Anthony scratched his nose and said awkwardly, "Indeed, I did mention that some people have been trapped in there since their grandfather's generation. If the grandfather was locked up there, he must have been born inside too. It's not like his grandfather could get locked up at the age of eight, and then he could be born outside, right? This isn't some strange opera."
Could it really be like this? The "prison" in the Prison of Death seemed to be different from what I had imagined.
Just as I was about to ask something else, Ange suddenly pointed to the sea surface: "Bird feces."
On the sea surface, there was an island with rugged rocks, covered with a layer of gray-white stones that reflected a rather intense light under the sunshine.
Ange had seen too many, and he recognized at a glance that it was indeed bird feces. Seabirds excrete on the island, and the sun dries the droppings. Over time, a thick layer of phosphate accumulates, making it a very good natural fertilizer.
