Out of nowhere, two Hansa border guards removed Su Mengfan's weapon, told him that he would not be in danger for the next year, and promised to return the weapon to him at the end of his sentence.

After that, to the sound of whistles and laughter of the people, they were taken to the Moscow Metro Line 5.

The passage is in the hall. Under the floor of the central station, it is the same as another station of the same name, but this is the only place where the two stations are the same.

The passage to the Moscow metro line 5 gives a strange impression:

The ceiling on one side is low and devoid of any columns - the arches on the walls are of equal width, and the width of each arch is equal to the distance between each arch.

It seems that the previous {Abdulkader Station} is easier to build, because the soil there is softer, and all the construction workers have to do is squeeze the dirt and push it out to make a space.

But here are rocks that are too hard to shake.

But for some reason, it doesn't feel as oppressive and sad as it does at Teveskaya Station.

Probably because there weren't that many lights, and the walls were decorated with simple patterns and some antique columns with works like ancient Greek mythology.

All in all, it's not that bad for the labor force who is forced to come to work.

Obviously, this is the domain of Hansa.

First of all, it's exceptionally clean and comfortable, and it's huge.

Glass-clad lamps glow softly from the ceiling.

The hall is certainly not as empty as its twin stations, there is not even a newsstand, there are a large number of wonderfully designed workbenches piled together.

Behind the workbench sat men in blue overalls with pleasant smiles and a slight smell of engine oil in the air.

Working hours here may be longer than at Abdulkadr Station.

Something hung on the wall—a poster with a brown ring on a white background, saying that a man named D. Smith was looking for employees.

Between the two stern soldiers standing guard was a large flag with a glass table underneath.

Su Mengfan slowed down as he passed by, curious to know what sacred things would be placed under the glass.

There were two books on the red velvet, which were illuminated by a small lamp shining on the cover.

The first book is thick and well preserved, with a few gilded words written on the black cover: "Ya Ban Smith's "Guo Fu Treatise".

The second book is a copy of a pocket book, which is very old. The cover was framed with a piece of torn rag that had been pasted and pasted, and it was covered with dust.

The cover of the rag reads in bold "Dale Carneki, How to Stop Worrying and Start Life"

Su Mengfan had never heard the names of these two authors.

So he was interested in whether the governor of the station had used part of this velvet to decorate the cage of his beloved mouse.

There is a subway line that is not closed, and there are rail cars passing through from time to time, most of them hand-cranked, carrying small wooden boxes.

But there was also a motorized rail car that came speeding up in a cloud of smoke, stopped at the station for a minute, and then moved on.

Su Mengfan thus had the opportunity to see a strong soldier sitting on top of the rail car, wearing a black uniform and a black and white striped vest.

Each soldier wore night vision equipment on his head, a strange short automatic weapon on his chest, and was equipped with a thick protective suit.

The commander slapped the large dark green visored helmet on his knees and spoke a few words to the station's security personnel in regular gray camouflage, before the railcar restarted, disappearing into the tunnel a moment later.

On the second line is a complete train, which is even better than what Su Mengfan saw at the Kuznetsk bridge.

Maybe behind the window with the curtain is the living area, but from the window without the curtain, you can see the printer on the table, and from the back you can see that it is the regular model.

The door reads "CENTRAL OFFICE". Central Office) a few words.

This station gave Su Mengfan an indescribable impression.

It didn't blow him away like the first {Abdulkader station}.

There's no sense of mysterious, dimly splendor here, reminiscent of the superhuman-like abilities of those who built the subway before the now-degraded generation.

But the people who live here don't seem to belong to the bustling, decadent and ignorant world outside the Moscow Metro Line 5.

Life went smoothly and orderly.

People rest peacefully after work, and young people don't spend their time in the stupid imaginary world of tongue-chewing women, but go to business—the sooner you start your business, the bigger you can get.

Adults go to the tunnels to feed the rats as soon as their physical strength wanes, and they are not at all afraid of it.

It is now understandable why Lufthansa only allowed a small number of people to enter the station, and seemed so reluctant to enter the station.

There are not many ways to enter heaven, only the gates of hell are open to all.

"Oh yes! I'm finally going to move outside! Mark exclaimed, looking elated.

Su Mengfan couldn't understand that such a punishment as cleaning a public toilet for a year would make Mark so happy.

At the end of the platform, another border guard sat in a small glass compartment with the word "on duty" written on it.

Next to it is a small lever, painted with red and white stripes.

When someone approached and stopped respectfully, the soldier came out of the compartment with an arrogant expression, checked the documents and sometimes the wagon, made sure that there were no problems, and then raised the lever.

Su Mengfan noticed that all the border soldiers and customs officers were proud of their jobs.

It's clear that they're doing what they love to do. You don't have to do the hard work of those inhabitants, and you don't have to risk your life to find resources on the surface like stealth influences.

In other words, he thought, who wouldn't love this kind of work?

They were taken to a fence where there was a road leading to a tunnel.

Then turn to the side of the fence and come to a corridor leading to the staff quarters.

The deep pits dug out of them were covered with dark yellow tiles, and there were really toilet seats, which were extremely dirty.

There was something strange growing on the square-headed shovel, and the wheelbarrow was pressed out of a wide figure-eight rut, filled with dirt, and then pushed away and poured onto the nearest propeller shaft leading to the depths.

It's all surrounded by a strange stench that permeates the clothes on a person's body, and makes every hair from root to end emit this stench, and it penetrates deep into the skin.

You can't help but start thinking that this stench is a part of you and will always follow you.

Instead, his own smell was quietly squeezed out.