Chapter 158 Let's Talk
Steven searched the other rooms on the second floor again, which was mainly for entertainment.
Besides the pet room, there was a sex room filled with various props and a waterbed room with a unique ambiance.
However, the waterbed room was now mostly abandoned.
The overall temperature in the shelter was around 50 degrees Fahrenheit, likely because its energy consumption was too high, and they had started conserving.
Steven glanced around the waterbed room and found five or six bodies on the floor.
"No wonder it felt a bit drafty when I came in! The problem is here."
Steven was no longer surprised by the sight of dead bodies.
All six bodies were women, and they were very beautiful.
If Steven wasn't mistaken, they were socialites, just like the three girls in the pet room earlier.
"This shelter isn't as harmonious as it seems." Steven said flatly.
Nine women and two men surviving in a post-apocalyptic shelter could easily devolve into a primitive society.
Steven didn't know the cause of their deaths, but he could guess some of it.
But these things had nothing to do with him.
However, the three girls in the pet room were definitely involved.
'I need to deal with them! These women who would sell their bodies for money are nothing but trouble!' he thought.
A determined killing intent flashed in Steven's eyes.
Although it was a pity, Steven would follow his rationality and do what needed to be done.
After exploring the two floors above ground, Steven found the entrance to the basement, as Frank had mentioned, and went down.
Compared to the surface, the two underground levels were mainly prepared for the doomsday shelter.
The B1 level looked like a spaceship.
There were eight independent rooms, all with heavy alloy metal doors.
There were no keyholes, and Steven guessed they were opened with magnetic cards or retinal scans.
He struggled for what felt like ages but couldn't get it open.
"Looks like I'll have to ask Brock, the owner, to understand how to use the entire shelter." Steven muttered to himself.
He didn't dwell on it and went to check other places.
Besides the living quarters, B1 had other rooms, and since there were so many, they were labeled with names to help the owner remember, including warehouse, power center, network server, control room, water room, etc.
Most of the doors were tightly closed, except for the control room.
Steven went to the control room, where the door was open, indicating that Brock had been monitoring everything from there.
"The core of the entire shelter should be here!" Steven said to himself.
Steven walked into the control room, where the walls were covered with monitors, and even the floor was a giant screen.
The control panel was filled with various embedded keyboards and buttons, making Steven dizzy.
After some study, Steven found some basic functions.
The buttons were labeled with their uses, such as power control for certain areas and door-opening methods.
But more applications left Steven clueless.
"I wish I were a computer engineer!" Steven shrugged helplessly and gave up.
Without a user manual, he had no idea how long it would take to figure it out.
Through the surveillance, Steven confirmed that Brock and the others were fine, and then he went to check the second basement level.
The second basement level was a large sports arena.
When Steven turned on the lights, he saw a vast open space.
He admitted he was a bit shocked when he saw it.
The height of this level exceeded 33 feet, and looking up, he could see the high dome supported by thick alloy beams.
There were basketball courts, tennis courts, and even a large space developed into a small golf course.
"Extravagant!" Steven could only use the word to describe what he saw.
"This place is about 65 feet underground, and the temperature is noticeably higher than outside. Indeed, the cold can't penetrate here," he murmured.
This place was nice, spacious, and quiet.
Steven decided to set up a shooting range here to train his supernatural ability.
As the apocalypse continued, he increasingly felt the importance of his supernatural ability.
Having developed it once, he was even more eager to become stronger!
Only power was the fundamental guarantee for survival in the apocalypse!
Steven spent more than half an hour exploring the entire shelter.
Next, he would have to get Brock to spill the beans to get the control methods for the entire shelter.
Steven returned to the ground floor with his gun.
Brock and Benjamin were still unconscious, and Frank, who had inhaled more sleeping gas than the other two, was also lying on the ground like a dead fish.
Steven had no patience to wait for them to wake up.
He filled a bucket of water from the kitchen sink and rudely poured it over Brock's head.
Although the indoor temperature was around 50 degrees Fahrenheit, cold water on the head was still very uncomfortable.
Brock shivered and finally managed to slowly open his heavy eyelids.
"You're awake?" Steven's deep voice reached his ears.
Brock opened his eyes and saw the fully armed Steven sitting in front of him.
Brock tried to move but found his body tightly bound, unable to budge.
"How did you do it?" Brock couldn't understand how Steven had managed to turn the tables in that situation.
He had clearly seen Steven tied up tightly!
Steven explained calmly, "To survive in the apocalypse, I need some means of self-preservation."
He didn't want to explain too much and said directly, "Now, it seems you don't have time to discuss this topic. Why don't we talk about something else?"
He continued, "For example, how you can cooperate with me in the future to save your life?"
Brock gradually regained his senses and realized that his situation was quite dire.
He felt immense grief and anger.
He couldn't accept that his supposedly impregnable shelter had been breached so quickly!
It took him a billion dollars! A billion dollars!
It felt like all that money was wasted!
"What do you want?" Brock asked in a deep voice.
Steven smiled slightly. "You don't need to be too nervous. You didn't try to kill me when I came, so I won't harm you either."
"Although I'm not a good person, I have a basic sense of decency."
"Besides, killing you, the scion of the Johnson family and the future heir of the Johnson Group, wouldn't do me any good."
Brock's identity was indeed not simple—at least not before the apocalypse.
His parents were both prominent figures, and he had strong backing.
Hearing Steven say he wouldn't harm him, Brock relaxed a bit.
Taking a deep breath, Brock said, "What do you want? We can talk it over. Just don't harm my life!"
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