Just past seven in the morning.
The storm continues to rage over the city skyline, showing no signs of stopping.
The room remains unlit, shrouded in somber darkness.
Outside the window, raindrops relentlessly pound against the glass, creating a cacophony of crackling sounds.
Occasionally, early risers with umbrellas hurriedly pass through the waterlogged paths in the complex.
Further away, the sounds of vehicles passing on the highway are fragmented and indistinct, sliced by the curtain of rain.
Fang Cheng withdraws his gaze from the view outside.
He stuffs the last few meat buns into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as he chews rapidly.
His eating manner isn't graceful, one might even call it exaggerated.
Like a beast starved for days, devouring its meal as if to swallow the food along with the packaging.
In the corner of the room, a heap of emptied plastic bags and containers reveals an astonishing consumption rate.
