Harold seemed to read her mind and explained, "My mom likes to grow vegetables when she's idle at home. If you want, I'll pay your house calls in vegetables." He had a generator, seeds, and even developed new fertilizer—short-term, they weren't short on produce. Olivia didn't refuse. Her place had crocodile meat, dry rations, and other supplies she'd bartered from neighbors, but not a single fresh vegetable. Three months without greens, and even her digestion was messed up. Leaving Harold's, Olivia went straight to the 14th floor. Natalie had introduced her to a patient, and the food she received, she naturally wanted to share. This was especially true for vegetables—these were gold. Lately, any good thing she got, Olivia's first thought was to share it with Natalie.Natalie opened the door and found her smiling on the threshold. "Natalie, thank you for sending me that patient. I brought you some vegetables." Natalie glanced at what she held. They must be from Harold's home. These are good things. But she had plenty hidden away in her space. There was no need to take from Olivia. She waved it off. "Looks like Mrs. Dunn's treatment worked. I don't need these. Just fix my dizziness and we're even." Olivia kept trying to push them into her hands, but Natalie refused firmly. In the end, Olivia had to give up. The treatment success just now had her buzzing. "I've been getting better results lately. Tomorrow, I'll start treating you, too." Natalie smiled. "Alright." They were still talking when a roar ripped through the hall, "Fourteenth-floor bitch! I'm here for your life!" A frail, white-haired old woman came charging at them, brandishing a kitchen knife like a lunatic. Olivia had her back turned and didn't notice. Natalie's view was completely blocked by her, so she didn't see when the old hag slipped upstairs either. By the time they realized what was happening, the woman had already stormed right up to the doorway. She looked scrawny but somehow had the strength to shove Olivia hard to the ground—then swung the knife straight at Natalie. Natalie's pupils shrank, but her reflexes were razor sharp. She dropped into a crouch, dodging the strike in a split second. Hands braced on the floor, weight on her left leg, her right leg shot out in a sweeping kick that cracked into the old woman's ankle. One clean sweep, and the crazy hag toppled flat on the ground. The knife slipped from her grasp as she hit the floor, slicing deep into her own thigh. Before she could even scream, Natalie darted forward, yanked the knife free—and slashed down hard. Blood sprayed across her body. Natalie didn't hesitate. She ripped the blade back and struck again. One strike after another—over 20 blows in a frenzy, each one meant to kill. Thunk, thunk, thunk, it was like she was chopping ribs. Only when the woman stopped breathing did Natalie fling the ruined kitchen knife aside. It wasn't of much quality to begin with, and now the edge was curled from the savage beating. Exhaling sharply, she steadied herself on her knees and rose slowly. She knew better than to rush it—her adrenaline had just spiked, and if she stood too fast, she'd risk blacking out.Beside her, Olivia stared, dumbstruck at the carnage. From the moment she'd been shoved down to the instant the old woman's life was snuffed out, not even a minute had passed. In a whirlwind of chaos, Natalie had pulled off a brutal counter-kill. The scene was drenched in red—violent, gruesome. Natalie reached down and hauled Olivia to her feet. "Are you scared out of your wits?" Olivia nodded before quickly shaking her head. "N-No ... no." Natalie smirked. "Come on, you're the crocodile-slayer, and this little scene rattled you?" That nutcase wouldn't even make a mouthful for a crocodile. Olivia shot back quickly, "That's different! I had the nail gun you gave me. But you—this was bare-handed, just you on your own." The truth was, if that crazy woman had ambushed her instead, she'd be dead already. Natalie's reaction was lightning fast. Not only had she dodged a surprise attack, but she had also turned the woman's own weapon against her. Once she steadied herself, Olivia asked curiously, "Who even was she? Why did she try to kill you?" Natalie shook her head. "No idea. I don't know her." It didn't matter. If someone came at her, she cut them down. End of story. Olivia squinted at the corpse for a long moment, then said suddenly, "Wait ... isn't this Florence Lafferty?" She crouched, brushed aside the tangled white hair, and studied the sharp face. The high cheekbones, the flat, bitter mouth—skinny to the bone now, but still recognizable as Florence's notoriously mean old face. "That's her! Florence." Olivia explained, "Do you remember the Lafferty brothers who used to live on the seventh floor? This was their mother." Natalie's eyes widened in realization. She hadn't known the old woman, but she sure remembered the Lafferty brothers. They'd tried to break into her place and ended up as her first kills in this life. So this was their mom? No wonder she didn't recognize her—the old crone had never dared come near her before.