This type of dwelling is actually quite common, typically a business run by a row of residents. Some of them might not live permanently at the station, or have fewer family members. So, they come together and decide to keep a few of the houses for their own use—moving in together—while converting the rest into a hotel. Collecting rent—a favorite way for Chinese people to make money, and it's been around since ancient times.
The hotel owner she'd booked was quite forthcoming. After hearing she'd be staying for at least a week, he chose a room for her that had been converted from a balcony to a living room. This room had a separate toilet and bathroom, a clothes drying rack on the balcony, and good ventilation, so Jiang Ling readily paid a week's fee in advance.
The rental price for a room like this is 50 points for the first day, and 10 points per day thereafter. It might seem expensive for a short stay, but you get what you pay for. This is much better than the makeshift cabin I stayed in two days ago. At least it has full access to water, electricity, and the internet.
After receiving the door key, Jiang Ling rushed into the bathroom and took a shower. She had been cooped up in a protective suit for the past two days, and she felt that the clothes she was wearing were almost sticking to her skin. She took a long time to shower, and the warm water flowing through her ravines made her feel a little excited, so she relaxed at the same time. . . .
Don't overthink it, just massage. It's said that relaxing your muscles will make your skin more hydrated.
When she finally finished washing, she examined her body in the mirror, her face rosy and pretty. Her skin, long untouched by UV rays, was slightly pale, no longer the light tan it had been at the beginning. Perhaps another transformation would restore her original complexion, but she ultimately chose not to. Everyone here had similar skin tones, and being too different would easily draw criticism.
However, this also shows that her body is also subject to change and is not the kind of eternal thing that remains unchanged. She thinks she may be lacking some vitamins, so she plans to go to the hospital later.
Her teeth were a little yellow, but fortunately the residence provided disposable cleaning products, so she was able to brush her teeth and wash. After a while of fiddling, her teeth returned to their former whiteness.
She noticed her nails were getting a bit long, but regular scissors were difficult to trim. She tested them against a wall, and her nails easily left claw marks on the wall. It seemed she really needed to find everyday tools she could use; these tools designed for ordinary people were definitely not suitable for monsters.
Although she looked somewhat malnourished, her overall condition was much better than that of an average person. A mist clouded over her green eyes, and the beauty in the mirror gradually blurred. She wiped the mirror with a towel, and she was still as radiant as ever.
"Wow, this is really pretty! I just don't know how long it will last."
Jiang Ling changed her underwear, threw the sweat-stained clothes into the pool to soak, put on her coat and went out.
She was mainly planning to try some of the food on the site before retiring. Well, actually, she was drawn to it by the flyers on the site's website. The beautifully rendered food pictures really made her mouth water, and since she had a little money on hand, she could still afford it for just a little entertainment.
She headed in another direction, towards the ground-level distribution center. It was only then that she understood the bustling nature of this station. The passageways along the way were decorated, and the walls were covered in numerous paintings of unknown significance. Some of them, of course, seemed familiar to her, perhaps connected to the sect. However, the paintings here were even more exaggerated and distorted. The "Son of God" from the illusion had been painted directly onto the wall as a sun, while the believers below had been transformed into human-like beasts.
Jiang Ling had no direct understanding of people's superstitions. Throughout her life, she had never encountered a serious religious figure. So, as an orthodox materialist, she simply considered those supernatural powers to be phenomena unknown to humanity. She didn't connect them with anything esoteric, but simply thought these believers were a bit extreme—they had already started vandalizing public property.
This wasn't a good sign. Jiang Ling briefly put herself in those people's shoes and realized they would soon make another move. What was this? A separatist uprising? She couldn't imagine how brutal an uprising in an isolated system could be, but she could imagine that these people were destined to fail.
"It's none of my business, but it's best not to mess with me!" she said in her final words.
These terrible murals extend all the way to the elevator leading to the military zone. It seems that this kind of criticism is still no match for the criticism of weapons. These extremists are not strong enough to compete with the people's armed forces. Come to think of it, if they could compete, they wouldn't simply scribble on the walls.
Everyone in the hallway expressed disgust at the murals, the lingering scent of oil paint polluting the air. While waiting for the elevator, Jiang Ling finally spotted the perpetrator—a masked punk artist. He appeared to be fleeing, followed leisurely by several men in military uniforms. Perhaps there were wolves in front and tigers behind, as this guy had already slipped into the crowd.
The crowd was still watching, but Jiang Ling keenly noticed the dagger hidden in the punk painter's arms.
The guy quickly realized something was amiss. After glancing around and realizing he had nowhere to escape, he became malicious. His eyes darted around, and at one point, they met Jiang Ling's gaze. He pondered for a moment, then slowly approached the elevator.
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