Passing through the dark passage, Chichu Chun followed the stairs down to the third basement level.
In the darkness, incandescent lights alternately flickered, and the platform was desolate and deep. An abandoned train was parked on the right side, and the aging advertisements on the left wall were blurry, everything here seemed to have frozen in time a century ago, forgotten by the world.
Chichu Chun slowly came to a stop, gazing at the mirror beside her. Her reflection gradually became clearer, a cold face tinged with a hint of wickedness.
Chichu Chun shook her head, noticing a flyer scattered on the ground about 'favorite food,' seemingly an advertisement for an izakaya.
Favorite food...
Fried tempura, cheese tart, yakitori, thick omelet, she welcomed anything delicious with open arms.
