Tap—
Tap—
The sound of footsteps echoed on the hard stone-paved street. The houses on both sides were tightly shut, with no light and no sound of people, everything submerged in a kind of muted deathly silence, like a secluded mountain valley cut off from the world.
The thirteenth floor presented such a scene.
Fan Wubing stood at one end of the street, facing the wide and straight street. Without averting his gaze, he looked far into the distance at the gray-white city gate on the other end. Under the moonlight, the gate exuded a sense of cold desolation.
It seemed as if no one had set foot here for a long time.
In the air, a certain scent lingered, like that of scorching sunshine baking the earth.
Suddenly, a crisp sound came from another part of the street, as if something hard had burst open with a crack. Such sounds became more frequent and noisier, accompanied by the thud of something heavy falling to the ground.
