Despite living by the sea, the daily scent was not of fresh sea breeze but of a persistent methanol odor in the air.
The air quality was extremely poor.
Apart from the elderly, there were hardly any young people living in the village. Most of those who did reside there were laboring husbands and wives working at the nearby chemical plant.
The demographic was complex, and the roads in the village were also in terrible shape, bumpy and potholed, damaged by heavy vehicles.
Such an environment, if posted online, would be believable as a rural area on the outskirts of Rakshasa City or even a third- or fourth-tier countryside.
Lin Mo drove his car, searching for the self-constructed house number 139 in the village, while contemplating a question.
Why did Chen Kainan visit such a place every day?
What exactly was the thing mentioned in the intelligence reports that he held dear?
