December 5th, night.
Banzhen City, Sakura Prayer Official Administration Building.
On floors one through three, the office areas were brightly lit, housing several hundred staff members who bustled about, carrying documents.
They all wore identical dark blue business uniforms. Most of their faces were impassive; everyone focused solely on their own tasks, rarely even glancing at the person in the next cubicle.
Relationships in the age of the Apocalypse Rules were already cold, and this was especially true for the Yingqi People, who had experienced the tragedy of their homeland sinking into the sea. Although many had evacuated with the government, they were little more than the walking dead, surviving on instinct alone.
This all-encompassing indifference was why no one noticed a complete stranger walk out of the restroom.
