Atop the ruins, a bus was speeding along.
It made its way relatively smoothly toward its destination, passing through dilapidated buildings whose age was beyond reckoning.
Outside, there was not a glimmer of light; darkness had devoured light, sound, and all hope.
Inside the bus, however, the sound of something appetizing being prepared could be heard.
Lu Ban had simply processed some rat meat, as the biologist Mary had said, discarding its propensity for erratic movements; it was a common creature that just happened to have well-developed muscles and a plump body.
With a knife, Lu Ban had removed the intact rat meat, washed away the blood, and sliced it into thin, tough strips.
A small amount of oil had been placed in the frying pan, and under the caress of the flame from the portable camping lamp, the temperature of the oil rose, releasing an enticing fragrance.
