In the underground air-raid shelter, aged light bulbs cast a dim yellow glow on the walls and the floor, as if they'd been smeared with corpse wax.
A decaying smell assaulted their faces.
Some wanted to cover their noses, but seeing the examiners behaving as if nothing were amiss, they quickly lowered their hands.
The ground sloped downwards, with an elevator present, but Pan Yunxiang didn't let anyone ride it, so a variety of shoes stepped onto the 200 steps, producing a dense and disordered sound of footsteps.
After the stairs, there was a long corridor, at first glance resembling the digestive tract of some beast, or as if it led to the depths of Hell.
Gurgle!
Lin Baici's stomach growled with hunger.
The kind that couldn't be satisfied without a big bowl of noodles.
Pan Yunxiang remained silent, and so did everyone else, not daring to speak. They followed him in silence for five minutes until they arrived at an open space.
