Finally, with the sound of a chime, the staff in the underground workshop ended their long, eight-hour shift.
"Finally, a break. This godforsaken place is so cold and damp. Stay here too long and you can feel the chill seep into your bones."
"Alright, stop complaining. Getting transferred to this project means triple the Firewood Value you'd get outside. Be grateful."
"Xiaozhang, you and the director head up first. We'll be right there after we process this last bit of data."
The young researcher stretched, his face showing a hint of fatigue, but even more excitement.
He followed the old director out of the workshop, down an internal corridor, and into a relatively dry and comfortable living area.
There were a dozen or so individual resting pods, likely prepared for core researchers like them.
Han Feng's figure, like a shadow that could not be perceived, followed silently behind them.
