Owen drove out of the national highway toll station, got off the rural road built by the town, and drove for a while until the surrounding hardened cement road surface was completely invisible and all he could see was bumpy dirt road. Only then did he reach the edge of the city.
The sunlight at noon in July was scorching and dazzling. Large patches of golden sunlight fell unobstructed on the dilapidated walls of the surrounding houses. The mottled bricks and stones, narrow alleys, and rows of houses were piled with broken debris and bags of garbage on both sides. The smell of dampness and decay filled the hot air, becoming even more pungent and eye-irritating.
At this time, most of the tenants living nearby are working in the factory, so the surroundings are unusually quiet.
Owen walked around two rows of bungalows and stopped in front of a rusty iron gate at the end of the alley.
The door was ajar, and Owen pushed it open without hesitation.
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