The North District is shrouded in mist all year round.
Only on rare sunny days can the mist be faintly dispelled, bringing specks of light to the entire district.
The damp air fills the nostrils.
The roaring sound of machinery echoes in the ears year-round.
The pedestrians passing by have gloomy expressions, tightly wrapping their coats around themselves.
Every ten minutes, an iron-built steam train passes through the streets. After a brief stop, it hastily proceeds to the next station.
Outside the North District.
Meng Lei glanced at the heavy mist-laden sky, "Is the North District of Linjiang City equivalent to the Seventh District of Kyoto? If a secretive organization is hiding in such a place, it would indeed be troublesome.
Captain Allen, where did you investigate the location?"
Allen, clad in a black trench coat, lit a cigarette, letting the ash fall gently from his nicotine-stained fingers:
