The mountains of garbage are undulating, like the corpses of prehistoric beasts that were skinned and cramped and then discarded.
The air was filled with the sour smell of rust, engine oil and some kind of organic matter that had rotted for centuries, enough to make anyone accustomed to clean air vomit to dehydration within three seconds.
Lin Su had no reaction to this.
He just sat quietly on a relatively flat compressed car shell, letting the turbid wind blow his white coat that was incompatible with the surrounding environment. The fiber of the coat has been specially modified to effectively block most low-intensity radiation and harmful dust, but it was still inevitably stained, which made him frown slightly.
One hundred and fifty years.
