Stepping into the outer corridor of the council hall, Malin surveyed its structure, a large hollow structure, with a ceiling lit by a continuous purple light creating a sufficient safe zone, and the support columns connecting the ceiling and floor appeared sturdy enough.
At the entrance, an old man bowed to Malin:" You must be Prince Malin, my granddaughter Karen is grateful for your care, I can't thank you enough."
"It's nothing." Malin didn't care about this old man's gratitude, speaking of care, he basically hadn't taken care of Karen at all, so he didn't have a good impression of this kind of person trying to claim credit intentionally.
"Next, let me take you inside, you come from Westland, you must be curious about how we who live in the subway have survived until now."
"Yes, there are many things I want to know the answers to." Malin nodded at this—this was indeed correct, he was eager to know the answers to everything.
