Chapter 87

The dim hallway reeked of decay and rot. Trash bags were piled haphazardly along the walls, buzzing with flies, while the overhead incandescent light flickered with a warm, yellow glow.

Unemployed squatters slumped along the corridor like rotting driftwood. Their faces were void of hope—just blank, hollow masks.

The electronic door of an apartment slid open with a mechanical hiss. David, dressed in his Arasaka Academy uniform, stepped out, clearly annoyed. Behind him, his mother Gloria called out: