Mo Tingshen slammed the car door shut in the back and sat in the passenger seat.
It took an hour to drive to the Southern Suburbs, and after turning onto the side road, there was a long stretch that was so bumpy that it nearly shook Bo Yanching to pieces.
He stopped smoking, and the wound ached slightly, with some parts growing new flesh, itching terribly.
The factory was in an open wasteland, surrounded by a few abandoned villages. All the villagers had been relocated to the city after the houses were pulled down. Several real estate companies were competing for this area, and no development plans had been decided yet, so it remained idle and increasingly desolate.
If Mo Tingshen hadn't familiarized himself with the route in advance, he would never have imagined that the entrance to the basement was under a manhole cover beneath a wall of the factory.
Through a narrow passageway that allowed only one person to pass at a time, the further they went, the more the view opened up.
