Bai Youwei and Pan Xiaoxin stared at that door, both of them silent.
The air seemed to congeal.
It was suffocatingly hot and humid.
The confined space made the atmosphere even more oppressive, making it hard to breathe.
Bai Youwei sat quietly in her wheelchair, sweating profusely in the sweltering environment. Her palms were sticky, her back damp, and sweat trickled down her cheeks. She held her breath and listened to the sound of chewing and tearing flesh from beyond the wall...
The sound gradually grew louder, as if it would penetrate the fleshy wall at any moment.
The man hiding under the counter was looking increasingly pale. He anxiously eyed the direction the noise was coming from, breathing uncontrollably, his chest heaving, and his sweat pouring like rain.
