Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 11: Stop a Bloody Tragedy

The diesel generator and chainsaw Mariella had stored in her storage space required large amounts of diesel fuel to run.

She drove to a gas station and found out that private buyers could only purchase up to one ton of diesel fuel per transaction.

After negotiating, Mariella reached an agreement with the station manager. She would pay an extra 15,000 per ton.

The gas station provided specialized explosion-resistant metal fuel drums with dedicated outlets and fuel nozzles, making them very convenient to use.

Since she was willing to pay an extra 15,000 per ton so generously, the gas station workers felt they were getting a great deal and went all out with their service. Not only did they supply the drums and a full set of fueling equipment, but they even delivered everything to her door.

After the workers left, Mariella felt a bit troubled.

Her storage space had less than 700 cubic feet remaining. The two-bedroom apartment was already packed to the brim. Adding this one-ton fuel drum meant there would be absolutely no room left.

The ten small motorboats delivered from the outdoor water sports store would have to stay in the garage for now.

Mariella reorganized the storage space, barely clearing enough room to squeeze the large fuel drum inside.

After storing it, she drove back to the club.

Chandler was leading five bodyguards and a black shepherd in intense drills on the open field. Mariella didn't interrupt them.

"Woof!" Lucky spotted her first, wagging his tail wildly.

Mariella waved at him, signaling him to stay quiet, then slipped away.

She found a large storage room on the first floor and took the fuel drum out of her storage space, setting it on the floor.

Then she took out the inflatable boats, kayaks, air pumps, solar generators, diesel generators, snowmobiles, boxes of high-proof distilled liquor, boxes of canned dog food, and other bulky supplies that took up a lot of space.

Immediately, large sections of the storage space and living area were cleared, making room for plenty more supplies.

Mariella left the storage room and retrieved a lock from her storage space.

After locking the door, she turned around when a tall figure suddenly appeared in front of her. She didn't react in time and nearly ran straight into him.

"Ah!" she gasped, almost instinctively reaching for the triangular bayonet she carried.

"It's me," the man said in a deep, pleasant voice.

Mariella focused her gaze and realized it was Chandler.

After four years of constant danger in the apocalypse, she had stayed in a permanent state of alertness. She had grown overly sensitive to threats.

Lucky dashed over, rubbing against her legs and wagging his tail energetically.

It looked like Lucky had tracked her scent and led Chandler here.

Mariella shot the foolish dog an annoyed glare before turning to Chandler irritably. "Why do you move like a ghost? I didn't hear a thing!"

He glanced at the locked door and asked, "Need help moving supplies?"

She originally wanted to refuse, but after a moment's thought, she changed her mind.

"I want to stockpile some diesel, gasoline, and propane tanks. Pick two reliable guys and split up. Buy five tons of diesel, one ton of gasoline, and 200 propane tanks. Store them separately. Don't let outsiders find out."

"Woof!" Lucky barked enthusiastically, volunteering to help.

Chandler was stunned. "... Five tons of diesel? One ton of gasoline? Two hundred propane tanks?"

Those were highly flammable and explosive materials, yet she wanted that much.

"Buy in small batches and store them together on the first floor. That way, we don't have to worry about the floor collapsing. As for the storage rooms, you guys can composite panels to divide them into simple units. The key is to make the doors sturdy."

Mariella took out her phone and transferred one million into Chandler's card through mobile banking.

She looked up, patted his shoulder, and smiled. "Do a good job. I won't treat you unfairly."

"Woof!" Lucky came over as well, seeking encouragement.

Mariella casually patted his head, her tone slightly perfunctory. "Listen to Captain Zimmer. I won't treat you unfairly either."

Chandler was speechless.

...

Mariella drove out, originally planning to head to a department store to stockpile more supplies.

She glanced at her phone. Today was July 8.

Her pupils shrank as something came to mind.

She turned the wheel sharply and sped toward Celestine Ridge.

She hoped it wasn't too late.

...

Brightcastle Kindergarten was a private preschool inside Celestine Ridge, serving only children from the residential neighborhood.

Although the tuition was expensive, the high level of security and convenient location inside the residential area made it the top choice for all homeowners.

Over time, not only did the homeowners' children attend Brightcastle Kindergarten, but also the children of butlers, family doctors, and bodyguards were enrolled.

No one could have imagined that on July 8, armed attackers would storm the kindergarten, taking children hostage and causing a bloody tragedy. Serena Lester had died on that very day.

She was Matthew Lester's daughter, and Matthew was Harvey's personal doctor.

In her previous life, Mariella owed Matthew a favor. She would repay it in this life.