He walked a little farther toward the exit, and signs of human presence gradually became more common along the way.
Admittedly, given enough time, everything could be erased.
But in an environment this cold and damp, a mere four hundred years wasn't enough for plastic products to completely degrade.
Lu Bai stepped over puddles of foul-smelling, murky water. The piles of miscellaneous junk along the roadside had become unrecognizable, and some plastic bags that had once held things were riddled with holes, their material reduced to ragged strips.
He slowed his breathing, intending to hurry through this area thick with the stench of decay.
A thin haze hung in the air along the way, like a veil. It wasn't especially dense, but it did somewhat obstruct his vision.
Fortunately, the writing on the signs hadn't completely worn away, so there was no need to worry about getting lost.
As an underground civil-defense structure built to protect personnel and supplies during wartime, it had theoretically been constructed to the highest standards. There was no doubt about its sturdiness.
Yet Lu Bai noticed that countless fine cracks had spread through the concrete-coated walls. It was hard not to wonder whether they might collapse before long.
"An earthquake? Or something else?"
Though he was puzzled, Lu Bai quickened his pace instead.
He wanted to know what the surface was like now.
Lu Bai sprinted all the way to the exit of the civil-defense structure, where a thick iron door, mottled with rust, blocked his path.
The door was well sealed, cutting off the inside from the outside so completely that not even a breath of wind could get through.
After years without maintenance, the mechanism controlling the door's lift had broken inside. Lu Bai tugged at the handle twice, nearly pulling it off,