No Recanto dos Vivos

No Recanto dos Vivos

Author: Afei de roupa amarela

[Aviso de Imigração] Data: 10 de junho de 1989 Local: "██" Condições para candidatura: 1. Memorizar a Lei dos Cantos. 2. Ter compreensão clara dos conceitos relacionados a █ pessoas, anomalias e monstros, assim como possuir certo conhecimento sobre a literatura de ██. 3. Estar saudável física e mentalmente, sem doenças contagiosas ou histórico de doenças mentais. 4. Dominar pelo menos uma habilidade, incluindo mas não se limitando a infraestrutura, medicina ou esportes. 5. Famílias com planos reprodutivos definidos terão prioridade elevada. Tome a decisão mais importante de sua vida: torne-se um novo imigrante da União das Nações e grave seu nome no marco da história da humanidade. Agradecemos a sua colaboração.

No Recanto dos Vivos

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Chapter 1: Diary

[Old City Prison]

The architecture resembled that of a medieval fortress, corresponding to the prison hall and entrance. On either side, fifty-meter-high walls stood, equipped at intervals with manned watchtowers, coordinated with drones for joint inspections.

Above the walls, some kind of invisible electric grid or alternative film seemed to hover.

A black sedan, adorned with gray stripes and topped with a metallic cap decoration, slowly drove along the sole roadway and parked in the expansive prison parking lot.

Both the driver and the front passenger simultaneously stepped out, their black leather shoes differing significantly in size.

They were both clad in black trench coats, each bearing a badge with an eye motif on the chest, though differing slightly in material and hue.

The driver was a youthful man, appearing no older than thirty, with smooth skin. The moment he stepped out, his attention was completely captured by the prison.

The middle-aged man who stepped down from the passenger seat wore a face marked by deep eye bags, his expression slack as he stretched lazily, seemingly having slept throughout the journey.

Without looking at the prison, the middle-aged man fixed his gaze on the newcomer.

“Are they really that short-staffed?”

His hoarse question seemed like an arm reaching out from a crack in the stone, pulling the young colleague’s attention away from the prison.

The young man scratched his head awkwardly. “Mr. Anderson, you fell asleep as soon as you got in… I’m Zhang Chi, from the Behavi

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