The cage is still where the fat man knocked it out of Sasha's hand.

Its door was ajar, and the rats had run away......

Sasha had no choice but to put on the dead bandit's gas mask.

The mask still seemed to have a little of the owner's musty smell in it, but Sasha should have been thankful that the fat man had taken off the mask before Sue slit his throat.

Near the middle of the subway bridge, the radiation level skyrocketed again, and if she didn't have this mask, the devil knows how many steps she would have taken.

Sasha also put on a huge hazmat suit, and moved inside, as if a cockroach larvae were breaking out of their cocoons.

The gas mask, which had been worn on the fat man's wide, flabby face, was now able to fit snugly against Sasha's face.

Sasha blew hard inside, trying to get rid of the remaining air from the hose and purifier, which belonged to the dead man.

But she looked around through the hermetically sealed round glass, and couldn't help but think that now she was not only wearing someone else's protective suit, but also seemed to have penetrated into someone else's body.

Only an hour ago, there was a ruthless devil in this dress, and now, in order to cross the subway bridge, it was as if she had to become a devil and see the world through his eyes.

She couldn't remember exactly what she and her father had lived like before they were exiled.

Perhaps she subconsciously embellished the bits and pieces from the distant past, in order to find a vent for herself—in addition to the plastic bag of tea.

You know, all the people who live in this subway are cold and merciless, and there is no mercy, is there no station that can be her habitat?

It's a pity that she can't wear this rubber mask forever and pretend that she is another person, someone who has no face and no emotion.

According to her wishes, she would never take off the mask again, if it could make her a different person—not only to lose herself on the outside, but also to erase her memories from the depths of her heart.

Let her forget everything, forget all the misfortunes that have happened to her.

Let her believe from the bottom of her heart that she still has a chance to start over.

Sasha didn't know what the two people had come for, but it was obvious that the bald man who had used a pistol to point at him was familiar with Su Mengfan.

It was hard for her to tell why they were taking her on the road for their own amusement, out of pity, or for proving to each other.

She just wants to guard her father alone, and she doesn't want him to be hurt again.

If it weren't for the presence of Su Mengfan in the team, Sasha would have said goodbye to them a long time ago.

Along the way, the only one of the two was the strange old man who had been staring at him before, and he would talk to him when he had nothing to do on the road.

She could feel sympathy in the old man's occasional conversation with her, but he looked at his companion in whatever he did, and spoke with caution, as if fearing that his humanity would be revealed.

The other, after deciding to take them to the nearest station inhabited by humans, never looked at her again. @

More often than not, he chatted with Alcohen about topics he didn't understand.

However, from their conversations, the names All-Russian Exhibition Hall and Artyom appeared most frequently.

Listening to Alcohen's tone, it was obvious that he was full of worry about that Artyom.

However, Hunter was very appreciative of that Artyom, and he didn't know what he had done to make the bald head so happy.

Even when I met my friend Alcohen, I was never so happy.

Another piece of news is that their goal this time is to go to Tula station.

Sasha rubbed for a moment, letting the man go ahead of her, and she wanted to study the man unscrupulously, even if it was from the back first.

He seemed to have felt her gaze—he immediately became alert, and shook his head sharply.

But he did not turn around, as if to give in to the girl's curiosity, and as if to deliberately show that he did not pay any attention to the girl.

His strong figure and beastly demeanor made the fat man think of him.

Bear, all of this shows that this man is a soldier.

It's not just because he's tall, it's because of his shoulders.

She clearly felt that even if this person was thin and short, he could still generate a steady stream of strength in his body.

Such a person can effortlessly bring anyone to his knees, and anyone who disobeys his will, he will eliminate without hesitation. @*~~

Long before Sasha finally restrained her fear in front of this person, she began to struggle to understand the relationship between him and herself.

Fortunately, the appearance of Alcohen filled himself with strength again, and his cowardice of inferiority was covered again.

During the time she was taking care of Alcohen, Sasha rarely saw men her age and was disgusted by the ugly old men at the station.

The feeling for Su Mengfan changed from dislike at the beginning to a good impression later.

When he finally rescued himself from the hands of the evil demon king Fat Man.

At that moment, there was already a woman who had just awakened in her body and kept telling her: she had also succumbed to him.

-------------------------

The railcar moved forward at breakneck speed, and Homer did not feel any resistance from the levers, as the hunter carried the entire weight almost alone.

The old man stood on the other side of him, raising his hand in the same way, but it took him almost no effort.

The subway bridge is not very high, there are many piers, crossing the muddy and thick river, the flesh and blood of the cement are detached from the steel and iron bones, and its piers appear extremely weak, one of the two ridges has collapsed.

Such a building is functional, typical, and does not stand the test of time, and like all the new buildings around it, and like all the cookie-cut buildings around Moscow, it is completely devoid of any form of beauty.

But as he passed the bridge on the railcar, Homer was still ecstatic to admire the scenery on both sides, and he remembered the bridges in St. Petersburg that could be opened and closed, and the hollowed-out and blackened Crimean bridge.

Thinking of one's former homeland is different from the hard life now.

In more than 20 years of subway life, Homer has been to the ground three times.

Every time, I try my best to take a closer look and see more. The memory was awakened, the chip of visual memory was activated, and he wanted to read and remember more, so as to store enough experience for the next few years.

It would be nice if one day he was lucky enough to be on the surface again, to Kolomna, the river wharf and the warm camp.

These places are incredibly beautiful, but Homer, like many other Muscovites, did not regard them as treasures, but had an unfair dislike for them.