Natalie turned her head toward Tiffany, who was still sniffling. "What's wrong with him?" Tiffany, freshly beaten and timid as a rabbit, shrank back and answered honestly, "He got his butt smacked by a pervert! The pervert didn't hit me, he hit him!" Natalie froze, then realization dawned. She looked at Braxton with a meaningful smirk. "I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to lately?" Braxton's face darkened, almost black with rage. His cousin would blurt out anything. "Tiffany's brain isn't right. Don't listen to her nonsense." Natalie curled her lips, clasped her hands behind her back, and strolled casually around his apartment. "Not bad. You've stocked up on quite a bit, huh?" Braxton's eyes sharpened. "What do you want now? You can hit me, fine—but don't you dare touch my food or supplies again! Do it, and I swear I’ll fight you to death."Natalie burst out laughing. "No, no, no. I'm a good person. I'd never take the hard-earned things you got from selling your ... behind." Selling his behind? Yeah—she's obviously talking about his ass. The thought made her snort with laughter. Braxton's face twisted in humiliation and fury. Natalie ignored him, leaving in high spirits. She wasn't throwing anything out today. She'd let him live, watch him struggle to survive, and see just how much worse his life could get. In her past life, with the help of her storage space, Tiffany and Braxton had at least managed to keep a shred of dignity, even if they weren't well-fed. But now, without her? Only the first apocalypse—and they'd already fallen to this.The sister sold her body and lost her mind. The brother ... was reduced to this kind of filthy business. Life really wasn't easy. ... Olivia's crocodile battle spread fast through the neighborhood. People got new ideas, trying to follow her example and hunt crocodiles for meat. The outside grew lively again. One day, while Olivia was practicing needle therapy, someone knocked gently on her door. Peeking through the peephole, she saw a man. Clean-cut, fair-skinned, and wearing gold-rimmed glasses. The knock was soft, not the kind of pounding that meant trouble. So, she asked, "What do you need?" "Hello. I'm Harold Kingston, from the top floor. Natalie told me to come see you."Natalie recommended him? Top floor—Harold Kingston? The same Harold who, like Natalie, had stockpiles so rich the neighbors once ganged up to try robbing him? Then, he probably wasn't after her meager supplies. Still, Olivia was cautious. She didn't open the door. "Mr. Kingston, what's the matter?" "Natalie said you know needle therapy. Could you take a look at my mother's leg injury?" At the word "needle therapy," Olivia relaxed. So, it was true—only Natalie knew she practiced it. She opened the door at once. "What's her condition?" "She was dancing this morning, overdid it, and twisted her knee. Now she can't walk. Do you think you can treat it?"Olivia nodded. "Joint injuries like that are simple. If treated promptly with needles, she'll be better in a few days." She couldn't help thinking, This family must be doing well. Others are starving, barely able to walk—yet this lady has energy to spare for dancing. Harold sighed with relief. He'd been worried about finding a doctor, afraid of delays. Who knew one lived just downstairs? Natalie never let him down—anyone she recommended had to be good. "Then, please come upstairs with me. Don't worry about the fee. If Natalie recommends you, I'll pay generously." Olivia nodded, her heart warm. Natalie really had been good to her. Who would've thought that knocking on a door that day, just to borrow some medicine, would end up bringing a real lifesaver into my world? She grabbed her needles and followed Harold upstairs.His home was stacked with supplies, so of course, he wouldn't invite her in. Instead, he brought his mother out to the open space between Unit 1501 and 1502. Ghania sat in a chair, face tight with nerves. "Sweetie, tell me the truth—will it hurt?" It was amusing that Ghania was behaving like a listless kid. Olivia smiled gently. "Don't worry. It won't hurt. Close your eyes if you want." She placed needles in the knee points. Hearing Harold mention her manic disorder as well, Olivia added a few calming needles. After 40 minutes, she removed them. Ghania stood, surprised. She wasn't walking freely yet, but the pain had eased. "Young lady, you've got skill!" she said in delight. "Keep it up for a week and you'll see more improvement. I can come every day." When it was over, Harold handed her a sack of potatoes, a bag of fresh greens, and several bottles of water as her fee. Olivia stared at the vegetables, shocked. Three months into the apocalypse, and they still had fresh greens? That alone was worth a fortune.