people were envious. The first one to try to steal was quickly followed by others, creating a chaotic scene.

"Stop. stop it. The medicine's mine..." The man's angry voice was soon drowned out by the crowd.

When they had made it out of the chaotic lobby, the hailstorm had mostly stopped. An occasional hailstone would fall, but they were much smaller than before.

Many survivors, desperate for water, ran out with buckets to collect the melted ice.

The hot weather caused the hailstones to melt quickly. They raced against time, ignoring the danger. Some had been injured by the hailstones and were bleeding from the head, but they didn't care. They were just desperate to collect as much ice as possible. "We have water. We finally have water."

They didn't care that the hailstones were covered with dirt. They just kept stuffing them into their mouths.

In a world where drinking water was scarce, who cared about the dirt? All they cared about was survival.

Some plastic buckets had been smashed by the hailstones. Desperate, the survivors used cloth bags to plug the holes and continued to collect ice. Others had lost their buckets in the chaos and had resorted to stealing from others, resulting in fights. Several people lay dead on the community center playground. It was unclear whether they had been killed by the hailstones or trampled in the chaos.

The world was a cruel place. One moment, they were happily lining up for welfare benefits, thinking that with food and water, they could continue to survive. The next moment, disaster struck, and they were dead.

But in a world where survival was a struggle, who had the time to mourn the dead?

The more ice they could collect, the longer they could survive. When your own survival was in question, you didn't have the time to worry about whether others lived or died.

Sometimes, death seemed like a merciful release.

"Officer! He has a gun!" someone in the crowd behind them suddenly shouted. "There's a man with a gun here!"

Jasper was about to leave when the police and the security patrol rushed over. "Stop right there," they commanded.

They quickly surrounded Jasper, Stella, and Rosie. "Carrying a gun is illegal," one of the officers warned.

Jasper waved the gun in his hand. "Even a toy gun?"

That was right. The gun Stella had given him was a high-quality toy gun.

The police officer advanced a few steps to verify that it was indeed a toy gun. He breathed a sigh of relief but still looked concerned. "This thing is dangerous. We need to confiscate it."

"Is it really dangerous?" Stella countered. "It's made of plastic, but it's helped us fend off nine robberies. We've barely made it out alive each time. And just now, if we didn't have it, I doubt we would have made it out of there at all. Those people were unarmed, but they were desperate and violent. They were trying to steal the medicine, but you guys didn't make it in time to help. Without this gun, we wouldn't have made it this far. So, no, we can't give it to you."

The police officer hesitated for a moment before saying, "Just don't use it to hurt innocent people."

"Don't worry. We still have our humanity," Stella assured him.

The police and security patrol then moved on to break up the fights nearby.

"Mr. Jasper," a man named Christian, the deputy captain of the Eastwood Eden team, ran over to them. "Are you guys okay?"

Stella looked down at Rosie and noticed that she had passed out. Her face immediately turned pale. "Rosie's hurt. We need to replace a doctor immediately. You gather the team and head back." "Okay, you guys go replace a doctor. Be careful on the road."

Jasper took Rosie from Stella and quickly left.

Stella hurriedly ran after him. "Don't panic. Hold Rosie steady. Don't jostle her."

Jasper's eyes were red. "Stella, what do we do now?"

This was the first time Stella had seen Jasper like this. Normally, he was stoic in the face of danger, but now, he seemed helpless and panicked. Her heart ached for him.

She knew that he had chosen a different path in his second life just so that Rosie could survive. Without Rosie, he would have continued down his old path without hesitation. Rosie was his emotional support. If anything happened to her, he might never recover from the pain.

"Don't panic. Let's replace a secluded place and go into Arcadia," Stella suggested.

They quickly left the community center and walked down two streets until they were sure no one was around. Then they walked into an abandoned store and used it as a cover to get into Arcadia.

Arcadia was a warm and peaceful place. Jasper gently laid Rosie on a couch.

Stella found a stethoscope and quickly began examining Rosie. Her pulse, heartbeat, breathing, and pupils were all normal, but no one knew how severe the injury to her head was.

All they could do was wait and hope for the best.

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