There were no hidden enemies or predators.
Like the surrounding areas, this place was so desolate that even Hell Creatures seemed unable to survive here.
Other than them, there were no other living things.
Beyond the door was a silent hall whose vaulted ceiling had collapsed. The duty roster hanging on the wall had long since yellowed, the desks had fallen apart, and an uncapped ballpoint pen lay forgotten on the ground, hidden in a crack between the stones.
"I really miss this place."
Anton stopped before the wall, gazing at a wooden frame whose original marks could no longer be made out. He tapped the middle of it, then turned to Huai Shi. "My name used to hang here."
Huai Shi paused slightly.
Then he followed Anton farther inside.
They passed through ruined corridors, empty laboratories, and cluttered rooms long buried beneath dust.
The walls and ceiling were scarred everywhere with fractures.
There were no mottled bloodstains or scenes of slaughter to be seen. Seventy years had been enough for everything to vanish into time.
Even the ruins had become gentle.
They were as silent as a grave.
At last, the old man stopped in the courtyard and looked at a surviving bench.
After a long while, he patted the backrest, bent down, and pulled an iron box from a gap beneath it. When he opened it, ash spilled out.
Anton immediately beamed.
"Ha, it's still here..."
He sat down on the bench in his old spot and looked at Huai Shi. "Got any cigarettes?"
"Didn't bring any."
Huai Shi patted his pocket and answered awkwardly, "After becoming a teacher, I felt it would set a bad example for the students, so I decided to quit."
"Quitting is good."
Anton smiled carelessly, pulled a wrinkled little packet from the