With the advent of winter, the night temperature plummeted.
In the underground workspace, there was a heater and of the three light tubes, only one worked, casting half space of the room into an even colder darkness.
Four people are squeezed into the small workspace, with only the occasional sound of Shao Hanchen sniffling to break the silence.
After a long moment of silence, K stood up, "I'm going patrolling."
Su Junxin opened her eyes and glanced at his retreating figure, paused for a second, and quietly followed him.
Outside, the wind was blowing, cold and damp with a rank smell. She instinctively furrowed her brows.
This odor, which she had spent a decade in her past life unable to get used to.
Following the faint scent of tobacco, she found K—he was leaning against a pile of rubble, holding a cigarette between his fingers. The tip of it glowed a warm orange, fluctuating between brightness and darkness.
