The old employee led a chattering group of children down the corridor. Along the way, Jason realized that compared to an apartment building, this place really did feel more like a hotel.
The dark gray floor tiles were patterned with beige designs. Every few yards stood a huge potted plant, each room had a carpet outside its door, and there was a trash can every three rooms.
The ceiling was carved with numerous patterns as well. The lighting was soft, even a little dim, but that only made it feel more like home. At the very end of the corridor, the employee reached out and pressed the plaque on a door, and a name appeared: "Jason Todd."
Jason stepped forward and fearlessly gripped the doorknob. The handle flashed, and with a click, the lock opened.
The old employee explained, "The material used for these doors is extremely advanced. No firearm currently known in Gotham can break through one of them, and the windows are the same."
Jason pushed open the door, and the room that came into view nearly made him cry out.
It really did resemble a hotel, even the rooms. It was a tiny space, probably only large enough for a bed. Yet a wall cabinet was fixed to the wall near the corridor, a painting hung above the headboard, and there was a window opposite the bed.
The window was not particularly large, only about half the length of the bed, but it had a very small bay window that Jason could sit on perfectly.
Looking outside, he saw streets that had yet to be renovated and construction sites in the distance. The view stretched far and wide.
"The rooms at the corners have better views," the old employee said. "The rooms around the interior don't have