The morning sunlight gently fell through the steaming mist of the primitive forest, casting a dreamy halo on the red rooftop.
The distant mining machines had stopped; sounds of insects chirping and birds singing appeared exceptionally clear, and the fresh forest air flowed everywhere with the gentle breeze as time seemed to slow down.
But to some people, the rare, quiet, and beautiful moment was far from being appreciated.
A group of miners led by Wolff all stayed in a small house not far from the red-roofed building.
The atmosphere in the room was quiet with a hint of repression.
Most of the miners were sleeping with their eyes closed, only two watched by the window.
They occasionally looked through the gap in the window at the red-roofed house afar, or repeatedly checked their personal terminal screens, as if monitoring and waiting for something.
Wolff sat by the only table in the small house, slowly wiping the energy gun in his hand.
