Under the guidance of the Manager, Yang Yu and Bai Jin passed through the thick iron door, beyond which lay a downward spiral staircase illuminated by dim Magic Lamps. As they descended, claw marks that could penetrate walls like steel claws streaked across their field of vision, far larger than ordinary cat or dog prints.
After about five or six minutes, they reached the first underground level, a circular space reminiscent of the Roman Arena. In the center, several outdated devices were laid out, around which men in white lab coats bustled, constantly fiddling with chemicals.
Upon closer inspection, each person bore marks of Charm, indicating they were not official employees but black workers used as a front, ready to arm themselves and fight in case of an emergency.
Apart from those tinkering with the old devices, there were about twenty other black workers scattered evenly around the edge of the circular space, standing by without a single complaint.
Just as He Meng had said.
