Connected by shackles, the three individuals settled together at a crossroads within the crevice.
The dim sunset was frozen on the brink of descent, its dull afterglow draping the street in a yellow shroud.
The air composition was entirely similar to the human surface.
Yet, there was an additional component that did not belong to the gas, something invisible and intangible, able to flow across the skin's surface.
This feeling was akin to suddenly throwing an ordinary person from a bustling, brightly lit area into the deepest part of a hospital morgue.
Moreover, there were multiple arms stretching out from the cold storage, touching the surface of this person's body.
No matter how much one struggles, one cannot escape this sensation of touch, as long as one remains in the corner.
Many labeled as geniuses who once made waves within the city-level Investigation Bureau, upon visiting the corner for the first time, prepared to showcase their skills.
